In Australia, we’ve just had a two-week holiday between first term and second term. I found first term really hard. It was long – and by the end, the kids I see each week were REALLY tired. (For those of you who aren’t working with little people, this just doesn’t translate to not-much-learning going on in the classroom, but lots of other dramas – fights in the playground, tears, less regulation of temper in older kids – all stuff we experience when we’re tired, but amplified in the fish-bowl of the classroom.)

I had a number of performances with kids in the term. I had a new choir give their first performance. An Easter play with some fairly complicated music. Lots of singing for performances (and therefore lots of training kids to walk on and off stage). Then there were some really awful things that happened outside of teaching. Curve balls coming at me from a few different directions.

It meant I finished the term totally frazzled. I knew what I needed. Time in the garden. Sleep. Time to sit and drink many cups of tea. Playing the cello. Time in the yoga studio. Walking outdoors. I did all these things.

But here’s something I didn’t know would happen. I had a program to prepare – and it was all slow, reflective music. Slow music isn’t easy to play. It requires really good bow control. Thought about vibrato choices. Very careful attention paid to phrasing. But practising for this concert was completely healing. I felt my soul being pieced back together phrase-by-phrase.

I know the medical benefits of music. I see kids being clamed in the classroom by it. But over the last fortnight, I felt it too. And it was wonderful.

And now I am walking back into school for term two. There’s going to be some big weeks. And I feel ready. Thank you, again, music. Thank you for fixing me. Again.