Blended Learning Journey

Make Space. Find Joy. Begin Again.

For the past few years, I have given myself the month of June “off.” Although I haven’t been able to fully disconnect, I purposefully step back from work during this time. I use this time to stop doing and to start being. I travel, I reflect, I spend time with loved ones – and, of course, I take care of those pesky appointments I rarely schedule during the school year.

Once July rolls around, I start to get the itch to reengage professionally. Instead of diving straight into tasks like lesson planning, which is always my initial inclination, I begin my year with reflection. My reflection consists of an audit from the previous year and the creation of goals for the upcoming year. 

Here’s a brief outline of the process I have followed for the past four years.

• Schedule a day without interruptions. Block the time in your calendar, find somewhere quiet and hunker down. When I first began this process, I thought I could finish in one day. Typically, it takes me a little longer. I have found that 2-3 half-day blocks work best for me. 
• Grab a paper and pen. It might be helpful to have one dedicated notebook that you can use year after year. I like to review my previous year’s accomplishments, goals, and reflections as part of this process. I strongly recommend writing, not typing, your thoughts and observations. Writing by hand encourages me to reflect more deeply and limits distractions. 
• I gather all of my stuff from the year: journals, photos, texts, social media posts, articles, notes, calendar, previous reflections, etc. This is the only time that I use my phone during the reflection. I turn on the “Do Not Disturb” feature to reduce distractions. 

Making Space for Reflection

I divide my reflection into the following areas: identifying the purpose, reviewing previous reflections, journaling, takeaways, and goal-setting. 

1. Purpose: This year’s guiding question was: What brings me joy? To explore this, I reflected using the following prompts:

• How am I spending my time?
• What should I be doing more of—or less of?
• What is my capacity, and what guardrails do I need to establish to protect my well-being?

2. Previous Reflections: I reread my previous reflections to ground myself. They remind me of how I’ve grown and the intentions I set, and offer gentle nudges about where I may have drifted off course. I work to identify common themes, areas of continued growth, goals that have been achieved, and ideas I want to refocus on. 

For example, here are a few reminders that I identified in this year’s reflection: 

• Give what you can. It is enough.
• Don’t let circumstances dictate confidence.
• Delays are not denials.
• Interruptions can be invitations.
• If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.
• Be comfortable living in the in-between—the now and the not yet.
• Leadership begins with the ears, not the mouth. We have two ears and one mouth for a reason.

3. Journaling: This is where all the “stuff” comes into play. I scroll through my photos, texts, emails, articles I’ve written, social media posts, and notes from my devotionals. Then, I step back and examine how I spent my time, asking whether my energy and attention aligned with my purpose. Where did I invest the most time? And does that investment reflect my values and goals?

4. Gratitude: This section acknowledges and celebrates all that has happened throughout the year. Much of my gratitude this year revolved around my family and the meeting our needs. As such, I added a new section to my reflection process focusing on provision. Remembering how my needs have been met in the past helps me trust that they will be met in the future. It’s easy to get lost in the here and now and forget the big picture. 

5. Goal Formation: My primary focus for this process is to ensure that my goals align with my values. I want to spend my time where it counts, personally and professionally. The past few years, I have been in survival mode. This year, I am looking to not only survive but thrive. I started by listing my goals for this year, big and small. Next, I put each goal into professional, personal, and spiritual categories. 

For example, here are two professional goals that I am working towards:

Goal 1: Deepen My Professional Expertise and Share My Learning

• Complete my master’s degree and thesis
• Present at professional conferences
• Blog twice per month on educational topics
• Develop leadership opportunities within my team.

Goal 2: Elevate Instructional Impact for Students and Colleagues

• Revamp course learning team time to make it more meaningful
• Support ACT reading strategies in my classroom and with colleagues
• Build a new U.S. History curriculum
• Continue developing and implementing gamification strategies

Reclaiming Joy

Last year, I was burnt out. Plain and simple. Personally and professionally, it had been a tough stretch. Illness, divorce, graduate school, and an increasing workload had taken their toll. I started this reflection process this summer with one central intention: to find the source of the stress and reconnect with joy.

What I discovered surprised me. The more overwhelmed I felt, the more I abandoned the things that had always grounded me – attending church in person, going for walks, doing yoga, and writing just for myself. Instead of creating space, I added more: new committees, board membership, grad classes, and house renovations. I didn’t give myself grace. I didn’t pause. I kept moving, thinking that “doing” would make things better. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

I realized this pace wasn’t sustainable. Life has to have ebbs and flows, and I was in a constant state of acceleration. I had cut out my sources of solace and doubled down in all the wrong places. I didn’t truly see it until I started writing again. And suddenly, things began to shift. I felt that flicker of energy, creativity, and passion. It clicked.

This reflection isn’t a tidy conclusion. It’s a reminder to choose presence over productivity, to recenter around joy, gratitude, and balance, to set boundaries that protect my health through sleep, movement, and quiet, and, lastly, to embrace challenges as invitations to grow, change, and reimagine who I want to be.

Conclusion

Every July, this reflection process becomes a gentle turning point. It’s a moment to pause before the pace inevitably picks back up. It’s not about perfection or productivity; it’s about anchoring myself in what truly matters. 

If you’ve been feeling stretched thin, I invite you to carve out a little space to pause, reflect, and realign. You don’t need a whole month or a perfectly quiet day—just a willingness to listen inward and ask, “What brings me joy?” You might be surprised by what you find. As another year begins, I’m choosing to start not with urgency but with intention.

Be Well,

Cori