Before winter left, I longed for spring. It’s a natural urge, the eagerness to move from “this” to “next.” It’s a natural need, though, to pause on purpose and sift out sweet things from where we’ve been before we rush on. But it’s not natural.
For the past few years, while online communication was changing, I mostly put my blog home on the shelf and promised it I would come back, without really knowing. I was in another season. Now that season is changing and I’m in the awkward space of “transition.” (More on that another time) In an act of kindness, God timed the actual day of change on the same day JoHanna packed up her classroom and also prepared for a move. It’s good to shift with someone you love. The kindergarten hallway was filled with remnants of bulletin boards and out of date books. It was a team effort to pack her room full of teaching and learning and prepare it to wait in the garage for the new classroom.
The end of a school year, whether at home or away, can feel like a big end to a big chapter. Whether beautiful or hard, the school year transition always feels like a big one for me. It still does.
As a teacher and mom and education leader, the rhythm of school year endings has left me with lessons that work for life too. Every ending needs an exhale. It’s the simple step of taking time to blow out what you’ve taken in. Without making and keeping space to slow down, breathe, listen, and learn, the whole chapter we just lived misses a lot.
I’m not a scientist, but a little learning reveals that the exhale is the step where we blow out the waste, the CO2, that developed as our body did the work of making energy. We suck in breath when we’re surprised, overwhelmed, or working. Being mindful of letting the exhale happen helps us to slow down and relax. When we carve out time and space to “exhale” after an ending like an exit from a job, a school year, or a season, we teach our children rhythms of rest and reflection.
If we just let life happen after an exit, we’re likely to miss out on conclusions that emerge when we allow time to look back, reflect, and rest. A full exhale allows time and space to slow down and let out the waste of a season, completing the exercise. An exhale may look like a morning or a day or a week, and it may happen on your front step, in your bedroom, or away from home. Resources of time and money and help usually shape the way an exhale looks, but making room for it allows for celebration and learning. It signals to your body and heart that the experience is finished. It also gets you ready for what’s next.
Every ending needs an exhale.
If the end of a school year is still in your rear view mirror, you might really enjoy the Table Talk cards Christen Price and I just created and shared to help parents practice exhaling with their students. It’s not too late, even if your kiddos rushed forward into summer or you raced ahead into day camp or VBS or days at the lake. An exhale can happen later, if it didn’t happen right away.
If you just finished a season like I did, you might start with a full cup of coffee, a blank journal page, and your phone on silence. I also keep my prayer journal and my Bible close by for exhaling. Rest and reflect on what was, and make some deposits for what’s to come.
And before I end this post, we don’t have to wait for a big exit to exhale. We need the regular rhythm of pausing to blow out the things of life so we listen and learn from them. That’s good for students and for grown ups. After all, the Bible says, “you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes,” (James 4:14). Life is like a single exhale. It’s worth giving ourselves permission to pause, let go of the hard things, seek out the good things, and breathe in what we need for life we’re meant to live.
If you’d like to get the free PDF of After School Table Talk conversation cards and news about the ABCs of Praying for Students coming this summer, you can find those details here. Christen and I would love to send them to you.