Coming Back Is Part of the Practice
Why returning after a break deserves more grace than we give it
By Sue Pendleton, Founder
My dad was one of the most disciplined people I’ve ever known.
He was a technical writer who focused on genetic technology, and his job was not easy. He wrote for business leaders who needed to understand what was happening in a complex scientific industry so they could make informed decisions.
In other words, he had to translate complicated ideas into language people could actually use.
He did that work full-time until he was 85 years old.
He was supposed to retire much earlier.
At 70, he and my mom had their house in New Jersey on the market and were preparing to move to Florida. On the day their house went up for sale, my dad took his regular ferry into New York City, got his regular coffee at the World Trade Center, and went to his office nearby.
It was September 11, 2001.
My dad survived, and I will always be grateful for that.
But his office building was destroyed along with the Towers. And in the months that followed, as people tried to rebuild some version of normal, his boss asked if he would stay on and work remotely for a while. So my parents moved to Florida, and my dad kept working.
Eventually, the company realized everyone was functioning well remotely. My dad realized something, too: he still loved the work. What he had not loved was the commute and the office politics. So he stayed.
And somehow, in what was supposed to be retirement, he built a life that included both full-time work and many of the things he had hoped retirement would hold. My parents traveled. He had lunch with friends. He went to gatherings. He had a full life.
But he planned for it.
A Plan for Coming Back
I always admired the way my dad handled time away. Before a trip, he would sometimes get stressed. There was always work to finish, deadlines to meet, and things to get in place. But he would make a plan. He worked odd hours when he needed to. He wrote late at night or early in the morning. He figured out what had to happen before he left and what could wait until after he returned.
Then he went on vacation. And when he was on vacation, he was really there. He rested. He explored. He enjoyed himself.
The part I appreciate even more now is that he planned for leaving…and coming back. He knew reentry would be its own thing. He knew he might be tired, jet-lagged, rusty, or not fully back in rhythm. So he gave himself a way to return.
He did not expect himself to land back home and instantly operate at full speed. He had a plan for easing back into the work. At the time, I think I understood this as discipline.
Now I understand it as wisdom.
The Fragility of Reentry
As artists, solopreneurs, and working humans, we often treat breaks as the thing that disrupts the practice.
A vacation.
A family trip.
A busy season.
An illness.
An injury.
A week when life simply takes over.
The break itself is not the problem. The fragile part is the return. Because returning asks us to begin again when we are no longer in rhythm. And if the thing we are returning to already feels uncomfortable, unclear, or easy to avoid, the return becomes even harder.
That is especially true with marketing.
Most artists don’t hate making art. They may struggle with parts of the process, but the art itself usually matters deeply to them.
Marketing is different. Marketing often feels like the thing they know they should do, but do not particularly want to do. So after a vacation or a break, jumping back into marketing can feel oddly heavy. Because momentum has been interrupted. And momentum can be hard to rebuild.
The Roulette Ball
When I worked at Good Morning America, the pace was relentless. The news did not stop. Every day moved fast. The work was reactive, urgent, and often stressful.
I had an old boss who described the first few days back after a long break as feeling like the ball in a roulette wheel. You’re bouncing around, trying to find your place again. That image has stayed with me because it is so accurate. Even when you are returning to work, you know how to do, there can be a strange disorientation at first.
My boss understood that and the team made room for it. We all knew the first day back was not always the day to expect perfect rhythm. There was a little grace built in.
I think artists need that kind of grace, too. Especially when returning to a marketing practice.
Exercise Taught Me This, Too
I have also felt this in my body. After Covid, getting back into exercise was hard. After a long injury, it was hard again. And every time I return after a break, I have to remind myself of something I know from experience: The first goal is not to feel strong. The first goal is to show up.
I may be slower.
I may be weaker.
I may be frustrated.
I may feel like I lost progress I worked hard to build.
But I also know that if I keep showing up, something eventually shifts.
One small thing feels better.
One movement feels easier.
One workout feels less impossible.
One day, I realize I am not starting from zero anymore.
But that takes faith.
And honestly, it takes a willingness to slog through the awkward beginning. That is not glamorous. But it is part of the practice.
Marketing Needs a Reentry Plan
This is something I want to build more intentionally into ENSOhello. Not just how to begin a marketing practice. Not just how to stay consistent when everything is going well. But how to return when life interrupts the rhythm. Because life will interrupt the rhythm.
The goal can’t be a practice that only works when life is perfectly arranged. That is not real life. A sustainable practice needs a way back in.
The way back in should be small. Just one next step. Just one small task to say, “I’m back.” It might not feel like much, but after a break, it will be enough to move to the next step and the next.
Grace Matters
Planning is useful. If you know you are going away, it can help to schedule a few things before you leave. It can help to decide what your first small post will be when you return. It can help to give yourself a lighter first week back.
But plans do not always happen. That does not mean the practice is over. It just means the return may need to be gentler. A sustainable marketing practice can’t depend on never missing a week.
It has to include the ability to begin again.
The Practice Is in the Return
I think this is what my dad understood so well. He knew that leaving well mattered. But coming back well mattered, too. He did not leave reentry to chance. He respected it as part of the work.
That feels important to me now. Especially as I think about artists building a marketing practice. The goal is not to stay perfectly consistent forever without interruption. That is not how life works. The goal is to build a practice you can return to. Coming back may feel awkward at first. That’s okay.
You don’t have to restart with a grand plan. You just have to return. And that counts.
