Whatever Comes Next: My Sabbatical From Piano Teaching

I taught my first piano lesson when I was 13.

A young girl heard me playing at a local festival and her mother asked me afterwards if I could teach her piano. Once a week, my grandmother drove me over to their house and I taught my first student for thirty minutes.

I was elated. There was so much joy flowing between me and the student during those lessons.

I could do this. I could be good at this. It seemed like a calling.

I earned a music degree, and ended up teaching piano right out of university. I felt like I was discovering a whole new side of myself ( the teacher side), and it was overwhelming in a lot of ways. There was still this voice inside of me that said “You can be good at this.” I decided to trust that voice.

After being diagnosed with Lyme disease at age 23, I decided to take a break from teaching. There was a period of about seven months when I didn’t teach at all. I barely played piano. When I decided to start teaching again, it was hard. Brain fog was consistent, as was exhaustion, and lingering colds and coughs. Still, those connections with my students brought me so much life and fulfillment, I couldn’t give it up. I loved it, even with all the illness in my life.

During Covid, I discovered this wonderful method based around Music Learning Theory and the work of Dr. Edwin Gordon. It shifted my perspective and my teaching completely. I was excited to go into work and try everything I was reading about: singing, chanting, improvisations, mashups, medleys. It was all new and exciting. And this voice inside me said, “You can be good at this. You ARE good at this.”

I did as much training as I could afford (and even some I couldn’t). I began to notice a good shift in how my students responded to me and also in how I responded to them. Lessons felt so life giving and exciting.

Something else was happening, though. All the training was good. All the work was good. There was just a lot of it. While I noticed that my students were improving and growing in ways I really loved, there was only so far I could take them. There’s a lot to it (more than I can explain in this blog post), but what I can say is that lessons began to feel like hitting a big wall.

By this point in my career, I was ten years in and had only ever taken that long stretch of time off when I was very sick with Lyme. I could do all of the teaching stuff: lesson planning, educating parents, creating great recitals, and building rapport and trust with students. But then, this block started to settle over me. I was having a harder time thinking several steps ahead, and when I did think several steps ahead, the energy wasn’t there. A feeling of chronic overwork began to settle in, and I often couldn’t imagine how I was going to get through lessons.

At the same time, I couldn’t imagine a life without piano teaching. How could I leave the thing that had defined me since I was 13?

One day I decided I had to. Really, it was more like several days and nights. As a person of faith, I always try to listen to God when I make decisions. I prayed. I reflected. I prayed some more. I asked for wisdom. The answer came: it was alright to leave. I was very dissatisfied with work. Students don’t learn well from a dissatisfied teacher. It was such a strange feeling letting go of it all. The grief was palpable and intense, made worse by the fact that I couldn’t actually tell any of my students that I was leaving yet.

I actually took a picture the day that I remember it really settling into my heart and soul. The sky was turning a stormy grey overhead, and even though my heart kept pounding at the thought of doing anything differently, my eyes were at peace.

I could be good at something else.

In the months since, I’ve found a new job, and Saturday was my final studio recital for a while. It was a beautiful day, full of gorgeous music and sweet families that I have so loved getting to know over the last several years. I came home and cried a bit afterwards.

I don’t actually know if I will even come back to teaching. This has been my primary job since I was in my early 20s. Setting some kind of timeline for when I “need” to be ready to come back to it wouldn’t be fair. I need a chance to explore and see what’s out there.

Several of my friends are convinced I will be back. Sometimes without thinking I say “When I have my own studio…”, and then I catch myself because I don’t actually know if that IS what I want. Dreams seem a bit elusive right now. I am excited to see and do other things aside from the piano teaching world.

I’ll be working at a bakery for the time being, and it is wonderful. I love going in to work to make rolls, and scones, and cookies. Other things on my bucket list include playing guitar and ukulele, writing a novel, and not being late to social events because of my job. (that last one is actually a real novelty)

There has been so much support and kindness as I have made this decision. I am so thankful for all of my friends, especially the other piano teachers who encouraged me to take time away and dream. To all my students still taking lessons, I hope you know that I loved teaching you. This past month as each of you found out, I was sad all over again to be leaving you. I know it’s for the best, though. My prayer for all of you is that you find more and more delight in your life, your work, and your music.

Here’s to whatever comes next.

P.S. My friend Ruth reminded me that being held in God’s hand is a bit like walking in the air: exhilarating and terrifying, both at once. Here is a piece of music that reminds me of what walking in the air can be like.