Burnout

It seems very strange, but I feel burnt out, and school hasn't even begun yet. I don't want to plan. I don't want to get back to school. So for the past several days, I have been thinking about why.

What is it that is making me feel so drained before we even begin?

Several things come to mind. One is clutter. When school ended, we left directly for the U.S. for Tommy's graduation. We left much in disarray here. Then we stayed there for almost 8 weeks. And they were wonderful weeks. But when we got back, on top of my jet lag, it seemed that all I could see was the clutter and disorder of our bookshelves, Joseph's little learning closet, and my upstairs work table.

And Tommy is leaving. So we have been caught up in his preparations. Packing, talking, visiting, laughing, remembering. It is bittersweet.

And big boxes of curriculum in the front hall. I feel overwhelmed by our curriculum. And yet I love the classical approach. So I need to think about how we are working and where our time is spent and what is good and what is bad and what is most important.

Late Friday night, with John and the teens away and the little ones in bed, I dug into Elizabeth Foss's blog, Real Learning. She has four wonderful posts on burnout that sent me to the laundry room first thing Saturday morning to storm heaven. And, wouldn't you know it, when I asked, God immediately responded. I had a better day on Saturday. Why do I forget to turn to Him? I was just on retreat, for goodness sake.

Today, the heaps of laundry are reduced. The clutter reduction has also begun...slowly but surely. And as the clutter in conquered, I know my brain will clear, and I can begin to think about the coming year. I'm not ready to plan yet. The ideas are germinating, though.

When he got back from the campout, John and I talked about this, and we are going to remember (and write down!) some things we talked about on our morning walks in Massachusetts back in June. Then I'd like to look back to the things we thought about when we started this adventure, bringing the oldest two boys home nine years ago. At that time, I wrote down what we wanted from home schooling. What we hoped for our children. What we needed from God to do it. I need to dig that out and remember.

With much prayer, in silence and in thoughtful time with the children, we will start anew.

I am grateful to Elizabeth for reminding me from whence cometh my help. And to my husband who pointed out, "The real work of a retreat always comes after, doesn't it."