A sabbatical is a period during which someone doesn’t work at their regular job in order to rest, travel, and do research. The term shares the same root as sabbath, an unmistakable connection to a ritual of renewal.

Traditionally, sabbaticals have been a feature of academic careers: university professors would be granted a paid year off for every seven years spent teaching. But the notion of a sabbatical is available to anyone. It doesn’t have to last a year or involve exotic travel or quitting a job. But it must constitute a rest in some form.

All we usually need is a pause by the side of the road. After a few deep inhalations of the world, we can merge back in, replenished.

But every so often, pulling over isn’t enough because continuing on isn’t possible.

This rerouting sounds dramatic, and it is. But it’s also normal, like a winter storm that shakes the limbs of the trees, littering the ground with broken branches.

The thing is, it doesn’t feel normal.

Having the wind knocked out of you feels like a disaster. In a way, it is, because it’s a shock. But it’s not failure. It’s a temporary immobilization that allows you to absorb an impact. A natural resetting of breath.