Episode Summary

In this episode, I step away from my normal format and simply talk about where I am right now. After more than 300 episodes, multiple podcast series, book ideas, websites, teaching, and constantly creating, I’ve reached a point where I’m mentally and physically exhausted and realizing that something has to give.

I share some of what my family has been carrying, including my brother’s recent hospitalizations, concerns about my dad’s health, and the emotional weight of returning to the same hospital floor where my mom died in 2024. At the same time, I’m trying to be present as a husband, a dad to three kids at very different stages of life, and a teacher beginning another school year.

I reflect on something my grief therapist told me: something has to give right now—not everything and not forever, but something. I’m beginning to understand that putting something down is not the same as quitting it. I still love Be a Funky Teacher, Saturday Stories, Sunday School for Teachers, the Teachers Are Not Broken series, and the projects I want to create, but they do not all have to happen right now.

I don’t know exactly what comes next, and I’m giving myself permission not to know. I want to spend a little less time producing my life and a little more time living it—being a husband, dad, brother, son, teacher, and simply myself. This isn’t goodbye. It’s me creating some space and trusting that when I’m ready to sit behind the microphone again, I will.

Show Notes

• Why I’m stepping back from a publishing schedule
• Reaching more than 300 podcast episodes
• Family health challenges and emotional exhaustion
• Returning to the hospital where my mom died
• Being present for my wife and children
• The difference between quitting and putting something down
• Giving myself permission not to know what comes next
• Spending less time producing life and more time living it

Key Takeaways

• Exhaustion does not always mean something is broken.
• Something important can be put down temporarily without being abandoned.
• Grief can return unexpectedly through places, memories, and experiences.
• Constant creativity and productivity can eventually become another obligation.
• Family seasons and time with the people we love do not last forever.
• Sustainability sometimes requires refusing to create another schedule.
• It is okay to say, “I don’t know what comes next.”

This is Mr. Funky Teacher with BeAFunkyTeacher.com.

I'm coming to you with another Be a Funky Teacher podcast, but this episode is going to be a little different.

I don't have a set of big ideas today.

I don't have a lesson I'm trying to teach.

I don't have everything neatly organized.

I really just want to talk to you for a few minutes.

And I guess the simplest way to say it is:

I'm exhausted.

I'm mentally exhausted.

I'm physically exhausted.

And I think I've reached the point where I need to listen to that.

I think I need to take a step back for a little while.

I've been pushing pretty hard for a long time.

I recently celebrated more than 300 episodes of the Be a Funky Teacher podcast, and I'm proud of that.

I've been working through the Teachers Are Not Broken series.

I've been doing Saturday Stories.

I've been doing Sunday School for Teachers.

I've been developing other podcast projects.

I've been thinking about and working on taking my episodes, my transcripts from the other series that I've done over those 300-plus episodes, and developing those into books.

Putting them together.

Organizing them.

Developing them into several books, actually.

I've been working on my websites around teaching.

Developing resources for teachers.

Working in my classroom.

Focusing on my students.

And even throughout the summer, I don't think I ever really stopped.

I kept creating.

I kept planning.

I kept recording.

I kept thinking about what was next.

And normally, I love that.

Creating is part of who I am.

Podcasting has actually become therapeutic for me in a lot of ways.

I love sitting behind this microphone.

I love thinking about education.

I love trying to encourage teachers.

I love trying to inspire greatness in young people and in the people who teach them.

I don't want to lose any of that.

But life outside this microphone has gotten really heavy.

My family has been carrying a lot.

My brother has become increasingly medically fragile over the past year.

Those of you who have listened for a while know that I have an older brother, Tim.

He's mentally and physically disabled.

Growing up with my brother... I love him to pieces.

He spent eight days in the hospital in July and then another six days in the hospital in August.

Recently, our family even had a palliative care meeting about him.

My dad's a guardian for him.

I'm a guardian for him.

And he's out of the hospital now.

He's doing a lot better than he was, and I'm incredibly grateful for that.

But I worry about him.

I worry about him constantly.

And I've been trying to help my dad through all of this too.

When my brother was in the hospital, my dad really didn't want to leave him alone.

So I'd go up in the evenings and sit with my brother so my dad could finally go home and get a break.

Change clothes.

Get cleaned up.

Take a shower.

And I'm worried about my dad too.

He's getting older.

There are things I'm noticing that concern me around his health.

So there's been a lot there.

But there was another layer to this last hospitalization that made it harder than I expected.

Literally down the hallway from where my dad and I sat with my mom in the ICU, holding her hands, and were with her when she took her last breath.

So every time I went back to that floor to be with my brother during this last hospitalization, there were memories there too.

I don't think I completely understood at first how much that was affecting me.

I was worried about my brother.

I was worried about my dad.

But I was also walking back into a place connected to one of the hardest experiences of my life.

Not just one of the hardest experiences of my life.

My mom passing away was the worst day of my life.

And grief...

Grief really is a strange thing that way.

Sometimes you think you've learned how to carry it.

And then a place...

A hallway...

A room...

A moment...

Can bring part of it right back.

And I think that's been part of the exhaustion too.

