DESTINATION UNKNOWN | THIS IS PERSONAL

By Shobhini Mukerji, Executive Director, Abdul Latif Jameel Poverty Action Lab (J-PAL)
Sabbatical Dates: 1st January 2025 - 30th April 2025

Earlier this year, I took a sabbatical. It was something I had long thought about but never quite imagined how transformative it would be. The time off wasn’t about doing more. It was about being more — more present, more grounded, and more attuned to what matters.

Bucket Lists
Everyone has one – putting off till retirement. This was a good time as any to indulge in mine. I began my journey in South America—soaking in the otherworldly charm of Peru, learning about the Incas in Machhu Pichhu, and enjoying pre-Inca hospitality with an overnight at a homestay on a peninsula off Lake Titicaca. I practiced my photography in the cloud forests of Ecuador in the Andes amidst obliging toucans, hummingbirds, antpittas, cock-of-rock and what have you. The Galapagos Islands were a lesson in evolution, from Darwin’s finches to the giant tortoises and marine iguanas. I swam with penguins and sea lions, snorkelled amidst the white tip reef sharks and marine turtles. I explored haunting beauty of the Sundarbans, its mangrove forests, myriad kingfishers, and witnessed a tigress taking her cubs to safety amidst a torrential storm, away from inquisitive humans on boats flocking the tidal waterways.

Rest and Recalibration
For the first time in a long while, I let go of to-do lists, put off my morning alarm, and found joy in the smallest things: decluttering my study, culling my wardrobe, organising papers piled over the years—not just for order, but as an act of essentialism.

This decluttering wasn’t just physical. It began to shape how I think. Letting go of physical clutter meant much more than just clearing space. I woke up with a quiet mind, choosing to greet each day as it came. My mornings were slow, my evenings intentional. I cooked more, exercised regularly, and reclaimed small rituals—reading in the mornings, sipping tea in silence, and eating mindfully. I found joy in tending to house projects long delayed. I ate better, exercised more regularly, and began choosing simplicity over busyness. Even my wardrobe taught me lessons in discipline, restraint, and the question: do I really need this?

My only consistent struggle was creating and maintaining routine. But even that felt okay. Some days flowed effortlessly, while others drifted. That drift, however, taught me to be kind to myself. The unaccomplished list taught me that I didn’t need to “do more” to have gained more.

Passion Projects
The only “work” I allowed myself was a research project close to my heart – studying Pratham’s Second Chance program, which gives girls and women who dropped out of school an opportunity to complete their Grade 10 exams, a stepping stone to doing better in life with more opportunities. Young girls and women, many of them mothers themselves, were working tirelessly for their exams, enrolling in college, or building their careers. Their stories of determination were living proof that second chances can be powerful transformations.  In the face of their realities, I felt small, but grounded. Our research team had to shoot a community mobilisation video in-house, and I became the videographer—an outlet for my love for photography and storytelling.
 
The Inner Journey
The most important path I walked during my sabbatical was inward. Amid all this, old questions surfaced. Why am I here? What does it mean to be useful? The sabbatical helped me ask: How can I be the best version of myself—at work, in relationships, as a parent, and to myself? The memories that linger most in this journey: an unhurried lunch with school mothers on a weekday, sleepover with my college friend, mid-day walks with Kuky (my four-legged Indie), time with Tara and Kabir – and all of which was beautifully ordinary. Visiting art and photography exhibitions, bookshops, volunteering in school fairs, arguments over homework and laundry, conversations on angst of pre-teen life – I took it all in. I was present and in the moment. There was no presentation to send, budget to review, email to approve.

Another insight I carry forward is the discipline of essentialism: discerning the vital few from the trivial many, simplifying, and knowing when to say no. This applies not only to my wardrobe or tasks, but conversations, decisions, even emotions. It’s the awareness that every “yes” means a thousand silent “no’s”. I am learning to live by the principle of “less but better”. At work, this means simplifying complexity, deliberate trade-offs, the discipline of saying no when needed, and focusing on what truly matters. At home, it means investing in health, learning, and relationships—currencies of a good life.

You do You
Now this is the important bit – I didn’t allow myself to feel guilt. Guilt that I had the privilege of sitting home doing nothing, guilt that I wasn’t contributing to household expenses, guilt that there was no dramatic re-invention of myself during the sabbatical – no declaration of that moment when you find your calling.
What surprised me most was how little I struggled with “not doing”. There was no FOMO. I didn’t miss out; I opted in—to silence, simplicity, and slowness. I had wondered: Would I emerge changed? Would people expect me to? But change came not as dramatic re-invention, but as a shift in rhythm. A resting heart.

Yes, I still worry about where we are headed as a race, the fragmentations, shifting priorities, all that risks losing hard-won progress in the fight against poverty - but during the sabbatical, I gave myself permission to switch off—and it helped.

Advice for Future Sabbatical Takers

• Remove work email from your phone. Mute WhatsApp work groups.
• Don’t make to-do lists. Or make them, then delete them (as someone told me)
• Sleep deeply. Read widely. Reflect constantly. These fuel your best ideas.
• Don’t feel pressured to “use the time well” – trust that it will come.
• Build exercise into your daily rhythm. It is self-care.
• Take no less than six months. Time is the real teacher. It can’t be rushed.
• Gratitude. To the people without whom, you could not have imagined taking this time off.

In returning, I don’t come back with dramatic declarations. Instead, I return with a stronger core, a quieter, clearer voice. The journey outward has ended for now, but the journey within continues. While cleaning my study, I came across a note from my father in a college diary: "The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away." I finally understood what he meant. That single line gave me a renewed purpose. And I feel I am living it.

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