Next month, I get to go on a bucket-list trip—one that’s been more than three years in the making. In preparation, I’ve been checking the weather, writing out my packing list (including the stack of books I plan to take), and mapping out day-by-day activities.

And yet, there’s one thing I can’t seem to stop worrying about: turning off my email for three days.

Yup—amid all the excitement and anticipation, the part I’m most anxious about is unplugging. Not the logistics, not the travel, not even missing a connecting flight. It’s the thought of not checking what’s happening on the other side of that inbox.

Why It’s So Hard to Unplug

If I’m honest, it’s not really about the emails. It’s about identity.

Somewhere along the way, I started to believe that being available 24/7 was part of being a good leader. That my worth was tied to my responsiveness. That if I stepped away—even for a few days—something might fall apart, or someone might think I didn’t care.

The truth? That’s a lie we tell ourselves.

We’ve been conditioned to equate constant connection with commitment. To believe that being always “on” makes us dependable, when really, it makes us depleted. Because every time we check that inbox at midnight, or respond to one more message “just to stay caught up,” we reinforce the idea that we’re indispensable—and that’s a dangerous story to live by.

Here’s the shift I’m learning (slowly): being a good leader doesn’t mean being constantly available. It means being fully present—wherever you are.

So as I prepare for this trip, I’m practicing something new. A pre-vacation experiment in trust, boundaries, and balance.

From Fine to Flourishing

You can’t be well for others until you prioritize wellness for yourself.

That line from Principal in Balance continues to meet me right where I am. Stepping away from the hustle and hurry—and moving from fine to flourishing—takes intentional work, reflection, and plenty of restarts. Thankfully, I’m realizing this before my upcoming five-day, no-work, no-email trip.

Author John Mark Comer calls the outcome of our unsustainable pace “sunset fatigue”—that feeling when, by the end of the day, you have nothing left to give your spouse, children, or loved ones. I’ve been there, done that… and I’m not interested in doing it again.

A Small Step: The Weekly Detox

If you’re not quite ready for a multi-day digital break, start small. Try a weekly detox—an idea I share in Principal in Balance.

Here’s how it works:

• Set a timeframe: 10, 12, or 24 hours.
  
• Create clear expectations: No email. No schoolwork. No social media. No work texts.
  
• Replace, don’t just remove: Go for a walk. Watch a movie without multitasking. Read a book for fun. Garden. Return to a forgotten hobby. Spend time with friends or family.
  

This exercise isn’t a challenge to conquer; it’s a habit to cultivate. A way to remind yourself that rest isn’t a reward—it’s a requirement.

Coming Soon: How the World Didn’t Fall Apart

Here’s what I’m learning—sometimes, the world keeps spinning even when we step away. The emails wait. The problems find solutions. The people we’ve led and supported keep leading and supporting each other.

Maybe that’s the quiet gift of rest: realizing that things don’t fall apart when we pause—they often start to fall into place.

So next month, I’ll report back on what happened when I finally did it—when I turned it off, unplugged completely, and trusted that the work (and the world) would still be there when I came back.

Here if you need me—just not when that out-of-office message pops up next month. Because even leaders need to practice what they preach.

—Jess