Being home during the panini press that was last year showed me that there’s an anxious version of myself that runs on autopilot whenever doing so feels easier than actively caring for myself. She makes choices that undermine what feels best and most gentle in the name of efficacy and completed to-do lists. Last night, she and I were reintroduced as the first day of school had me struggling to choose how much I feel able to prioritize my own wellness over the expectation to perform.
Sure, I walked laps in the building during my planning/lunch yesterday and felt like a conqueror when sweat began to compile under my breasts (because after spending the summer walking/biking outside, walking indoors feels luxurious)! However, I also was up later than intended trying to put together slides I didn’t have the mental capacity for compiling the entire day. It was as if my brain couldn’t focus on the task… until I was in the 11th hour and choosing between completing what needed to be done or losing sleep. And of course, I chose what needed to be done. Because that’s what the hustle mandates. Because that’s how my anxiety manifests itself.
Then came this morning… for no clear reason (aside from the fact that your third trimester of pregnancy isn’t fit for sleeping well), I woke up earlier than expected and before my alarm. Despite knowing I’d benefit from more sleep, I was grateful to “sneak in” some time with God before returning to the school building. Still, I very much resented that it felt like something I struggled to “fit in.” And the cascade of thoughts that followed quickly affirmed that I had rejoined the rat race: I immediately entered mental overdrive about whether I had time to shower before work.. knowing I still needed to pack my lunch and wishing I’d made green juice the day prior (so that breakfast would be easier)… and wondering whether I’d have time to do yoga during my planning (hint: I didn’t).. or complete slides so that they weren’t on my to-do list when I returned home in the afternoon (hint: I did).. and knowing I need the mental space to perfect the query letter for my book and also want to finish painting the vanity that has been cluttering the living room for weeks. Oh, and don’t forget grocery shopping!
If the pandemic has taught me nothing else, it’s that I have no desire to frequent this mental space. I value rest. I value ease. I value my wellness and don’t want prioritizing it to feel like a luxury. If anything, I actively and outright reject the thought. Yet, here I am… feeling called to barter my own time for a system that values my exhaustion.
This type of awareness is only complicated by the reality that I’m choosing to stay home with the baby for the remainder of the school year. Since conception, I knew that I wanted to be at home with this child. Having spent two years at home with Zora, spending anything less than a year with this one felt like a betrayal. Yet, working in such a demanding field while knowing that I’ve got one foot out the door makes managing the juggle all the more difficult. Because managing the juggle while resenting its existence doesn’t make for quick or coordinated hands… just a busy, tired mind with hands ready for things to fall out of place.
It’s no wonder that this morning’s Bible devotional was about learning to wait. This summer, I realized that starting my days slow/with Zora and packing her a balanced lunch brings me legitimate joy. That’s how I want to spend my mornings. With a baby strapped to my chest, doing yoga with their big sister & seeing her off to school. Nevermind, that she cried multiple times before making it to the building on her first day. Never mind that I couldn’t help but wonder if this is one of the small ways we learn to sacrifice our time and desires in the name of “what must be done.”
Still (this is where I search for the silver lining), I get to spend a month or so with young minds. And curate conversations on social justice issues that matter to me… with students that have something to say about them… and the energy/will to do something about it. I get to birth a new version of myself… even if only temporarily. Even if only in preparation for the new me that is sure to be born once this baby arrives. One that juggles teaching and wellness instead of justifying the mythical work-life balance. These are things I get to do. These are choices I am actively making… not being forced into.
And soon… I’ll be opting out of them. And fastening a new version of myself - one that chooses the type of exhaust that I can justify. No matter what societal pressures may try to pull me back to the rat race before I feel ready. No matter what my inner critic says about having a consistent financial contribution. Because I know my time is invaluable. And I know that I’m making faith-based decisions in alignment with what God has called me to do.
But I’m also very much leaning into Mother Teresa’s sentiment that while I know “God won’t give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.” Because duh.