Micromanaging The Impossible

We all know people guilty of micromanaging others. They can’t seem to step back and let others do their jobs without endless interference. And it never fails that these same people are completely unqualified to supervise anyone. They undermine those they wish to manage offending them in the process. And their self-righteous attitude prevents them from stopping their ridiculous and destructive behavior.

It’s interesting to sit back and watch these busybodies in action. I’ve watched various miscreants over the years try to micromanage my husband to no avail. It’s funny, really, to watch as they try to micromanage everything he does when he’s typically a hundred steps beyond them. My mother made several attempts to supervise him during the early years of our marriage and he would just smile and go on about his business. She asked him to fix her coffee pot one time, sure that it was broken, and went a little nuts when he began running cleaner through it. She stopped when he handed her a cup of coffee. She never doubted him again and depended on him until the day she passed.

That’s the thing about my husband. I think he was born knowing how to do just about everything. Our youngest son is like him in some ways, our oldest in others, but they grew up watching their dad accomplish anything he set out to do. He drew the line at re-roofing our house which I found shocking. It was the first time he told me he didn’t want to do something. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but I hired a roofer anyway who didn’t do the job the way we asked. Jerry would have done better.

Our last business was an independent motorcycle shop where he was the only mechanic. He worked on Harleys and many of our customers would have no one else touch their bikes. They trusted him that much. He’s honest and forthright and has a work ethic and standard of excellence par none.

Jerry pulls rabbits out of hats and works miracles that no one else can, clearly an old soul who brings forth everything from his own Akash. He’s gifted beyond measure and that’s why it’s so stunning when someone wants to micromanage him. He’s in his element when he’s figuring things out on the fly, a true mechanic, and not just a technician. I had that conversation one time with another mechanic about the difference between a mechanic and a technician. It was his belief that mechanics drew from an awareness that mere technicians didn’t have. I don’t know if that’s really true, but I do remember other techs in the business who couldn’t problem-solve their way out of a wet paper bag, so maybe he was on to something.

And then there’s the fact that my husband has a Black Belt in Kenpo. I know what he knows because I trained with him when we opened our dojo. I was the only student in all the years we had the school to earn a Black Belt from him. He was tough and required a comittment from students that many just couldn’t achieve. In other words, he expected students to attend class and to actually practice their skills at home. We trained in Ed Parker’s Kenpo and Jerry tested for and was awarded his first Black Belt by Mr. Parker himself. During the seminar that followed the testing, Mr. Parker demonstrated on Jerry which thrilled my husband to no end, and told all of us at dinner that it had been a while since he had seen someone with Jerry’s motion and dedication. And then said that he’d be proud to have Jerry stand with him in the street.

Well now. For a 10th Degree GrandMaster to say something like this about my husband brought tears to my eyes. Mr. Parker passed a few years later but I remember many conversations with him over the time I knew him and he didn’t hand out this sort of praise unless it was deserved. But it was true. And Jerry was speechless when Mr. Parker said it.

And when I was so ill with rheumatoid arthritis, he not only worked overtime at our business but also took care of me when I could barely move. He kept the house clean and cooked our food and ran all over the grocery stores bringing back food to the cart when I couldn’t walk well. He’d park me in the produce department and I’d wait for him there. My disease was severe and when I gave up all hope of surviving it I became a cannabis patient and he grew my plants for me. He helped me process harvested cannabis into my medicine that would ultimately save my life and bring me into clinical remission. He did that.

Micromanagers embark on an impossible task when they try to supervise or otherwise control my husband. It’s an exercise in futility and they would do well to stop before he actually puts them in their place. Because he will. And when he does, it’s a glorious sight to behold because he’ll respond with kindness and patience and set boundaries they can never step beyond.

It’s called parenting. And the best part? They never see it coming.

I’ve known this man for over thirty-nine years and we’ve been married for thirty-eight. To treat him with anything less than complete respect is short-sighted, particularly when he’s tasked with saving someone’s ass and does so without any assistance. So instead of telling him what to do, how about just saying, thank you.