Clarity & Sense-Making
What’s over, what isn’t
Yesterday, we named loss.
That changed how your body felt by the end of the day.
A little more breath.
A little less pressure behind the eyes.
A quiet “oh… that’s what this is.”
Grief without orientation turns to fog.
December’s foggy enough.
Here’s what I see teachers doing this time of year:
working incredibly hard to not tell the truth clearly.
Softening, hedging, saying, “basically the same” or “we’ll see” or “nothing’s really changing.”
It feels kind, even humane, but it isn’t relieving.
You think clarity’ll make things worse.
But actually—it steadies us.
Fuzzy endings don’t protect our nervous system.
Clear endings do.
When people don’t know what’s over, they stay braced.
When they don’t know what continues, they keep scanning for danger.
Ambiguity doesn’t keep hope alive—it keeps anxiety awake.
This is the cognitive work of endings.
Not control.
Orientation.
So today’s questions aren’t about being firmer.
They’re about being truer.
What’s over, what isn’t?
Let these questions slow you down. Let them land.
Am I giving myself accurate information—and doing it again and again?
Have I defined clearly what is over and what isn’t?
Have I made it clear how this ending protects the continuity of what matters—learning, relationships, or the conditions that make my teaching work?
Notice what happens when you imagine saying these things plainly.
Did your jaw loosen?
Did your shoulders drop?
Did your breath deepen?
That’s not weakness.
That’s relief.
🧠 Teacher translation:
This is where you stop pretending everything is “basically the same” and instead offer yourself something better—truth.
Clear endings reduce anxiety.
Fuzzy endings prolong it.
Here’s the micro-shift that matters most:
Clarity’s not cruelty.
It’s kindness refusing to abandon people to confusion.
When you say, “This chapter is finished,” you give permission to exhale.
When you say, “This part continues,” you give a solid handle to hold onto.
And yes—this applies to you too.
What is over for you after this semester?
What no longer needs your energy?
What’s allowed to rest?
What isn’t over?
What carries forward intact, even if it looks different?
You don’t need a script.
You don’t need to announce anything dramatically.
Just tell the truth clearly.
Then tell it again.
Tomorrow, we’ll move into the final question set— ritual, honor, and continuity, helping our endings feel complete instead of abrupt.
But today?
Today is about steadiness.
About replacing fog with landmarks.
About letting clarity do what it does best.
Calm the room.
And calm you.