Do You Need a Sabbatical From Piano Teaching?

Burnout. The term conjures up images of overworked and overly caffeinated individuals caught in a storm of stressful deadlines. As teachers, we’ve all heard the word…and maybe even thrown it around ourselves.

For me, burnout manifested in a few different ways. I was too stressed to fall asleep, and then so tired I could never seem to sleep enough. 

I felt like I was a chess player during lessons, plotting several steps ahead of the student to manage our time and goals. More and more, it felt like I could hardly think ahead at all, especially not in the moment.

Over the course of 2 years, it became very difficult to drag myself into lessons. Teaching – once a beautiful and fulfilling experience – felt like running (or stumbling) into a wall every day.

I had gone as far as I could both professionally and financially at the studio where I taught. Since I couldn’t raise my rates, choose my clientele or cut back, I felt stuck.

How to Know You’re Burning Out

I had observed one of my university professors before and after a sabbatical. He looked very worn out when he left. He returned a year later, well rested, with clarity and purpose.

I longed for the results of his sabbatical, but didn’t feel that I could extend that lengthy sort of break to myself.

It seemed like too much of a luxury.

Family and friends insisted that I could – and should – take a break. “You need to rest”, they’d say.

After years of pushing myself to my mental, emotional, physical and financial limits, “rest” was a hard term to swallow. But they were right. I began the tough process of looking for a new (hopefully temporary!) job.

What to Do During a Sabbatical

I decided to do something completely unrelated to music and applied to a bakery. Working with scones, muffins and bread everyday helped me to find a way around the wall in my mind. 

It was delicious work, and I found that I could really be in the moment rather than having to think about piano lessons.

A piano teaching mentor advised me to do musical things that weren’t related to piano. I’ve attended lots of concerts, started playing ukulele and guitar and joined a choir. 

I also began inviting friends out on long hikes with me and rediscovered a love for writing fiction.

The Upside of a Sabbatical

One of the best parts of not teaching has been the amount of free mental space I have. It’s been a very good thing to discover what my brain is like without 30 students to think about weekly.

I’ve enjoyed the freedom to muse and ponder without having to make any decisions that will affect someone else’s education.

Want to learn more about professional development and avoiding that burnout wall? Check out the articles and resources in the Professional Development side of our Studio Business hub page.

The Downside of a Sabbatical

This may all sound wonderful, but it hasn’t all been easy or good.

I started teaching beginner piano lessons when I was thirteen years old. It’s been a massive and difficult undertaking to make such a huge shift away from a familiar career in my 30s. 

Self-examination has sometimes felt like a really challenging fugue, full of competing voices and complex ideas that I struggle to clarify.

Not forging those deep connections with my students anymore has been tough. I miss singing with them, helping them figure out ways to change their pieces, preparing them for a performance and all of the creativity in between. 

I miss watching them shed their insecurities to grow into their musicality.

Be Kind to Yourself

I initially thought that 6 months would be enough of a sabbatical, and that I’d begin to feel the itch to teach again.

That’s not what happened. 

At this point – almost a year later – I don’t yet know if I’ll return to teaching. There have been many aspects of the job, and its accompanying lifestyle, that I don’t miss. I do miss my students, though, and am reluctant to say I will never return to teaching.

For much of my career, time and patience were things I would extend only to my students and never to myself. I tended to direct my frustrations inwardly. 

Now, though, as I shed my own insecurities, I’m finding that I can give myself some of that same patience and time, too. If I return to teaching, I know I’ll be better because of this sabbatical – and so will any future students.

Whether I return to teaching or not, I’m very thankful for my time as a piano teacher. I’m also grateful for the time to step away to decide if it’s what I want to continue doing.

How has burnout affected you? 

Do you make time to pursue those non-piano things that bring you joy and fulfillment? Tell us about it in the comments.