It is a sweet relief to see your to-do list slowly getting smaller; the things you cross off that list don't regenerate themselves but, for once, stay crossed off, the thick pencil line striking through them with a satisfying finality.  Your desk begins to lose its stack of papers cluttering its surface.  You can safely begin organizing old files--loose papers and ephemera from the beginning of the term--and tucking them away for the summer.

There are still things to do, yes.  Grades to upload and final assignments to review.  But your heart is light, brimming with the promise of summer.  Even your morning tea tastes better, sweeter as if kissed by spring. 

And while many would lament this final week of school--so many odds and ends to keep track of--you find that half the enjoyment of the week is in savoring the sweet anticipation of soon being able to stay up late reading; of being able to take those favored early morning walks; and of being able to focus on nothing more than mastering a new recipe or watching your plants grow.  You look forward to trading in your teacher heels for sandals, buttoned-up uniforms for flouncy dresses. 

It is enough to savor these upcoming pleasures--for now.  Enough to make your workday move swiftly from one final to another.  Enough to know that while you love your job, you are equally looking forward to time away from your desk, time to tend other parts of your life as you loving tend your fledgling plants.  As you file away your last stray worksheet for the day, you realize that under the pile of handouts and papers is a lesson so simple you've almost overlooked it: those breaks are just as important as your hours of work, feeding your soul and replenishing you for the work that you do, for the life you create.  It is the breath that sustains you, the promise of pleasure that uplifts you, the refreshment that inspires innovation.

Yes, your soul needs to breathe and you are ready to let it.