I took this week off for what I used to call a Grief Week, but I think going forward will perhaps call a Reset Week. In early January 2022, I had extra bandwidth: I was playing cards with Sam in the evening instead of working, and getting up early to meditate or do some creative writing. In contrast, February had few margins for creativity or rest, packed instead with deadlines and to-dos. The last two weeks I’d been feeling very grief-y and very stressed. I expected this week off to be flooded with tears as a result. After a few days of unwinding, I’m discovering that instead, stress and grief have knitted themselves together in my body over the last few years.

Monday ended up being a secret workday, with no meetings. It was the only way I could make it through last week intact and meet deadlines. I ended up quite angry at the delay in much-needed scheduled PTO; last week’s survival came at a cost. I also realized I should have asked for an extension for a revise and resubmit. You’d think by now I’d be better at asking for help, but instead it’s set the default bar in my head too high, like I can only ask for extensions if a parent dies. This is ridiculous. I at least got out for a short afternoon hike, because as my wise spouse said, “What’s more important to you right now? Avoiding working in the evening or some time hiking in the sun?”

The rest of the week I have honored my planned time off. I’ve checked off many boxes on my grief week menu and self-care tracking system including multiple hikes, a bike ride, meditation, acupuncture, reading a grief book, journaling, therapy, working on my own book, and coloring in the garden with Theo. The sun and great temperatures have been a balm.

Honestly, I could use another week off and then a few weeks with no/minimal meetings to catch up on professional thinking and writing while continuing my investments in self-care. I’ve been intending to take no-meeting-weeks at least quarterly, but I may need to bump this up to monthly. I’ve now ensured every month of my professional calendar through 2024 has a week labeled “PTO/No meetings” …but I have not yet truly emptied those weeks (for example, a week in January 2023 has 14 meetings already scheduled). Setting these types of boundaries takes a remarkable amount of time and effort, and frankly, is counter to the academic culture. This is ironic given that it would let me catch up on my work and wellbeing, thus improving my quality of life and likely the quality of my academic outputs and longevity in the field.

Amid all this, I am grateful that the structure of my job is one where I do have autonomy over my own schedule. I am grateful to colleagues who encourage PTO, model time off themselves, and celebrate boundary-setting. I am grateful to friends and family who validate the hard work of grieving and reinvention (and parenting), and who can listen without giving advice (something I aspire to). I am grateful for the earth holding me up, for time passing without effort, for the sun contributing to growth.

I wish you restoration time this weekend, or at least moments of peace in this chaotic time.

Krista