“Like one of those silent retreats with the monks?” 

Until two weeks ago, that was my definition of Quiet Vacationing. According to Forbes, I was wrong. 

Quiet vacationing describes a practice of taking time off without telling anyone you’re taking time off. So, leaders, it means you have a team keeping the green light on just enough, scurrying into a quiet corner to answer the phone. We had The Great Resignation. Then Quiet Quitting. Now Quiet Vacationing.

In hindsight, we could have heard this coming.

As leaders, we can’t create a culture of quiet anything. We need to foster collaboration, transparency, innovation. We need to drive retention and action. None of that happens quietly. So creating a culture of quiet vacationing is concerning because it could be a symptom of other unspoken problems.

And while culture is a team-, org-, company-wide concern, as leaders it’s our responsibility to set the example.

So I thought: is my calendar quiet? Is it a shout? Or a careless whisper? Or some other 80’s musical reference? What kind of leader does my calendar paint me as? 

What I’ve done: clock-in culture

My approach to time as a leader has evolved. My first “real” job was in a culture that I’ll describe as “arrival and departure.” The structure had a built-in lunch expectation. So from my cube at 47th and Avenue of the Americas in New York City, I could make it to one of the fifteen bodegas within a four-block radius, get a custom salad for eighteen dollars, and perhaps enjoy it with a few colleagues, perched in front of the Robert Indiana LOVE sculpture. Doctor’s appointments equaled vacation time. Working from home was not a thing. And my allotted 10 days of PTO were meticulously planned out for the year. 

There was little need or expectation to communicate priorities outside of work. The rules were clear: arrive at nine, depart at five. You get the work done. You request time off. You get the work covered. Rinse and repeat. There was no room for quiet vacationing. 

So that was good, I think?

The next chapter of my career wasn’t tied to a cubicle. I was traveling 70-80% of the time. Hong Kong. Indianapolis. Antwerp. Seattle. No one saw when I arrived and departed; they trusted that I got the work done. Then I built a team on that same foundation. In an in-person working culture, we were the original remote team. 

Being trusted with time was invaluable. It meant meeting expectations and making decisions that were a win-win for me, the team, and the organization. And I was encouraged to have open, honest conversations with my leader, colleagues, and team members about what we all needed to do, what we needed time for, and how we could make it all happen. In an environment that could have created quiet vacationing (remote, travel, global, “going through a tunnel and may lose you!”), trust ensured it stayed loud.

“Work-life balance” was something I still struggled with and thought was reserved for people with family commitments. Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, catching up on emails, I realized: it came down to trust.

But that early-career nine-to-five was still hardcoded into me, just waiting to be in the next feature release. Which, as it turns out, was March 2020. 

Here’s what I do: plan and be visible

When reality started being called virtual, my comfort with the clock-ins came flooding back. 

Except I forgot the clock-out part. In our virtual world, I was always on. Once again I kept my personal life to myself (undoing what took me two decades to learn: that we have one life—not a “personal” one and a “professional” one). 

Extreme accessibility was necessary for a while. But out of my entire career, the most recent chapter is filled with a higher number of “even better ifs” or “damn, I could have done that differently.” Or simply: “I f’ed that up.” I attribute some of that to not getting ahead of my own time. Creating a perception that I was always accessible. I wasn’t quietly vacationing, but I was quietly trying to manage life while constantly worrying I might let someone, somewhere, down. 

And as our founder says, worrying does nothing. Take action. 

It was a few critical conversations with colleagues that shook me into action. By not proactively creating a calendar and communication cadence, I was simply reacting. And I was communicating a norm of reactivity, which can contribute to a culture of reactivity. So I went from quietly reactive, to (more) loudly proactive. 

I’d describe my current calendar as a solid, indoor-outdoor speaking voice. It’s not quiet. And it’s not shouting every detail. The calendar is public (that’s part of our culture at SNP). Anyone can see the meeting names, attendees, details of meetings. It also has work blocks that do get populated with the actual to-do’s (like right now there is a block that says “Writing Block: OH SN*P”). It also has “Pilates” from 7:15 to 8:00 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And “Yoga Teaching” from 5:45 to 6:45 on Monday evenings. That’s not code. Pilates means the tiny-muscle-strength workout and Yoga Teaching means I am, well, teaching a yoga class. They have nothing to do with SNP, but all of SNP can see it. Not quiet. 

