It was the end of the day, and I had just completed my first, full day of in-person training after two years of pandemic living. I was exhausted and worn to my core from the stress and anxiety around the whole thing.
After weeks of careful planning and much coordination with the hotel where the training was to take place, the big day arrived. Our training space was 2/3’s of an extremely large ball room. The room was set up in a classroom style with tables in rows and chairs facing the front. There were 6 foot aisles and 2 people to a table with 4 plus feet of space in between each person. The hotel’s air handling system was on full blast mode, attempting to keep a constant source of fresh and filtered air moving into the room.
My podium was 15 feet from the front row so I could speak and not wear a mask. I also was given a cordless lavalier microphone so the people in the back of the room, some 40 feet away could hear me.
Everyone else, who was participating in the training, needed to wear a mask. Hand sanitizer stations were placed at every door. All involved were suppose clean their hands before entering the room. And everyone was to stand or sit an appropriate distance during large and small group sessions.
As the day progressed, I was trying to teach important leadership and organizational change strategies, and, at the exact same time, cope with my own worries and fears about getting COVID. I also was worried that someone coming to the training might give it to someone else.
So, as the first day came to a close and people headed out, I was running on empty. I had done my best, but it had taken so much energy to manage my own feelings, the teaching material, and the general anxiety of the group. For many participants in the training, this also was their first time to be in a room with non-family members.
As I gathered up my teaching notes, two women came up to the front of the room and one of them said, “Thank-you for having the courage to teach in-person during this stage of the pandemic. It was hard, and yet important that we begin to do in-person things again. I can tell it took a lot out of you, but you did it, and you did it well. We both appreciate your willingness to take the first step.”
I thanked them for their support and understanding. It had taken a lot out of me.
Then, one of the women asked me a question, “Can we pray for you?”
I was stunned, and said “yes.”
She approached me, and given I was much taller than her, I got down on one knee. She put her hand on my shoulder and began to pray. I don’t remember the words she said, just the feeling of deep, unconditional love, support and kindness. My eyes filled up with tears.
When she was done praying, there was a long moment of silence. The three of us just paused and let it all sink in. And then, I thanked them for this gift. It was heart warming and very meaningful for me.
During hard times, we are so focused on getting things done. As a result, we become check list people, marking things off and moving on to the next item on the list. Some days, we do not even recognize we feel drained until it is too late. Burn-out is real and can be inevitable during hard times.
Still, there are people in our lives, at work and at home, who want to support us. They want to appreciate us. But we, as leaders, often think of receiving their support as unprofessional or a sign of weakness.
Furthermore, we do not even make time or space to receive care and support from others. Instead, we define leadership as a one way street, where we do everything for everyone else. In simple terms, we only serve them.
And yet, I have learned and relearned that it is in the receiving that we honor the notion that caring and support is a two way street. We can give as leaders and we can receive. In essence, leadership is a mutual relationship, not a unidirectional relationship.
On that Tuesday afternoon, their prayers made a world of difference. It did not eliminate my physical exhaustion, but it did recharge my heart and soul. It gave me hope and uplifted my spirit. It gave me the strength to keep moving forward.
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