Embracing the Academic Cycle

Illustration from a 1587 treatise on comets and meteors, anon.

Will we ever escape the back-to-school cycle? I admit, I’m a sucker for creating a tidy schedule (to later be obliterated by real-life demands), buying new pens, selecting repertoire for my students, and planning my school outfits (I hope that joy never wears out).

When back-to-school rolls around each year, though, I have a strange feeling of de ja vu. After all, we experience this season in much the same way for our entire lives. Some of us move from higher ed into jobs that aren’t dictated by back-to-school, but if you have children, friends, relatives, or a spouse that are in school or work in education, its unavoidable. If you happen to shop during the end of the summer you’re also met with back-to-school sales and advertising everywhere. It would be difficult to escape this rhythm that dictates so many lives.

De ja vu aside, this season of school beginning can have a New Year’s Eve-esque sense of renewal. An opportunity to set fresh goals, clean up our routines, and dial in on meaningful work. It can provide that opportunity for all of us, if we can get past seeing it as a chore.

This is one of the first late summers where I’m not feeling buoyed by the excitement of the school year starting. Coming straight off of one of my busiest summers yet has affirmed why a long break between academic years is so important. If we’re going to learn, or instruct, with detail and attention to the material and each other, we need space to feel refreshed.

After taking a job interview, an audition, playing a three week orchestra festival, and presenting and performing at the National Flute Association Convention, I’m feeling artistically stuffed and something less than refreshed. Although all of my summer activities were gratifying and challenging in good ways, I long for more slow mornings on our patio with a cortado, crossword, and a good book. I’d like more days broken up by long walks and the loose teaching schedule of the summer.  More chances to grill and visit with friends, and late nights that aren’t capped by school the next day.

So my musical cup was filled in many ways this summer, but if our emotional needs remain neglected it can become hard to breathe life into the music.

What are we to do then when we feel depleted in the face of an unavoidable commitment like the school year? Even though I feel like a small child whining their way into the first day of school this year, I know it will feel good to be among colleagues and students, to participate in all the messy ins and outs of musical and personal growth again. That knowledge helps me gather the resources I need, even though it might feel ideal.

Since I can’t delay the start of the school year, I have to find other, often more subtle, ways to draw the necessary energy and find rejuvenation. Here are some of the ways I’m doing that at the start of this academic year:

Planning a realistic schedule: I know from experience that activities bleed out around the times they start and end and that this can affect my ability to feel ready in the moment, and my time to practice, write, and exercise. I’m doing my best to show this overflow time in my calendar so that I can realistically plan travel and set up time in ways that will help me feel prepared, not rushed, and healthy.

Culling extra commitments: I’m learning (very slowly) to be ruthless with extra commitments during busy seasons. I know that an extra night of teaching will make me feel resentful, that certain gigs are not worth giving up more evenings and weekends for. This takes practice and is not a perfect science, but it’s worth it. (TLDR: Keep learning to say no. It’s ok to screw up and wish you had said yes to something - there will be more opportunities.)

Planning ahead for my personal life: What nights can my husband and I cook dinner together? When will I clean up my office and do laundry? Can I set aside time for reading and other hobbies? When will I do yoga, meditate, and tend to my health? This doesn’t need to be an exact plan but thinking about these things in advance of the first busy week will make it and the following weeks easier. Sometimes a rough plan is enough.

Getting over myself: I often don’t want to do something unless I can carve out exactly the right amount of time for it (I have a small addiction to the utopia of uninterrupted deep work). This semester I’m going to do my best to practice imperfection. Twenty minutes of yoga when I can’t do a full hour is better than no movement at all. An hour of practice is a luxury, even if I’d like three. Teaching at times I don’t love won’t kill me, but I’m not obligated to flip my schedule upside down for the convenience of others.

Trusting my experience and capabilities: This is related to my habit of carving out way too much time for things like writing, practice, and yoga or not doing them at all. At the root of that over-planning is a lack of trust. I know that I can learn music on a deadline, efficiently communicate with others, and manage a variety of responsibilities. Now is the time to put my head down and get to work rather than wasting hours on planning ideal scenarios.

Not feeling quite ready for the school year this year is reminding me how human we all are (read: how human I am). It’s ok for things to feel, or be, a little messy. It’s also reminding me that we can do great work in less than great conditions, especially when we have tools to lean on. The important part is that we keep working with good intentions, keep trying to clear out the noise, and stay focused on what matters. Everything goes in cycles and we’ll catch up to ourselves if we’re willing to be thoughtful and patient (and mindful to not keep taking on more!).

What are you excited about in this school year? What feels like a challenge? How are you planning to balance it all and go with the flow?

Next
Next

Lessons and Strategy from a Failed Audition