Right now I’m struggling with a long piece I plan to submit to Suite101 for dissection and, hopefully, approval. This submission is part of their review process and is a necessary ritual devised to help new writers at the popular freelance hub come to terms with writing online. Despite being a mandatory exercise demanded before being haphazardly unleashed on their site to waffle on about whatever you choose, I have no problem receiving whatever criticism my faceless editor has to offer. Of course, ask me again after said critique has been received and I may be singing from a different, and more vitriolic, hymn sheet.

I was accepted to Suite101 with a certain amount of aplomb but have been putting off my inaugural submission for numerous reasons; the above procrastination bugbear being the most prevalent.

Getting accepted as a contributor to Suite101 had all the hallmarks of making the grade of a much more exclusive and secret sect. They even used an exclamation mark when congratulating me on my new Suite-y status. That said, I’m under no illusion of just how rigorous this vetting procedure may actually be and I’d be interested in hearing of anyone who has ever received a rejection letter from them. Maybe this does indeed happen, but for some reason I’m assuming it takes a certain special someone not to pass their quality check. Let’s face it. If you’re going to go through the hassle of submitting two samples of over 400 words and the obligatory roasting of why you think you’re good enough to write for them, you’re probably already proficient enough to get the final nod. I could be wrong. Maybe I have just been accepted into a wonderful and secret cabal few others get to experience and, before I’ve even signed the electronic contract, I’ve gone and insulted my new brotherhood. Apologies in advance to my new Suite101 cohorts if this is the case.

So, as you can see, I’m procrastinating. During this period of aloofness the following article on WebWorkerDaily found its way to me via one of the many procrastination channels the Internet, Gtalk, Twitter and email dutifully provides. As a short abeyance from my mammoth treatise for Suite101 on how I think Sony are re-positioning themselves for “The Big Win” in the console race (write about what you know, right?), I thought I might touch upon the idea of sabbaticals and why they are becoming crucial for creative people as a mechanism of both furthering their careers and maintaining some semblance of sanity. If they wish to remain creative that is.

The article features Stefan Sagmeister and his unique approach to how he earns his living. If you’re not familiar with Stefan Sagmeister, don’t worry – it’s not vital to have a deep knowledge of the man to appreciate his wisdom and the lifestyle he espouses. Stefan is a graphic designer of considerable talent and notoriety, one of those creative and cultural mavens who seem to exist slightly outside of the reality the rest of us gleefully inhabit. As we struggled to make mortgage payments and spent our waking hours worrying about the recession, Stefan was in Indonesia taking a year out to explore some “personal work” ideas.

And herein lies the crux of Stefan’s ideology. As creative people, it’s just not possible to constantly produce quality content without stopping and reflecting on where we are, what we’ve done and what we still want to achieve. Hence, rather than adhering to life’s standard path of studying, working and then retiring, Stefan takes a novel approach and interjects regular sabbaticals — in reality mini-retirements — into his working career. Work for seven years, take a year off. Repeat.

The beauty of Stefan’s approach to work/life balance is how followers of this admittedly new-age approach towards the orthodox career mentality get to experience some of life’s joys sooner rather than later.  Personally, I’ve always considered it a great paradox how retirement comes toward the end of one’s life when periods of it could be better enjoyed during the ride when everything was in optimal working condition. There’s no mystery as to why this particular life-cycle (or work-cycle) has traditionally played out. After all, it’s only logical that it should take a considerable about of time to stock the coffers before leaving gainful employment for good. But just because this is how people have engaged employment for generations, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the only way.

In fact, considering how much the way we work today has changed indelibly from the landscape in which our parents worked, there’s a great deal of sense in suggesting that this trusted and restrictive paradigm of working non-stop and then abruptly stopping for good may need to suitably adapt to our new working culture.

With the concept of work-from-home freelancers and people earning money from the web kicking into high gear over the last few years, the traditional approach to earning a living by driving to a building and trading in your hours for a handful of dimes (thank you Mr. Morrison) is now just one of many ways to fund life’s perpetual expense account.

Technically I’ve been on sabbatical since the first week of this month. But how do you actually define a sabbatical? Is it sitting on your arse all day playing videogames or is it simply moving away from what you know – your comfort zone even – and doing something different? Can you garner earnings during a sabbatical or does that go against the very ethos of what a sabbatical represents? The answer is obviously: your sabbatical is yours to do whatever you want with it.

I’ve spent most of the last three weeks looking for writing gigs (with some success I might add, but more on that later) and setting myself up, at least mentally, with the necessary shift in mindset required when advancing from a high-stress office job to a high-stress (because you’re self-employed) writing one. Come Tuesday, however, and the sabbatical starts outright when I pack more gadgets into a large black bag than humanly thought possible and travel around the world. It’s a three month trip, and though hardly the equivalent of a Stefan Sagmeister-esque year off in Bali toying with abstract ideas and getting into adventures, it signifies a complete break with my old existence and a further step towards this new one I’m attempting to forge.

This is my sabbatical and yet I plan to spend it writing, networking and preparing for the next chapter. When are you going to step back from the grindstone and say: I’ve worked hard. Now it’s time to live a little?

Photo credit: joyfullmarketing.typepad.com