Life hasn't stopped around it.

Because at the same time, I'm a husband.

I'm a dad.

I've got three kids at three different stages of their lives right now.

My daughter is a senior, and we're navigating her senior year, thinking about college and everything that comes with this transition.

I've got a son in 10th grade who's right in the middle of his high school years.

And I've got another son in fifth grade going through a pretty important year of his own.

They are growing up.

I don't want to be so busy producing things, planning the next project, or checking something else off my list that I look back and realize I wasn't as present for this season of their lives as I wanted to be.

These years aren't coming back.

I want to be there for them.

I want to be there for my wife.

And I've started another school year.

I want to give my students the teacher they deserve this year.

I still love teaching.

I still love walking into that classroom.

But somewhere in the middle of everything else, I continued telling myself:

"Hey, I've got another podcast to record."

"I've got Saturday Stories."

"I've got Sunday School for Teachers."

"I've got the next weekday episode to plan and record."

"I've got another podcast project."

"I've got books I want to work on."

"I've got a website I want to improve."

"I've got resources I want to create."

I've got this...

And this...

And another idea...

And another idea...

And another thing I want to do.

And eventually, something has to give.

Especially when you throw in the health challenges right now that my brother is facing and some of the health challenges with my dad.

Something has to give.

I've been talking through some of this with my therapist.

I've seen a grief therapist since my mom passed away.

Months after my mom passed away, I started seeing a grief therapist.

And I was talking through this with her, and she said something to me that I've really been sitting with.

She said:

"Something has to give right now."

Not everything.

Not forever.

But something.

And I think she's right.

That's hard for me because I'm somebody who likes doing things.

I like creating.

I like getting up early.

I can't even believe I'm saying that.

I like getting up early to plan these episodes.

To record these episodes.

I like working.

I like having projects.

I like thinking about what's next.

And I don't want to give these things up.

That's probably part of why this is difficult.

I don't want to quit Be a Funky Teacher.

I don't want to quit Saturday Stories.

I don't want to quit Sunday School for Teachers.

I don't want to give up these daily episodes right now.

I don't want to abandon the other things I've been creating.

But maybe there's a really important difference between quitting something and putting something down for a little while.

And right now, I think I need to put some things down.

Teachers Are Not Broken.

There's some irony in where I've reached this point.

I've been working through this series called Teachers Are Not Broken.

And right now, if I'm being real with you, there are moments when I kind of feel broken.

But maybe that's actually part of what I've been trying to say throughout this entire series that I've been developing.

I don't think I'm broken.

I think I'm tired.

Really tired.

And those aren't the same thing.

I've been carrying a lot.

My family has been carrying a lot.

And I've been trying to start another school year strong while worrying about people I love.

Wow.

This is tough, y'all.

Funky teachers, this is a tough episode for me.

I've been trying to maintain a creative schedule that probably made sense during another season of my life.

But does it make sense for me right now?

Maybe acknowledging that isn't weakness, y'all.

Maybe it's listening to what my mind and my body have been trying to tell me.

Because I've said this to teachers.

I've talked on this very podcast about sustainability.

I've talked about boundaries.

I've talked about how teachers cannot continually pour from themselves without eventually needing an opportunity to refill.

Maybe I need to listen to some of my own words right now.

So what happens next?

Here's where I wish I could give you a really clear answer.

I can't.

I don't know.

And I'm going to let myself say that:

I don't know.

I don't know if Be a Funky Teacher eventually becomes a weekly episode for a while.

I don't know if occasionally I just turn on the microphone and give you a five-minute check-in.

I don't know if I take a complete break.

I don't know when the next Saturday Story will come out.

I don't know when the next Sunday School for Teachers will come out.

I don't know when I'm going to continue the Teachers Are Not Broken series that I've been working on.

I know exactly where I stopped.

I know it's sitting there waiting for me.

And I really do want to continue it.

But right now, I'm giving myself permission not to know when I'm going to pick it back up.

Maybe you'll hear from me soon.

Maybe it'll be a while.

Maybe I'll have something on my heart one morning and I'll sit down behind this microphone and talk.

But I'm not creating another schedule right now.

Because if I tell myself:

"Okay, now I only have to podcast once a week."

I've just created another deadline.

And I don't think I need another deadline.

I'm not going to tell myself I need a special episode because a particular date comes around.

I'm not going to turn my birthday or another meaningful day into another publishing obligation.

I think I need some space.

What do I want to do with that space?

I want to teach.

I want to walk into my classroom and be present with my students.

I want to get up early sometimes.

I actually enjoy that quiet time.

But I don't necessarily need to fill every morning with another podcast.

I want to be there for my brother.

I want to be there for my dad and be able to support them with their medical challenges right now.

I want to be there for my wife.

I want to be there for all three of my kids.

I want to explore.

I want to explore the outdoors and enjoy the outdoors too.

I want to experience my daughter's senior year.

I want to be present for my 10th grader's high school years.

I want to experience fifth grade with my youngest.

These years with my kids aren't coming back.

I don't want to experience them while constantly thinking about the next thing I need to produce.

