How much work is too much work?

They hunt, they eat, they rest. (Image by Helge Wengenroth)

Years ago, I worked with one of my best friends as a contract teacher at a music school.

She taught violin, and I taught piano, guitar, and singing.

The nature of being a contract music teacher is that your schedule and income are shifting frequently. In general, the times directly after school fill up fast and then you get older students coming after dinner. Once you’re pretty well established, you can have a solid schedule with no gaps, from 3:00 PM until 7:00 or even 8:00 PM each weekday, and more on the weekends.

I remember one autumn when my friend’s schedule was beginning to fill up. “Ugh, I keep getting new students. They’ve asked me to work until 7:30 on Wednesdays,” she said wearily.

With the limited teaching time available, coming off of a slow summer, it only made sense to say yes to the work. But in that moment, I realized that we were both caught in a trap. We were trained to be willing to expand our availability indefinitely, teaching as many lessons as possible because there would never be enough.

When the only target you have is “more,” you won’t be able turn down a gig. There will always be pressure to find new opportunities. If you’re resting, you aren’t hustling. There is always the possibility of a big break—and the constant underlying possibility of losing what you have. It’s relentless and exhausting.

Saying the unconditional “yes” to more work turned out to be an extremely difficult habit to break. Even now, it’s hard to let go of the idea that more is better and that the potential for earning is infinite. However, even if it could be, my personal capacity for work is not, and I’m having to be more careful about protecting my energy and time so that I can be effective. I’ve had to give myself permission to limit my hours.

There is always someone I can help. Truth be told, I miss teaching music lessons. I miss working directly with students. If it weren’t for Covid, I would have probably found some way to do these things in my new community. However, the pandemic has not only limited my interactions, it has forced me into a stark clarity. I’ve learned that can’t do more than four hours of meetings in a day, and I can’t concentrate for more than a few hours at my desk on top of that.

In addition, I’m no longer willing to live the way I did earlier in my career, with laundry, dirty dishes, and mail piling up, a dearth of hobbies and exercise, and dinner at 8:00 or 9:00 PM, if at all. Desperately trying to make a living, I taught preschool music classes in the morning and took on as many homeschooled and adult music students as I could during the day in order to transcend the limitations I had previously accepted. It was awful. I’m much happier now, even during Covid, with a manageable schedule and the time to take care of myself and my home.

I’m learning to rest not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. If I set a clear target for my income and working hours, I can then say no to working past that. I may seem obvious to you, but after years of freelancing and uncertainty, it was a practice I had to develop.

My friend the violin teacher is doing well, too. She lives in a little house in the woods out in Washington where she spends a lot of time painting in addition to teaching. The voice that is always asking for more has quieted down. It’s a more peaceful life.

I love my work and so much of it bleeds into “hobby” territory. But I gotta know when to say when. Some days I have more energy than others, and it’s okay for me to play hooky a bit when I need to. After all those years of long days and nights, I’ve earned the right. I bet you have, too.