train·​ing

I didn't realize how difficult it is for me to give up control. How do I like creating and administering instructional content and fielding endless questions, but I cannot stand waiting on people when they can't figure something out?

Is it an impatience thing? I just have so little patience for people sitting there & processing internally. Try it now or let me do it. Act fast or give me control. I haven't the attention span to stare at your unmoving shared screen. Is it an efficiency thing? I hate the idea of wasting time, especially in a season of work where I feel so busy and overstretched. I have the daily sensation of being a pat of butter spread onto piping hot bread, melting quickly and being spread thin in a messy, uncontrollable time-lapse. Is it a fear thing? I'm scared that any incompetence on my trainee's end must reflect poorly on me as a trainer. Their failures and subsequent negative effects, which may very well domino throughout the company down to the customers and up to the "We're in the Bay Area" headquarters, feel like my direct responsibility.

In response to my ardent ventilation about work to my therapist a few weeks ago, I was encouraged to judge my input more than my output. I can only pass judgement the work I've done myself - I cannot judge myself for what others do with that work or for the final outcome of a collaborative project. Put the work in and hope it pays off. This sentiment was echoed by the episode of Ted Lasso I watched that same night, wherein Ted mentioned to his son that soccer coaching is like parenting - you can only train and encourage your team off the field. What they do once they're released in the mossy wilderness is fully out of your hands. Children may turn out to be successful doctors or actors or entrepreneurs, or they may stumble out the door, slip down the cobblestone steps into a passing wheelbarrow of wood shavings and water balloons, and decide to pursue a career in experimental laser art. They could be a challenge or a challenger; they could pick up your instructions on the first pass or never encode them at all. Regardless, you can only do what you know to do: teach them what you know, hold them up, and love them well. The same applies to any teacher - preparation can be done, guidance can be given, and corrections can be made. Ultimately, the doer bears the responsibility for what's done, and the only right thing to do is try your best. My dad used to use this as a pre-exam encouragement and passed it onto us kids as a general affirmation, which makes it both nostalgic and "a little -stitious":

"The horse is made ready for the day of battle, but the victory belongs to the Lord." - Proverbs 21:31