Why you should take six months off every five years

In six weeks, I will take my longest vacation ever. I will be off for four weeks and four days. I won't even write a small column in between. And maybe (very) I will even leave my mailbox closed, although I am not sure yet if I dare to do that.
I find it a bit scary because what if I turn out to be unnecessary for my favorite clients during those four weeks? And what if I miss an important email for a big project? In my head, there are mainly a lot of what-if scenarios playing out. But on the other hand: what if I just come back fit and rested after four weeks? And what if that big job can also be done in October? It just depends on which direction you let those what-if scenarios go.
Chief economist of ABN AMRO Sandra Phlippen advocates at Zomergasten for taking half a year off once every five years. That's something different than four weeks of vacation. Phlippen: ‘I quit my job every five years and then do nothing for half a year. But really nothing, I don't look for other work either.’ She does this to find out something important, namely: if I don't work, who am I then? I think it's a good question. How often do you introduce yourself to someone and immediately tell them what kind of work you do? We tend to become our job, which is quite remarkable.
Last year, I worked remotely from Greece for two months, which you should not confuse with a vacation. I set very early alarms, took a morning dip, and crawled behind my laptop from early until (late) lunch. This way, I certainly worked six hours a day, but you know what they say: in Scandinavia, they pack a whole workday into those six hours. I dare say I managed to do that too. The prospect of having lunch on the beach is incredibly motivating. The funny thing was that by working on location, I actually took less vacation than usual. This had to be different next time, hence my four weeks off. But half a year?
Sandra Phlippen explains at Zomergasten why she does this. During the half year, she goes through a process, from processing what she has experienced to resting, reading books, and relaxing. But at a certain point, Phlippen reaches a point where she asks herself who she is. ‘Who am I actually, what can I do, and who will ever hire me again?’ A pretty scary question if you ask me when you're temporarily out of work. The chief economist's starting point is to discover her own interests. Her decision for a next job does not come from what kind of work she has done, but from herself.
It's quite easy because as a chief economist, you naturally have a nice savings pot, but the first time Phlippen did this, it was out of necessity; the second time, she even saved for it. And now she would recommend it to everyone, especially in this time. According to Phlippen's prescription, I am already behind. So I actually need to take a year off to compensate for my ten full-time years. But for now, I will start with four weeks off, although it might just be that you read something about my sabbatical next year.



