Living Awake Through Teaching

Last week, I wrote about Waking Up to Myself—realizing that as a mother, I am also a born person, with my own mind, creativity, and passions worth tending. One of the most surprising ways I’ve been living that out is by stepping back into the classroom.

This fall, I’ve been teaching high school students at our homeschool co-op, leading a course I’ve called Living Literature and Language. We’re reading Macbeth this semester and Wuthering Heights in the spring, and preparing these lessons has been nothing short of exhilarating. My younger two catch glimpses of me through the classroom window, watching as I teach their older peers with energy and joy. My oldest son, who now attends public high school, even looks over my Google Classroom assignments and gives me feedback. They see me not only as “Mom,” but as a person alive to her gifts, lit up by something that has always brought me joy.

For sixteen years, I shelved my training as an English teacher and my experience as a technology facilitator. Those skills sat waiting while I poured myself into mothering. Now they’ve been woven back into my daily rhythm in a way that feels natural, and the truth is—it feels like play. Creating lessons, building Canva presentations and handouts, revisiting favorite texts, designing activities that help students see Shakespeare with fresh eyes—these things light me up in a way I had forgotten I needed.

Charlotte Mason once said, “Life should be all living, and not merely a tedious passing of time.” What does that mean? For me, it’s as if she’s reminding us that living is not simply enduring the hours but filling them with soul, curiosity, and joy.

The sparkle in Shakespeare’s words, the humor in student narrations, the beauty of connecting literature with art and music—it all brings me such delight. Teaching high school English is only one reminder that I’m not just passing time. I find joy, creativity, and fulfillment in doing the same for my children at home.

The way I homeschool is very Charlotte Mason: we read living books, then narrate and discuss the ideas together. There isn’t one lesson that stands out above the others; each book, each conversation breathes life into both me and my children.

Both contexts call me to live fully awake. Teaching at co-op and homeschooling in this way are not separate from my own restoration—they are part of it. Together they remind me that education is as much about nourishing souls—mine included—as it is about covering lessons. And in all of it, I am learning what it means to live awake.

🌿 Living Awake

Let’s slow down and walk through these prompts, the way I might scaffold a Shakespeare passage for my students—step by step, building deeper meaning as we go:

1. Start simple. Think of a place in your life where you are more than just passing time. Write it down or hold it in your mind. What makes it feel different?

2. Add a layer. Notice a moment when teaching, guiding, or learning with your children sparks delight. Why did that moment stir you? What does it tell you about your own soul’s needs?

3. Take it further. Choose one small way to weave beauty or curiosity into your ordinary day—whatever awakens you. A book, a walk, a conversation, a piece of music. Let it be a seed, not a burden.