Sunday, April 19, 2009


This morning I just didn't want to get up. Not that my body wasn't ready to get up, it was my mind that didn't. I didn't want to have to because I realized that it was my last day of spring break and after today, I would have to follow a schedule other than my own.

I have to admit that I am weary. Weary of planning (and I love planning). Weary of always being two steps behind when I really long for two steps ahead. Weary of doing.

Even while on break I was doing things. They were by choice and different, but still, I am weary. Sure warning sign of approaching burnout. I've realized this since Christmas but cannot do anything about it. My only consolation has been that I have "only five weeks of instruction left before summer break." Actually there are six weeks left, but I'm taking the bold step of using five personal days (that I will lose if I don't take them) to go to the beach with my sister the week before school is out. When I get back, only two days left of school. I will have to leave detailed plans before I go, which, in itself, is wearying to do.

During my drive back from Pennsylvania this week, I wondered about my weariness and possible burnout. I've always worked, and worked hard--almost compulsively, with schoolwork, but always on my schedule. I began to question why. Was I tired of learning? Was I tired of following someone else's rules? Was I just plain tired or sick? Was I tired of doing too much?

On that almost six hour drive, I kept myself company by listening to Foundations of Western Civilization II lectures on the era I had just finished teaching--Renaissance Humanism up through English Constitutionalism. I was riveted. So much I wanted to be sure and tell my students next year (which would require me to listen again to these wonderful lectures). Then on the last hour of my trip home, I popped in a conference CD from several years ago by Martin Cothran (this man is a genius I would love to sit under). Cothran spoke on the similarities between the Genesis account of creation and our life in the classroom. Both, he said, are acts of "forming and filling." I was riveted again. Revived. Yet still tired.

With such encouragement from this two erudite counselors, I concluded that most of my weariness is simply tiredness. I am not tired of the classroom or what I do. I'm just tired. This year has been exhausting with six high content classes, each with completely new material which requires countless hours to get it from the source to the student.

This conduit is due for a slower pace. It will come. It will come. I am assured. But I'm still weary. Rather than a whine, take this as a lesson in perseverance.

Step by step.

Line upon line.

Precept upon precept.

And day by day.


Brenda@CoffeeTeaBooks said...

This was the time of year I would get tempted to stop homeschooling. There was such a weariness when even the smallest challenges became huge. :)

magistramater said...

This year has been a struggle for you. I hope next year is better. It is hard to be weary, and much of your weariness is beyond physical. You've been battling attitudes and ways of thinking in your job.

The beach...and Europe! I hope these charge your batteries.