Mindful Planning | Small Steps to More Ease in Teachers' Everyday Lives

Mindful planning is not a one-time decision, but a continuous process – at least for me. Especially during my first ten years as a classroom teacher, I felt particularly strongly how important it is to plan consciously. How often did I walk into the staff room with my head so full that I no longer knew why I had gone there in the first place?

And how often did I sit at my desk after class with drained batteries, frantically trying to prepare for the next day – even though I should have gone home long ago?

Like so many teachers, I often didn't even allow myself five minutes to go to the toilet. You're running all day, giving your all – and yet the to-do list doesn't get shorter.

It was in such moments that I realised how crucial it is to approach my planning mindfully.

I know that many teachers feel the same way. We do an incredible amount, often beyond our limits. Perhaps you'll find an idea or suggestion in my experiences that can help you with your personal planning and inspire you.

Everyday life under pressure – and how to deal with it

As a teacher, you're never truly "finished." Preparing lessons, supporting children, holding conversations, dealing with administration – all of this often happens simultaneously. The question is not whether everyday life is demanding, but rather: How can we plan in a way that prevents us from getting lost in it?

A change of perspective: "It's important to me" instead of "I have to"

Many tasks feel as if they are externally imposed: I still have to do this, I still have to do that. But when I look honestly, I often realise: These are things I impose on myself. Nobody necessarily demands that I perfectly sort materials or make a worksheet prettier – that's my own standard.

This doesn't mean I have to discard such tasks. On the contrary: If it's important to me, I am allowed to do them. But instead of telling myself: I have to do this, I consciously say: It's important to me or I want to do this.

This small change in language alone relieves so much pressure. Obligation becomes voluntary. And not infrequently, it creates space for joy again. One feels less externally controlled – because one realises that it is one's own decision to invest one's time in something.

A change of perspective: Time instead of tasks

I used to keep to-do lists by collecting everything I "had to get done." The result: constant pressure, because something was always left unfinished.

Today, I plan differently: no longer what absolutely needs to be finished, but how much time I want to invest. Instead of "prepare maths lesson," I write: "invest 30 minutes in the next maths lesson." After this time, I am satisfied because I have achieved my goal – regardless of whether the maths lesson is completely prepared or not.

This relieves the pressure and gives me a feeling of lightness.

Time slots for different areas of life

In the teaching profession, no one takes over the next shift, as is common in other professions. What we don't finish simply remains undone. Many teachers therefore constantly carry their duties with them in their minds, even in their free time.

That's why it's so important not only to plan working hours but also to consciously schedule time slots that are clearly separated from each other.

In the past, a small ritual helped me: Before leaving school, I literally said goodbye to my desk – "It was nice with you today, we'll see each other again tomorrow" – and consciously left the documents there. This allowed me to mentally switch off.

Today, as an educational material author, my workplace is also at home – sometimes at my desk, sometimes at the kitchen table, and sometimes even on the sofa. Precisely because leisure and work take place in the same rooms, I need a clear structure. I therefore set fixed time slots: Some I dedicate exclusively to school, others to household chores or my projects as an educational material author. And then there are times that are consciously reserved for shared moments with my husband and my poodle Dolly – or simply for myself.

It helps to consciously let go of the to-dos that remain open. For example, after a school time slot, I put my teacher's planner on the shelf and wish it a good time – until I next turn my attention to school matters. Instead of continuing to think about open tasks, I lovingly direct my energy to the next time slot and fully engage with it.

These clear boundaries help me not to constantly juggle the many duties from different areas of life in my head – and they free up my mind.

To-do list with heart

Teachers are champions at writing to-do lists. But what are to-dos actually? Things that should be done. And honestly: What was on your last list? How many of those points were for others – and how many were just for you?

This is exactly where a blind spot lies. If "to-do" means "something that should be done," then it should be just as natural to write down things that are good for us.

That's why I started adding heart symbols to my lists. After three classic to-dos, a heart follows – as a reminder to also plan something nice for myself.

This could be:

• a cup of coffee in peace,
• a short walk,
• a conversation with a dear friend,
• a few minutes reading your favourite book.

Such moments are not incidental. They are a to-do for your own soul – and they belong just as firmly in our everyday lives as any obligatory task.

Consciously using the weekly planner

A weekly planner can be more than just an overview of appointments. I sometimes use it as a mindfulness log:

• I note down things that brought me joy,
• I record what I took time for,
• or I write down what I'm proud of.

This shifts my focus away from "not yet achieved" to what has already been accomplished.

A moment for myself – starting the month consciously

Before a new month begins, I take a small moment just for myself. I make a cup of tea, sit down comfortably, and pick out some nice stickers. Then I enjoy writing in my journal what is important to me this month.

And not tasks that are imposed on me from outside, but things that I consciously choose myself. This includes professional goals that I would like to pursue and that bring me joy – as well as personal moments that I want to treat myself or my loved ones to.

Because often we feel that we have too little time for ourselves, without actively asking ourselves: What would I actually do if I had more time? I try to answer this question honestly every month.

Mindful planning remains a process

All these ideas are no guarantee that everyday life will suddenly become easy. Even those who are used to planning mindfully will repeatedly experience moments when their own principles are lost sight of. The same happens to me.

But that's part of it: Mindful planning is not a one-time decision, but a continuous process. It means pausing again and again, looking honestly, and resetting the course. Not with reproaches, but with patience and kindness towards oneself.

In conclusion

Perhaps there was a thought while reading that you already knew – or a new impulse that you would like to take into your everyday life. I hope this contribution could spark something that inspires you.

Because as I said at the beginning: Mindful planning is not a one-time decision, but a process. It's not about implementing everything perfectly, but about taking small steps again and again, pausing, and choosing a new direction.

I wish you that you can approach your own process with joy and patience – and that more lightness and moments of happiness may enter your professional and personal life. 🌿