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A senior professor’s sabbatical revealed the hidden cost of relentless achievement. Years devoted to work and recognition left her exhausted, disconnected, and facing health challenges. Reflection on this personal story raises broader questions about sustainability: can organisations, communities, or the planet truly thrive if the human spirit is neglected amid progress, targets, and technological ambition?
A few days ago, while chatting with a close friend over the phone, she shared a story that has stayed with me ever since. She had unexpectedly met one of our senior professors near the faculty lift.
Someone she deeply admired but hadn’t seen for quite some time. The professor, a well-respected scholar with decades of experience and numerous prestigious roles both inside and outside the university, was on sabbatical. During their brief conversation, she revealed that this period away from work had been a turning point in her life.
Despite her many achievements and accolades, she came to realise that a life devoted solely to work, success and recognition had taken a heavy toll. The health issues she now faces are not inherited. They are the consequences of years spent in an unending quest for accomplishment. Where rest, reflection, and joy were quietly sacrificed in the name of success. And, as she openly admitted, it is the result of a profound neglect of her inner life. A space where clarity and contentment dwell beyond any title or award. Her children have grown and no longer need her as before. Though she finally has more time for family, they are caught up in their own lives, and many of her old friends have drifted into new circles and interests. As she told my friend, now, the very thought of returning to work after her sabbatical gives her a headache, for it was only in that rare freedom that she discovered what life truly means.
Her words lingered long after the conversation ended. Here was a woman who had reached the pinnacle of professional success. Yet what she found most valuable in her newfound stillness was not another accolade, but a rediscovery of life itself.
During the next few days, I couldn’t help but reflect on the deeper meaning of our daily struggles. Is life merely a pursuit of achievements, work, and productivity? Is such a life truly sustainable? Shouldn’t ‘true’ sustainability, whether in our personal well-being, our communities, or the world around us begin with the humanity within?
Come to think of it, what truly sustains us, and what drains our humanity, is not always visible in the metrics of success.
Having spent nearly two decades in academia, I have seen this paradox surface again and again. Even within universities, spaces where we teach Sustainable Management, and promote Responsible Management Education, and proudly align with global sustainability goals, this irony remains. How many of us are truly living sustainable lives?
Brilliant and dedicated professionals who are deeply committed to their work often find themselves overwhelmed by exhaustion, disconnection, and the gradual loss of joy. Very often, in corridor conversations, chit-chats at the cafeteria or the hurried greetings at the stairs and lifts, I keep hearing the same words repeatedly: “I’ve had enough.” “I can’t do this anymore.”
These are not words of laziness or defeat. But quiet confessions from people who are no longer striving to grow but simply struggling to make it through another day in systems that were meant to sustain them.
This contradiction is striking, and it extends far beyond academia. Across public and private organisations alike, the pattern repeats itself. The language of sustainability has become universal, yet the very individuals driving these agendas are often exhausted, anxious, and discontented.
Having witnessed such situations over the years, I have come to believe that true sustainability must first take root within the individual.
For, without inner balance and clarity, even the well-crafted frameworks, policies and innovations cannot last.
When we talk about sustainability, we often picture solar panels, recycling bins, carbon footprints, renewable energy, and climate targets. I’m not saying these are insignificant. They do matter, but they only tell part of the story.
Behind every sustainability initiative lies something much more fundamental. The human side of everything. In our pursuit of greener technologies and eco-friendly policies, we seem to have forgotten a simple truth, that sustainability begins with people.
Over the past few decades, governments, corporations, and global organisations have built vast frameworks to promote sustainable development.
Yet one question remains largely unanswered. “Can we truly sustain the world if we fail to sustain the human spirit?” Despite decades of progress, the world continues to struggle with widening inequalities, institutional mistrust, growing burnout within organisations and communities losing faith in their leaders.
Ultimately, these forces erode the very foundation of the sustainability goals we strive to achieve. There is ample evidence of this all around us.
These paradoxes reveal a critical omission in the sustainability discourse, the neglect of its human dimension. Unfortunately, most of the time our attention is heavily leaned towards technological advancements, regulatory compliance, and economic optimisation.
In this process the deeper questions of human values, psychological well-being, and collective trust have remained peripheral. Hence, my belief is that sustainability cannot be sustained without people who are sustained in emotional, social, and ethical ways.
In recent years, human sustainability has often been discussed under the umbrella of diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI). These are important principles, no doubt, but only one layer of a much deeper foundation. True human sustainability is not just about representation or fairness. It is about creating conditions where people can truly thrive mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
It is about designing systems that support resilience rather than exhaustion, purpose rather than pressure, and collective trust rather than fear.
A truly sustainable organisation is not one that merely measures its carbon footprint, but one that also measures its human footprint. This includes how people feel at work, how safe they are to speak, to create, and to grow and most importantly to fail.
It is about fostering fearless organisations, where individuals are not paralysed by hierarchy or self-doubt, but empowered by shared values and mutual respect. We need to understand that without sustainable people, there cannot be a sustainable planet.
As I was writing this article, a poem my son recited at school when he was eight came to mind. At that time, I had wondered why a child so young was asked to learn such a thoughtful piece. Today, its quiet wisdom resonates more than ever.
What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare?
These opening lines have never felt so relevant than today.As we grow older, weighed down by responsibility and driven by ambition, often we forget the joy of truly being alive. And by the time we notice, it is often too late.
The full poem, Leisure by W. H. Davies (1911) continues.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
Perhaps the professor’s reflection is not an isolated one, but a quiet truth many of us have yet to admit. In our pursuit of progress, be it teaching, managing, producing, and finally achieving, we often forget that sustainability begins not with technology or policy, but with people. We speak of saving the planet yet neglect to save ourselves from the very systems we built.
Human sustainability calls for a profound shift from performance to presence, from exhaustion to empathy, and from control to connection. It is about restoring balance between our outer ambitions and our inner peace. Just as the environment cannot renew itself without care and restoration, neither can we.
As Lord Buddha teaches, “Attā hi attano nātho, ko hi nātho paro siyā…”
The self is one’s own refuge; who else could be the refuge?
Dhammapada (Verse 160)
This teaching, which is found in the Attavagga, the chapter on “The Self” reminds us that external sustainability or moral behaviour must first arise from inner stability. True inner discipline that consists of self-control, reflection, and understanding, forms the foundation for an ethical and balanced living.
We need to understand that sustainable societies cannot be created through fatigued minds and fearful hearts. The future of sustainability will not be written only in carbon targets or green reports. But in the quiet choices of those who learn to live, lead, and work with humanity.
The writer Ms. Jeevani Senevirathne, is a Senior Lecturer, Department of Business Administration, Faculty of Management Studies and Commerce, University of Sri Jayewardenepura. She can be reached at [email protected]