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Why did we have to cross an ocean to unplug?
Published 1 day ago • 4 min read
Why did we have to cross an ocean to unplug?
Hey Spark Family,
A couple of weeks ago I was in Hawaii.
I stood in the ocean with the waves crashing on me and just took in the colors. There is something about Hawaii that feels like healing to me. The energy, the air, the water, the light. I could feel myself filling back up, and I realized how immersed in productivity I had been.
This week I was on a call with a CHRO I admire, and before we got to work we caught up on our trips. She had just come back from Italy, so relaxed and recharged. And then she posed a question I have not been able to stop thinking about since.
“How do I create these spaces for myself so I don’t have to go to Italy to get that reboot?”
We had both just proven we can unplug. We had also both needed to cross an ocean to do it. That is not exactly a practical plan. Last I checked, my calendar does not have a recurring block that says “cross an ocean.”
So why did we have to go that far?
The honest answer
For me, it has less to do with the distance and more to do with permission. And here is the part I am not proud of. I almost never let myself rest without building a case for it first. “It will make me more productive.” “It is better for my family.” “I will come back sharper.”
I can defend a day off like a board presentation, complete with supporting evidence and a clear ROI. If there were a pre-read, I would send it. What I have never once managed is the short version.
I need this.
Last month I wrote about answering the door in a robe for dinner in Las Vegas. I had to be completely empty before I asked what would fill me. This time I had to cross an ocean. Both times, I waited until the need was undeniable.
Why this is so hard to do
For most of us, it started early. The gold star at the top of the spelling test. The coach who pointed at you after the big play. The parent whose whole face lit up when you brought home the report card. We learned that getting things done earned us something: approval, belonging, a sense that we mattered. So we kept achieving. And somewhere along the way, it stopped being something we do and became who we are.
That is why stopping is so hard. When your identity is tied to achievement, rest does not feel like rest. It feels like falling behind. You finally sit down, and within minutes your mind is drafting tomorrow’s to-do list. Guilt shows up to pull you back, and right behind it is the fear that if you slow down, you will lose the momentum you worked so hard to build. So we build the case. A good enough reason lets us stop without feeling like we are losing ground, or losing ourselves.
Here is what struck me. Researchers at Ohio State and Rutgers studied people who believe leisure is a waste of time, the ones who feel rest has to earn its place. Those people enjoyed their downtime less. They also reported more stress, more anxiety, and more depression.
The belief that rest needs a reason is the very thing taking the rest away.
That finding has been sitting with me for days. (I spent an evening reading research about rest instead of actually resting. I see the irony.) Because “I need this” does not need evidence behind it or a promise of productivity in front of it. It is simply true, and it is enough.
The part I had not considered
The where matters too, and it does not have to be far. Rachel and Stephen Kaplan spent years at the University of Michigan studying what makes a place restorative. It is not distance. It is how different a place feels from the ones that wear you down.
Which is why the couch never works. The laundry. The unpaid bills. The exact spot where you took that brutal call. Everything in that room is asking you for something, and it is hard to rest in a room that keeps tapping you on the shoulder.
What restores us is a place that asks nothing of us and gives our eyes somewhere soft to land. A bench by the water. A trail lined with trees. A chair on the patio, turned away from the house.
My weekly Hawaiian beach could be a trail ten minutes from my house. I just have to let myself go.
Where this shows up in leadership
I see the same pattern in leaders constantly, and I have done it myself.
The leader who will not take the week because someone would have to cover. The person who waits until they are properly sick before they rest, because a fever is the only permission slip their system accepts without argument. The team member who gives three reasons before asking for a Friday afternoon.
Think about the last time someone on your team asked you for time. Did they apologize first? Did they explain?
And yet when someone they respect says, “Take the afternoon. You do not need to be in that room,” they take it. Almost always.
Permission is something we can give. And one of the most powerful ways to give it is to stop asking for the reason.
🌟 Your Challenge This Week
➡ Where are you building a case for something you simply need?
➡ What is one place close to home that asks nothing of you?
➡ Who on your team is waiting for you to tell them it is okay?
And the hardest one:
Can you say “I need this” and stop there?
I am not going to pretend I have figured this out. I will probably catch myself building a case next week. But I do not want to need an ocean to feel what I felt swimming in that water.
So I am going to practice the short version. I need this. No slide deck required. That is the whole sentence.
Grateful, Jackie
P.S. If you say “I need this” this week without a single reason after it, hit reply and tell me how it felt. I read every one, and this time I am asking for me too.
Your weekly boost of practical leadership wisdom - rooted in neuroscience, backed by data, and crafted for real-world results. Each memo offers a spark of insight to help you lead with clarity, empathy, and purpose - especially when things get messy.