Especially when you bring in the medical challenges of my brother and my dad.

I want to get outside.

I want to paddle.

I want to exercise.

I want to travel.

I want to look through some of the pictures I've taken and actually enjoy the life represented in them instead of feeling like organizing them is another job that I'm behind on.

Maybe I'll mess around with my website when I want to.

Maybe I'll create something because I want to create it rather than because the calendar says I need another episode.

And maybe I need to spend a little less time producing my life and a little more time living it.

Especially with where things are at right now health-wise for those family members.

I think I just need some room for that at the immediate moment.

Maybe someone else needs to hear this too.

I didn't sit down today intending to teach a lesson.

I didn't even sit down today thinking that I was going to record this episode.

I really didn't.

But maybe there's another teacher listening who's carrying too much too.

Maybe there's another parent.

Another caretaker.

Another person who keeps telling themselves:

"I can handle one more thing."

And then another.

And another.

And another.

Until eventually, you don't even know which thing you're supposed to put down.

Maybe you are not broken.

Maybe you are carrying more than you have the capacity to carry right now.

And maybe something has to give.

Not forever.

Not because you have failed.

Not because the thing you're putting down doesn't matter.

That's something that I'm starting to understand.

Something can matter deeply and still need to be put down for a while.

Two things can be true.

Those two things can both be true.

Before I close this episode, I want to do something that has been part of so many of these episodes.

I want to ground myself in gratitude.

Even today.

Especially today.

The first thing I'm thankful for is you, my fellow funky teachers.

I'm thankful for every one of you who has listened.

Whether you've been here for hundreds of episodes or you just found this podcast recently.

I'm thankful that you're here.

And I hope that you don't hear what I've shared today and think I'm abandoning you.

I'm not.

I'm not walking away from this community.

I'm not walking away from the mission behind Be a Funky Teacher.

I still believe deeply in teachers.

I still want to encourage you.

I still want to advocate for you.

I still want to remind you of the incredible difference you make in the lives of young people.

I just need to give myself a little space right now.

And I'm thankful that you've given me a place where I can be honest enough to tell you that.

The second thing that I'm thankful for is God, who has never let me go.

My faith is an incredibly important part of who I am.

And I'm thankful for a God who has held me through some wonderful seasons of my life and through some really trying and challenging ones too.

There have been moments when I felt strong.

There have been moments when I've felt completely exhausted.

There have been moments of tremendous joy.

And there have been moments of grief.

But through all of those seasons, I believe God has been there.

He hasn't let me go.

He hasn't.

And right now, when I don't have everything figured out, I'm thankful I don't have to.

I'm thankful I can trust Him with some of what I can't carry by myself.

The third thing that I'm thankful for is my family.

I'm thankful for my wife.

I'm thankful for my three kids.

I'm thankful for my brother.

I'm thankful for my dad.

And I'm thankful for the time I had with my mom.

Family can be one of our greatest sources of joy.

And sometimes one of the places where our hearts carry the most.

Right now, I'm being reminded just how precious time is.

My kids are growing up.

My dad is getting older.

My brother needs us.

And losing my mom taught me in a very real way that none of us gets unlimited time with the people we love.

So I'm thankful for my family.

I'm thankful for the ordinary moments.

Maybe part of taking this step back is giving myself more room to actually be present for those moments while I have them.

So that's where I'm at.

There's no big announcement about exactly what's next.

There's no new publishing schedule.

And maybe that's exactly what I need right now.

In more than 300 episodes, I've given myself permission to take a little room.

Be a Funky Teacher isn't disappearing.

I'm not abandoning my fellow funky teachers.

There are stories I still want to tell.

There are conversations about education I still want to have.

I want to finish the series that I started around Teachers Are Not Broken.

Saturday Stories still matter to me.

Sunday School for Teachers matters deeply to me.

There are books I want to write.

There are projects I want to build.

There are ideas that I'm still incredibly excited about.

But I'm beginning to understand something.

They don't all have to happen right now.

And I don't have to decide today when they're going to happen.

Maybe you'll hear from me next week.

Maybe you won't.

Maybe one morning I'll have something I really need to say.

I'll turn on this microphone and we'll have a conversation.

I don't know.

And I'm trying to become okay with those three words:

I don't know.

Because right now, I need to spend a little less time producing my life and a little more time living it.

Being a husband.

Being a dad.

Being a brother.

Being a son.

Being a teacher.

Getting outside.

Paddling.

Moving my body.

Laughing.

Taking pictures.

And maybe actually looking at some of them.

Being quiet sometimes.

Being present.

And just being me.

And if you've been listening to these 300-plus episodes...

Thank you.

Really.

Thank you for listening.

Thank you for allowing me to think out loud and process and share.

Thank you for allowing me to truly share what I believe about this incredible profession.

Thank you for being part of this funky little community we've built together.

And thank you for giving me the space to say:

"I need a little time."

I'm going to try to give myself that space too.

This isn't goodbye.

It's just...

I'll talk to you when I'm ready.

Until then, take care of yourself.

Remember to inspire greatness in young people.

And don't forget to be a funky teacher.

Bye now.