Whenever I run into someone who knows that I am on sabbatical, they inevitably will say something like, “Hope you’re getting lots of rest!” And I’ll respond with something like, “Ha, that’s the plan!” But internally I am saying, “I actually still feel tired. Oh crap, am I doing this wrong? Am I screwing up a one in seven year chance to rest?!”

In my more sane moments, I remember that tiredness does not vanish overnight (or over the course of a little over two weeks). I also remember that I am still very much on the clock for one of the more demanding parts of my life: being a parent. Before I took off, I had a lot of people ask me where I was going to go for sabbatical which was always somewhat confusing because most of these people know that I have a wife and two sons. It’s not like I’m going to say to my wife who is a high school Spanish teacher and say, “Alright, I’m off. See you in a month and you guys have fun!” That would be a surefire way to turn a sabbatical into something more permanent.

It probably sounds like I’m complaining and that’s not my aim. A great deal of my time has been restful and I have been grateful for it. Halfway through, I am bumping into the limitations of what a sabbatical can truly be. In the romanticized version, everything just stops. I have been reading about and listening to some podcasts that talk about both sabbath and the monastic lifestyle. Frequently in the discussion of these ideas, the conversation comes back to the desert mothers and fathers: early Christians who went out to the wilderness to dedicate their life to prayer and meditation. And there is part of me that would love to take a stack of books and journals and retreat to a cabin for a month.

Yet life doesn’t work like that.

If you know me then you probably know that I am an enormous fan of DC Comics. Two or three times a month, I head to my local comic shop (Rick’s Comic City; it’s a great place) to pick up several of the titles that I follow. In the world of popular culture, it has been a tough run for DC fans. I enjoy the MCU; it is fun, great world building, and I’m looking forward to where it goes next. But DC movies could be so, so, so, so much better. And while there have been bright spots here and there, it just looks paltry in comparison with the behemoth led by the Avengers and Spider-Man.

But now, at least, there’s a plan. Tim Gunn (director of the Guardians of the Galaxy trilogy) and Peter Safran have taken the reins of DC Studios. Just a couple of days ago, they announced their first projects of their 8-10 year plan for a brand new DCU. I’m cautiously optimistic (I have been hurt before), but I am excited. So let’s rundown what we’ve got.

Superman: Legacy
You need to know that one of my deepest hopes and dreams once we get past all the important stuff like raising my children, being a good husband/son/brother/friend, taking care of my youth at church, etc. is to see a great Superman movie on the big screen. It is a popular saying amongst a circle of my friends that the best Superman movie we’ve gotten is the trailer to Man of Steel (seriously, it’s hair-stand-up-on-end awesome).

Yesterday I took advantage of a gap in my schedule and finally went to go see Everything Everywhere All at Once, which last week landed 11 Oscar nominations. My amateurish review: It is really, really good and deserving of all those nominations. I had a broad idea of what the movie was about going in but I was in no way adequately prepared for what awaited me. As such, I am going to need awhile to fully digest a movie so deeply bizarre, funny, and moving. Also Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness should have its title stripped because EEAAO has way more multiverses and way more madness.

Yet I did want to write for a moment about something that deeply resonated with me while I was watching the film. Ke Huy Quan plays Waymond, the husband to Michelle Yeoh’s protagonist Evelyn. Throughout the movie, Waymond (the first one we meet anyway) is not taken very seriously. He is kind, but seems goofy and is perceived to be less responsible than his wife. Yet on the margins, you can see all the ways in which he is trying to better everything around their family.

Late in the movie, (another) Waymond acknowledges how others perceive him and gives a short speech about how he sees the world. It floored me to the point that I had to go find the film’s screenplay when I got home to make sure that I got down what he said:

On Wednesday, I went to the midweek Eucharist service at St. Bart’s Episcopal. It was a short, simple, and meaningful 30 minute service. Guided by the Book of Common Prayer, we stood up, knelt, read scripture, and prayed together. As the one non-Episcopalian in the room, I was always a beat behind but not in a way that made me feel embarrassed.

One of the aspects of these rituals that I appreciate is that it does not allow those in the pews to be passive observers to the service. We do not just hear someone offer up prayers from a pulpit, but we all kneel in prayer. We do not simply listen to someone speak of God’s grace, but we say words of confession and then are reminded that God forgives us. The liturgy of the service was a literal work of the people.

I am a bit of a worship omnivore. I love the use of creative arts and spontaneity in church. Indeed, I often miss the high energy of bands leading in worship that I experienced for so many years serving at summer camps. But I also feel a deep connection to these ancient practices of reading and kneeling together. It allows me to jump into the river current of the church and be moved with those around me. There is something in those rituals that can resonate deeply.

One of my goals during this sabbatical is to re-ground myself. When life is going a hundred miles a hour, it is easy to get swept up in the next thing that has to be accomplished. I am going to try to slow down and do those things that resonate with who I am.

Ironically, one of the ways that I am hoping to slow down is to run. In addition to being a physical exercise, running has always been a spiritual and mental practice for me. I feel more like myself when I get to run regularly; when I first moved to Nashville it was 3 or 4 runs a week of 4-5 miles. Since Covid that regularity has eroded to a 5K run every week or two.

When my therapist asked me what I was going to do on my first day of sabbatical, I replied that I was going to drop my kids off at school and go for a run. I wanted to get out there and get going.

I did not get out there and get going yesterday morning; at least not in that way. I like to believe this is a sign of maturity. When I was younger and I would go for a run after a long layoff, I would push myself and then I would run sprints afterwards. I would be panting with my hands on my knees saying out loud, “Christopher (my reasonable voice calls me “Christopher”), why are you doing this?” And then I would respond super dramatically, “Because I can.” Then I’d will myself to do another sprint. It was dumb, but you can often get away with dumb when you’re in your early 20s.