My First Week of Freedom

The power of a "disconnect trip" as a life transition ritual

I must savor my freedom! I can’t squander it! I mustn’t!

This was the last line I wrote in my journal entry on Sabbatical Day 1. About 45 minutes prior, a little after 8pm, I melted down on what should have been a stress-free, blissful day. I was about to depart on a solo trip to Redwood National and State Parks in far Northern California. Why such drama?

Day 0: Last Day of Work

The previous day I’d ended my 20-year corporate airline career to start a one-year sabbatical. I’d been preparing for this day since signing the paperwork for my early retirement package four months prior. I slowly transitioned my work, backed off decision-making into advising, and mentally prepared for my next phase.

The typical ritual of a farewell luncheon or retirement party was impossible due to the pandemic.

I woke up to a thoughtful gift basket and decorations my roommate had gotten up early to assemble as a surprise. I had a couple of final conference calls. I then drove into the office to drop off my office chair and other company-owned items.

I had only been in the office a handful of days since we abruptly moved to remote work at the pandemic’s onset. I walked around the mostly-empty campus and took a few last photos in memorable spots. Some coworkers surprised me with a farewell conference call letting me know they’d made a thoughtful donation in my name. I dropped off my badge and chair at the designated spot and drove away one last time.

Deleting my work Outlook account from my phone felt like taking off a 50-pound backpack at the end of a long trek. I hadn’t fully disconnected in about 15 years. In previous years, I had taken a few of vacations where I removed work email from my phone. Still the email goblin was snickering in the back of my head taunting me with what fresh hell awaited my return. Even during my cancer treatment, I worked every other week and never really unplugged.

Not this time—die, email goblin!

I had a quiet sunset walk at nearby White Rock Lake with my boyfriend (now husband) and a celebratory takeout dinner at home.

Last day of work pandemic selfie in the deserted lobby

Day 1: Kind of a Bust

So why the meltdown at the end of Day 1?

Building on established daily meditation and journaling habits, I committed to daily reading and yoga for at least the first month of my new life. Instead, I got lost in the comments of my social media retirement announcement and spent too much time shopping for the next day’s disconnect trip. By the time I got to my boyfriend’s apartment that evening, I was a ball of nerves. I hadn’t completed any of the day’s habits. I had a full-on, ugly-cry meltdown.

I’d already squandered Day 1 of freedom.

My boyfriend compassionately pointed out feeling overwhelmed is a normal response to a huge life change. He pulled out my yoga mat for me, and gave me the space for a quick 30-minute yoga practice followed by a bit of reading and writing.

I was already treating my sabbatical like a job, and wasn’t meeting my own expectations.

Days 2-10: Redwood Reprogram

The next morning, I flew from Dallas to the Oakland airport, rented a car, and began the five-hour drive north to the little guest house I rented in McKinleyville, California. I began my corporate detox. Any anxiety I felt about solo pandemic travel or my quitting my job melted away as I drove through the winding wooded hills surrounding the 101.

I spent the next four days hiking through old growth forests. Previous trips to Muir Woods and Armstrong Redwoods had not prepared me for the majesty of this area. I picked this location on a whim at the recommendation of a coworker. I fell in love. The 45-minute drive from McKinleyville north to Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park brought tears to my eyes. I drove through the fog surrounded by trees, periodically kissing the coast with its giant winter waves, golden sunlit haze sitting on top of the lagoons on either side of the narrow strip of road.

There’s a reason why so many films like Jurassic Park and Return of the Jedi have been filmed in this area. These wild, lush forests contain the world’s tallest trees. They feel otherworldly, almost mystical.

I extended my trip twice, adding two more nights at an Airstream Airbnb in Crescent City an hour north, then another two nights at a place overlooking the ocean in Trinidad. I spent a Sunday afternoon hiking Damnation Creek Trail. Heavenly sunbeams broke through the trees as I descended over 1,000 feet to cross a broken bridge to the ocean. The next evening, after a hike, I took a spontaneous 20-mile drive to chase a coastal Oregon sunset. A couple of days later I stopped at kitschy road trip stop Trees of Mystery. There I rode a gondola to see the treetops and learn about the area’s history. It was more educational than I expected. My last day in the redwoods, I splashed and crawled over logs in Fern Canyon, then ate lunch on the deserted Gold Bluff’s Beach.

After eight days in the forest, I felt mentally at peace and happier than I could remember. No one was waiting for me to give input on a staffing plan. I only planned where I would stay, where I would hike, and what I would eat each day. The constant chatter of conference calls and PowerPoint presentations was gone. I’d been listening only to the muffled sound of my own footsteps on the redwood needle-covered trails and the trees creaking as they swayed in the wind. The e-mail goblin was dead. I prepared for feelings of sadness or grief upon leaving my 20-year career. I felt only relief and hope.

This week in the redwoods reprogrammed my brain.

1,000-year-old trees don’t care about your governance meetings

Here are my recommendations for creating your own “disconnect trip” as a life transition ritual:

1. Go into nature

   Pick somewhere you haven’t been to create new memories and associations. Select lodging where you can feel immersed in nature, go on daily solo walks, and feel the awe of something greater than yourself.

2. Go alone

   Going alone gives you more space to think and agency to select every detail. Choose activities that make you feel most connected to yourself. I downloaded podcasts for the drive, packed as many books as would fit in my carryon, practiced yoga, and wrote each day.

3. Disconnect from the outside world

   Clear your mind by removing things that create stress and distraction. I deleted social media apps, avoided the news, and disabled device notifications. I kept my phone with me for safety reasons and checked in daily through calls with my boyfriend. Other than that, the trees were my only company.

Even for just one night, escaping the stresses of everyday life to reconnect with nature and oneself is a powerful way to begin a new phase.

Found my soul on a Sunday afternoon on Damnation Creek Trail

Trail closure “suggestion”

The bridge was fine—reached the coast safely

Oregon sunset-chasing paid off

To plan your own trip to the redwoods, start here.