As my sabbatical winds down and I prepare to return to my regular role, I find myself both excited and anxious. Excited about new projects and reconnecting with colleagues, but anxious about losing the sense of renewal I’ve cultivated over the past year. How can I capture the magic of sabbatical and carry it back into my demanding work?

I’ve experienced burnout at least twice in my career, and honestly, the first time I didn’t even recognize that it was happening. A few years in, with small kids and large classes, I found myself in my mentor Leslie Reid’s office completely breaking down. As she gently walked me through different aspects of work and life, describing the signs of burnout, I kept nodding along and then said to her, “okay, I really don’t want to get burned out.” Leslie paused and kindly said, “I think you might already be there.”

It felt like a light switched on. Suddenly, everything made sense – the constant exhaustion, telling my husband “I’m so tired” ALL.THE.TIME (which, in hindsight, must have been very annoying), and feeling as though I was merely going through the motions with the work I once loved.

What came next surprised me. Instead of just focusing on my well-being, Leslie and I realized this wasn’t just my problem – it was impacting so many people in our faculty. We applied for a campus mental health grant and launched “The Resilient Academic,” a year-long program that started with summer wellness workshops, evolved into a monthly book club reading Kristin Neff’s Self-Compassion, and culminated with Neff herself coming to campus for a keynote.

It was empowering to turn my own suffering into an opportunity to learn about burnout, resilience, and self-compassion alongside my colleagues.

But apparently, some lessons need to be learned more than once. The second time I felt burnout creeping in was about a year ago, just before my sabbatical. After five years of giving everything to a demanding role, I found myself feeling depleted and stuck. I wasn’t getting that energizing spark from new projects that usually motivates me, and as someone who thrives on learning and fresh challenges, that absence left me feeling drained. I wasn’t crying in offices this time, but I recognized the signs: that flat feeling where even meaningful work felt like merely going through the motions.

Now, a year into what has been a wonderful sabbatical, I feel rested, excited about returning to work, and ready to tackle new projects with a refreshed mind. However, there’s a niggling fear in the back of my head about not wanting to end up where I was before – burnt out and exhausted.

So here I am, writing about burnout prevention while feeling refreshed, trying to figure out how to bottle this sabbatical magic and take it back into my demanding role.

What I Think Created My Sabbatical Glow

I believe my restoration has resulted from some surprisingly small changes.

Permission to ‘slack off’ a bit has been huge – slower starts to work, sometimes not working at all on Fridays, working longer when I’m really into something, and calling it a day when I’m not.

Lots of time for deep work has given me uninterrupted periods for thinking and creating, including stretches where I just read and learned, looking super unproductive but actually absorbing so much.

The power of saying no – the freedom to say “I can’t do that right now because I’m on sabbatical” has been liberating. I’ve followed interesting rabbit holes just because I’m curious, without needing immediate application.

Physical and mental space – I’ve gotten outside more, taken up bird watching, slept incredibly well (goodbye, melatonin!), and had the flexibility to drop everything when my son was sick, or a friend needed help.

What surprised me the most? How much I love being available for others when endless meetings and deadlines don’t dictate my schedule, allowing me to be flexible. The ability to shift priorities as life unfolds has genuinely made me happy.

The Challenge of Keeping the Glow

Now I’m trying to figure out how to remember what I’ve learned about what matters most: health, well-being, family, friends, and flexibility. I’ve noticed that I’m much less inclined to approach new ideas with skepticism and more open to doing things differently than I was a year ago. I feel less stuck and more curious. I believe this will make me a better educator, mother, and leader. And I really want to hold onto that openness. My biggest fear is falling back into that “always on” mentality where every email feels urgent, and every opportunity seems like something I should say yes to.

I think the most portable idea for keeping these feelings is to avoid rushing out the door too early in the morning, taking the time to truly enjoy those first moments of the day. Perhaps protecting lunch breaks and stepping outside during that time. While these may seem small, they represent a fundamental shift from always being in a hurry to living intentionally.

I’m thinking about building in micro-sabbaticals: maybe a 15-minute morning coffee ritual without email, or one afternoon a week completely offline. Building in recovery time after intensive periods instead of just powering through. Matching my energy levels to tasks and not scheduling difficult conversations when I’m tired.

From reading the Nagoski sisters’ Burnout, I learned I never used to close the stress cycle – I was perpetually stuck in it. This sabbatical has taught me the importance of actually finishing the stress response through things like physical movement, creative expression, or even just deep breathing. The key insight? Stress isn’t the problem – it’s getting stuck in the stress without completing the cycle that leads to burnout. I need to be conscious of when I’m feeling stressed, and take action to turn it off so I can recover.

The Long Game

I don’t have all the answers, but I’m committed to trying to work more sustainably and not falling back into the sprint mentality that led me to those tearful meetings in the first place. At this mid-career juncture, staying engaged and excited feels more important than ever.

I recognize the privilege of having had this sabbatical year to reset and reflect. Not everyone has that luxury, which makes me even more committed to sharing what I’ve learned and advocating for sustainable practices in higher education more broadly.

Perhaps the key isn’t to prevent all future burnout but to become better at recognizing the early signs and having systems in place to respond. Additionally, being more honest about the reality that caring deeply for our work and students means we must also care equally well for ourselves is important.

What strategies have worked for you in maintaining energy and enthusiasm in demanding roles? I’d love to hear what’s helped you maintain your own version of the sabbatical glow, even when real life inevitably returns. Ultimately, this isn’t just about individual resilience, it’s about creating cultures where sustainable work is the norm, not the exception.

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This is part of my weekly reflection on teaching, leadership, and learning. If you’re interested in more thoughts on sustainable excellence in higher education, you can find me at kylaflanagan.com.