After fifteen years of holding Eshel – its vision, its people, its future – I spent three months letting it go. Not abandoning it, but doing something that can feel almost countercultural in the nonprofit world: stepping back. No emails, no meetings, no decisions. Just rest, reflection, travel, family, and the uncomfortable gift of unstructured time.
I traveled to Spain and Morocco. I picked up new hobbies. I read books that had been waiting patiently on my nightstand. And some of the time, I did absolutely nothing, which turned out to be the hardest thing to do.
Before I left for my sabbatical, I wrote about its roots in the practice of shemitta – literally, “release”. Letting the land lie fallow every seven years is an act of radical trust. It requires us to do nothing, and trust that we will have enough without intervening. It teaches us to relinquish control. I had to let go of Eshel, after being closely involved in its operations every single day for 15 years, and accept that it would be ok without me.
This letting go brought out in me an emotional response I didn’t anticipate: overwhelming gratitude at what we have achieved in 15 years. Orthodox communities do not look the same as when we began this uphill work. Families are different. Shuls are different. Taking all of this progress in, it was time for me to take a second look at some of my previously held ideas, and make space for new ideas and opportunities to blossom.
I’m excited to be back – and to share some of the lessons I’ve learned from taking this opportunity for release.
- Everyone needs time to take a step back and reflect. This experience has enabled me to see our work through a new lens. I saw how necessary and important our work is to so many people – LGBTQ+, parents, Rabbis, educators, lay leaders, community members, and beyond. Getting out of the weeds allowed me to appreciate the birds-eye view.
- Not every hour needs a purpose. We live in a culture that glorifies productivity. But creativity, innovation, and wisdom often live in the moments in between. I learned to protect that space, and I came home committed to protecting time for thinking, for transitions, and for breathing for our team as well.
- I needed to give others space to grow. When I stepped back, there was more space for our incredible staff to step more fully into their own leadership. Without me to lean on, they leaned on each other. The bonds between team members deepened. They solved problems more collaboratively. Each team member had more space to shine and more independence to grow into their strengths.
- Growth takes time. Miles Davis once said that it took him years to learn how to play like himself. The sabbatical reminded me that growing into your own capabilities, and expanding the edges of your abilities, takes time. Every one of us needs that time to nurture our unique skills and talents.
I came back from my sabbatical with a deep sense of gratitude. I am grateful for the lessons I’ve learned during this period, for the staff, volunteers, and board who have kept Eshel running without me, and for the wisdom of our tradition in establishing cycles of rest and return.
Upon returning, I’ve seen firsthand how my own period of rest has transformed me. I know now more than ever that rest is not a reward we earn – it’s a practice we choose. I could not be more excited to be bringing this energy into Shabbat this week at our annual LGBTQ+ retreat, one of my favorite events of the Eshel year.
This year, I’ll be joined by over 150 LGBTQ+ Jews to celebrate Shabbat by resting together. Although our schedule will be full with Torah learning, workshops, davening, and storytelling, the most important thing that this Shabbaton has to offer is space to release.
For many of us, we spend most of the year in communities where we have to manage what to say, how much of ourselves to reveal. This weekend is an opportunity to let go of what we carry the rest of the year – to be fully seen, to laugh together, to bring our whole selves to a space where we can be with others who understand. The retreat is a collective experience of shemitta – letting go to allow new things to grow.
Miryam Kabakov
Executive Director