Then the world made the decision for her: her uncle had a severe stroke, and as next-of-kin, she had to take immediate responsibility for his care and well-being.

Kiera was overwhelmed with this new weighty responsibility. She decided to interpret the turn of events as a sign from above, and put into motion what she’d been dreaming about for years: taking time off. A long time.

The next nine months after she quit her job and found her uncle managed care became what Kiera called her “Soul Searching Sabbatical.” She checked big ticket items off of her bucket list, like hiking the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal. But she also prioritized important things which she never seemed to find time to do, like spending a month with her ninety-year-old grandfather in his one-bedroom Paris flat. In other words, Kiera made something great out of something bad, and her example shows us a way to make the best out of the pandemic.

Making a Break

For the past four years, I’ve studied sabbaticals, first as a “sabbatee”, (as those of us who take extended time off from routine work are called) and then as a researcher and author on the phenomenon. One of the most consistent patterns I’ve found in researching sabbaticals isn’t what people do on them, but how they begin. Over two-thirds of our participants’ sabbaticals began with a profoundly negative event, not unlike the onset of COVID-19.

These negative events came in two forms. Sometimes they came as a life-shattering wake-up call, as was the case for Kiera. Other times, through the gradual wearing down of our energy levels that suddenly becomes untenable—most commonly referred to as burnout. In our research, we diagnose this condition before burnout as “functional workaholism.” It’s a state of gradually losing vitality, but still managing to perform at a level which arouses little suspicion from those around us.

Whether they refused to continue the slow path to burnout or were forced from routine by an event outside their control, sabbatees report that their time off gave them invaluable space, perspective, and time to better understand themselves, and what really matters. In Kiera’s case, her uncle’s health emergency lent urgency to spending time with her aging grandfather. She also learned that she was much stronger than she ever believed. Not only mentally—perspective from her job let her realize how trying the experience truly was—but also physically: there were many obstacles on the Annapurna circuit she didn’t think she could overcome.

How To Make The Most Of It

To state the obvious: for the super majority of people, the pandemic has been an overwhelmingly negative event. But, as I’ve written about in Quartz, it also has the markings of how most sabbaticals start: we’ve all been jolted out of our normal reality by something outside our control. How can COVID positively impact plans to take time off, and what can people forced out of work take from the research on sabbaticals?

First, a successful sabbatical demands separation from one’s routine life. Normally, the most surefire way to get this is through travel. The pandemic has limited our ability to do this, but the silver lining is that we’ve all been snatched from our routine life.

But people have a sneaky, if evolutionarily helpful, tendency to adapt to their circumstances. Before your “new normal” becomes routine, be intentional about what aspects of your old life you wish to return to, and to which you wish to say farewell. Keep a journal, experiment with new routines, and make the most out of a world where the old rules no longer apply.

For those of you with partners (and with the added fortune of being able to work remotely), the pandemic has solved another of the most common obstacles to taking a sabbatical: spousal logistics. If you really want to get geographic separation, it’s now easier than ever to relocate (see point #1) and also accommodate the non-sabbatical partner’s work demands. Take advantage of this dynamic by spending time somewhere vastly different from your normal surroundings (thoughtfully, and safely with respect to those in your new community of course).

Even in normal times, affordability is one of the chief concerns of prospective sabbatical-takers. Given the new economic landscape, the vast majority of people’s chances of taking a sabbatical may feel thwarted by the pandemic. COVID has forced most of us to take a closer look at our finances. But in the medium-run, this shift from routine life comes with a drastically different relationship with money. Being away from our routine forces us to think more intentionally about our spending habits, which so often run on autopilot. As we financially re-prioritize our lives, we can proactively budget to take time off further on down the road. Having a plan for future time off provides a light at the end of the tunnel, enables us to plan ahead, and reduces the chances of burnout.

After a year of traveling—three months longer than she anticipated—Kiera was finally ready to start the next stage of her journey. She was grateful for the opportunity to step back, and resolved not to wait until it was too late next time to do so.

We all wait too long to take a break. Because of that, it often requires a breakdown to get us thinking about what really matters. If we can take anything from the pandemic, it’s that bad things can often bring out the best in us—don’t let this opportunity for reflection, discovery, and renewal escape!

DJ DiDonna is the founder of the Sabbatical Project and was an Alumni in Residence at the Harvard Innovation Labs. Find out more, and follow along with DJ’s research, stories from sabbatical-takers, and forthcoming book on sabbaticals: Newsletter | Website | Tedx Talk | Twitter