The calendar “meetings” also aren’t boundaries or rules. Just as my SNP responsibilities are driven by conversations, meetings, events—my personal responsibilities can get the same type of management. So Pilates is on my SNP calendar. Yoga teaching is on my SNP calendar. They sit outside of those nine-to-five hours and they can be moved or canceled, because my SNP life is not just between those nine-to-five hours. And that’s to be expected. I now do a much better job of integrating my life into my life, and loudly, consistently communicating that integration. 

My approach to calendaring and time and leadership—which created my point of view to quiet vacationing—came from my own experiences, candid feedback from trusted advisors, and an almost constant search for leadership skills. It just became easier when everyone knew everything. Or at least most things. 

What I’ve learned: 3 steps leaders can take

Which brings me to today. Two colleagues asked me to create a POV on Quiet Vacationing. Then you remember what happened: 

I said “monks?” 

They said “no.” 

I did research. 

I read the articles. I reached out to leaders in my own trusted network. Some I’ve known for decades. Some I hired, some hired me. All of whom I’ve worked alongside. They have titles with Vice President, Head of, Partner, from industries that range from technology to retail to manufacturing. 

I asked them their opinion on quiet vacationing. None knew what it was by name; they all understood it as a concept. Their responses were visionary, empathetic, and practical. Here’s what they consider: 

1. Leaders think about time—a lot. 

They already fit a number of responsibilities into one life. Launching a global program and renovating an entire house. Leading a revenue transformation and coordinating a multi-state college tour. It’s not a flip of the switch. It’s dialing down and dialing up, all to create space. Constant motion, movement, and micro-decisions around priorities. 

2. Leaders communicate culture into existence. 

It goes beyond our shared responsibility to be culture carriers—from IC to C. They have a keen awareness of how many eyes are on them as they make each decision because team members look for the norms outside of the published rules. Side comments are scaled, eye rolls are magnified, and making it about you (“That’s so nice, I would love to take a vacation, but I’m just too busy!”) drives everyone to go inward. Leaders set the tone. Quiet vacationing is a culture problem. Language communicates culture. So if there is a stigma around taking time off, a fear of not being seen as loyal, productive, or producing when lay-offs linger—a leader’s mixed messages around vacation won’t stop a team member from taking the time…it will stop them from communicating that they are taking the time. Nobody wins. 

3. Leaders are very intentional when sharing the context of their calendars with team members. 

If a block is marked as “unavailable,” how to get ahold of them is also included. Or, more context is shared in a team meeting, or over Slack. Each leader I talked to balked at the idea of quiet calendaring––think mysterious responses of “can’t attend” or blocks of “Do Not Schedule.” If you take your kids to school each morning and are unavailable for meetings, then block the time. Your team can’t read your mind or remember your daily schedule. Avoid the back and forth, just communicate availability. The cultural norms of your company may then inform the level of detail you provide.  

Avoid a quiet culture 

Here’s where every leader agreed, vehemently. Vacation and life integration (notice I am not saying “work/life balance”) are necessary and related. Both serve our physical and mental health, which just make us better team members, leaders, clients…parents, partners, friends. Better humans. The point for leaders: we need to be talking about both, openly, with our team. If we don’t want a culture of quiet vacationing, we can’t create a culture of quiet errand running. Quiet doctor’s appointments. Quiet school-drop-off. Quiet workouts. We can’t create quiet calendars. 

We either normalize life integration with our words and actions or we acknowledge that we’re quietly creating a clock-in culture. 

Questions to ask your team

So talk to your team…

• What are their priorities (all of them)? 
• How can you collaboratively support those priorities?

While my calendar is public, it’s been a while since I’ve opened up the conversation. That’s my action item. 

Pump up the volume

Quiet vacationing. Stressful. No one benefits. We all carry our own bespoke set of baggage around how we manage and communicate priorities, time, and time off. Leaders, keep thinking about it and then talk about it even more. Make your decisions intentional and clear. Acknowledge the differences between vacation and integration. 

The sound of silence is damaging. Leaders, it’s on us to pump up the volume.

Curious about how managers can help their teams take effective time off and not quiet vacation? Check out this blog on helping your team unplug from work.