Spoon Theory for Teachers: A Mindful Guide to Protecting Your Energy

LIZ BARTLETT
Sep 12, 2025
6 min read

Updated: Nov 17, 2025

Minimalist Zen garden with smooth stones and raked sand circles, symbolising mindful energy and the Spoon Theory. — Like stones in sand, our energy leaves ripples. The Spoon Theory reminds us to spend gently.

Spoon Theory for Teachers

There’s a quiet kind of tiredness that many teachers carry.

It’s not always visible. It often isn’t talked about in staff meetings or professional development sessions. But it shows up in small, weary sighs. In the forgotten coffee gone cold on your desk. In the moments when your patience feels thin, your joy feels dulled, and your energy feels like it’s slipping through your fingers—before the first bell has even rung.

If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. And you’re not broken.

You might simply be running low on spoons.

The Spoon Theory for teachers offers a simple yet powerful way to understand our daily energy limits and protect our well-being in the classroom.

What Is the Spoon Theory?

The Spoon Theory is a metaphor created by Christine Miserandino, who lives with chronic illness. One evening, while trying to explain to a friend what it felt like to navigate daily life with lupus, she grabbed a handful of spoons from a nearby table. Each spoon became a symbol of a unit of energy. She explained that people with chronic conditions often start the day with a limited number of spoons—far fewer than the average person—and that every action throughout the day costs a spoon.

Getting out of bed? That’s one. Preparing breakfast? Another. A shower, commuting, dealing with loud environments, emotionally charged interactions, decisions, expectations, noise… spoon, spoon, spoon.

Once your spoons are gone, they’re gone. You can’t function the same way. You can borrow spoons from tomorrow, but the interest is high—it often looks like burnout, shutdown, or illness.

While it began as a way to describe chronic illness, the Spoon Theory has since resonated with anyone managing invisible energy limits: teachers, parents, carers, neurodivergent individuals, trauma survivors, and anyone recovering from burnout.

The Spoon Theory for teachers gives language to something so many of us have felt but didn’t know how to express. It is a simple way to describe how our daily energy is spent in the classroom.

“I’m not lazy. I’m not disorganised. I’m just out of spoons.”

How Spoon Theory Supports Mindful Teaching Energy

Teaching is a deeply human profession. It’s relational, emotionally charged, and often relentless. You hold space for thirty small hearts and minds, often while juggling shifting expectations, growing paperwork, and the complex demands of school culture.

For mindful, introverted, neurodivergent, or highly sensitive teachers, the energy output can feel magnified. Every decision, every conversation, every lesson carries an invisible cost. And unlike physical energy, this emotional and mental depletion often isn’t restored by a single night of sleep or a cup of coffee. By embracing the Spoon Theory for teachers, we can see teaching not as a test of endurance, but as a practice of energy awareness.

"Mindful teaching energy isn’t about doing less—it’s about doing what matters most."

Protecting Teacher Well-Being with Gentle Boundaries

Here’s how Spoon Theory can gently guide us toward a more sustainable way of teaching:

1. It Helps Us Recognise the Invisible Cost of Our Days

Some tasks obviously require energy—writing reports, supervising lunch duty, dealing with conflict. But others quietly drain us in ways we may not notice: navigating unspoken expectations, masking in meetings, absorbing the emotions of others, or simply being "on" all day long.

Spoon Theory invites us to pause and consider: What’s actually using up my energy?

Is it the noise level in your open-plan classroom? The emotional weight of supporting a student in distress? The internal dialogue you carry after a parent complaint?

These may not show up on your timetable—but they still cost spoons.

2. It Normalises Saying No

One of the most powerful gifts of the Spoon Theory is the permission it gives to set gentle boundaries. When you acknowledge that your energy is finite, “no” becomes not a rejection, but an act of wisdom.

You don’t need to offer a long explanation. You don’t need to overextend yourself just to avoid disappointing others.

“I don’t have the spoons for that right now” is enough.

Boundaries like these aren’t selfish—they’re the foundation of sustainable teaching. They allow you to continue showing up with presence and care rather than pushing through on empty. Protecting teacher well-being often begins with the smallest no—the kind that preserves your presence for what truly matters.

3. It Encourages Thoughtful Planning

When you know you only have so many spoons in a day, you start to plan with presence rather than pressure. You begin to ask different questions:

What is essential today?
What can I simplify or let go of?
Where can I create moments of calm for myself and my students?

This isn’t about doing less for the sake of it. It’s about doing what matters—with intention, with clarity, and with your energy in mind. This is what mindful teaching energy looks like—choosing what matters most and letting go of what drains us.

Maybe that looks like reusing a well-loved lesson instead of reinventing the wheel. Or taking five quiet minutes while your class reads independently. Or choosing a calming transition instead of rushing from one activity to the next.

These small shifts can help preserve your spoons, allowing you to teach from a place of grounded presence.

4. It Builds Empathy and Connection

When you start thinking in spoons, you begin to notice the energy patterns of others, too. The colleague who seems withdrawn may not be unfriendly—they might just be out of spoons. The student who’s disengaged might not be lazy—they may be overwhelmed, overstimulated, or simply tired from life outside the classroom.

This lens invites compassion.

It reminds us that we are all doing our best with the spoons we have.

As a mindful teacher, this perspective can ripple through your classroom culture. It allows you to create a learning environment that honours both capacity and care—a space where rest is not a reward, but a right. Where empathy is built not through performance, but through presence.

What Costs a Spoon in Teaching?

Every teacher is different, but here are some common spoon-draining experiences many of us share:

Constant noise or sensory overload
Staffroom politics or passive-aggressive comments
Uninterrupted supervision duties
Long meetings with no clear outcome
Emotional labour (supporting students in distress, regulating your own emotions)
Unrealistic expectations or constantly changing directives
Feeling like you must always be “on”

The more we identify our energy leaks, the more intentionally we can protect what’s left. Each of these invisible drains is a reminder of why protecting teacher well-being must come first.

What Can Refill a Spoon?

While spoons do run out, they can also be replenished—slowly, gently, and deliberately.

A walk in fresh air
A moment of stillness before the school day begins
Music, poetry, or nature in the classroom
One kind comment from a student or colleague
Journalling during your break
Restorative movement, like yoga or stretching
Leaving school on time without guilt
A weekend with boundaries, unplugged from school emails

Even five mindful minutes can make a difference. Small rituals like journaling or pausing with a cup of tea can restore mindful teaching energy throughout the day.

A Gentle Daily Practice

Each morning, take a quiet moment to ask yourself:

How many spoons do I have today?
What’s already on my plate?
What can I soften, simplify, or delay?
What one practice today might support mindful teaching energy and refill a spoon?

You don’t need to be superhuman. You just need to be honest with yourself.

"Teaching from a place of “enough” is not only possible—it’s powerful."

Final Thoughts

The Spoon Theory for teachers reminds us that presence matters more than productivity. That teaching is not a test of endurance. That your energy matters just as much as your output.

There will always be more you could do. But the real question is: What can you do with the spoons you have—while still preserving the self that brings your teaching to life?

You don’t need to run on empty to be a good teacher. You don’t need to prove your worth through exhaustion. You are allowed to teach gently. Quietly. Mindfully.

From a place of clarity. From a place of care.

And from exactly the number of spoons you hold in your hands today.

Teaching gently is not indulgence—it’s protecting teacher well-being, which sustains everything else.