It is no secret that educators and school leaders are carrying the weight of growing needs and diminished resources. Caring for others, particularly in challenging and uncertain times, takes an emotional toll. There is a constant pressure to keep showing up, which can make it difficult to even see that we have choices.

When we’re exhausted or overwhelmed, it’s easy to believe there’s only one way forward: to push through. Yet, the truth is that we always have choices; we can create these small, powerful moments to pause, honor our feelings, and consider our options.

This month, I want to share a story from my upcoming book, Living with the HEART in Mind, that reminds me of this truth. It’s about a time in my life when I believed I had no choice but to keep moving forward—until life reminded me otherwise.

“A few years back, I was at Loyola University in New Orleans, Louisiana, waiting for my turn to teach an orientation class when I realized I couldn’t see the classroom board. I wear glasses, so I thought my prescription had worsened and I needed to update my lenses. Once I got back home, I made an appointment with my eye doctor. She noticed something unexpected and referred me to another specialist, who then referred me to a neurologist. Doctors suspected that I could have multiple sclerosis, and here I started a marathon of tests to find out. I remember very clearly the first time the neurologist brought the topic up; I had been a very healthy person up to that point, and the thought of having a chronic disease that could impact my brain and spinal cord was terrifying. 

During this time, I remember sitting in the kitchen with my loving husband. He looked at me and said gently, “It’s okay to slow down while we figure this out. Let’s take things one step at a time.” I looked at him with tears in my eyes and told him, “I don’t know how to slow down.” The idea was overwhelming. The only way I knew how to be was by moving forward, striving to do more projects, running longer and faster distances, and packing my days with things to do, while taking care of two young children. 

Although my husband was not asking me to be a different person, at the time, it felt that way. I felt so scared about the prospect of having multiple sclerosis that I did not want to consider what my heart really needed in that moment. All I wanted to do was keep moving forward, so I could have some sense of control over my future.

I did not think I had choices, but I was wrong. Individuals always have options to choose their behavior and select a path that supports a more balanced life. However, in order to make choices, we need to see that although we have a history of doing things a certain way, the well-known travel path is not the only way we can be in this world.

After all the tests were done, the neurologist told me that I was fine–I did not have multiple sclerosis. With this positive news, I felt all the worries and concerns that I had held for months slip away, leaving space for nothing but gratitude. However, this experience changed me.”

If this story resonated with you, I invite you to pause and reflect: Where might you be telling yourself there’s only one way forward? What possibilities might appear if you gave yourself permission to travel a different path? What would you need to make a different choice?

And if you are wondering how this experience changed me… well, you will need to wait for the book to find out.

To seeing choices.

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