More Dog Training...

Journal Entry:
The second day of training...

I went back the tech training and tried to have an open mind. It was another hard morning.

My grandfather always said to step back and to take a good look at the things that are going on around you, to scope things out, to try to learn everything about a situation, and then to take action. He said to migrate toward positive open-minded individuals, to watch them, and to learn from what they do. He said to do a lot of listening.

I spent the next hours watching others and tried to learn as much technology as I could from the groups around me. I took notes. By lunch time, I felt that my note-taking was not much help, but I continued to do what my grandfather had suggested years ago. (He was a great man of intellect and wisdom.)

After the second day of training, I sat  down once again and chatted with Mr. Creech. I began to weigh the pros and cons of the situation. I was still very frustrated. Was it time to throw in the towel and call it quits? I knew that I was in over my head from the beginning...but this was a pilot...wasn't a pilot a time to learn, grow and try new things?

Before I left for the day, I voiced those concerns to Mr. Creech. I was prepared to quit. Mr. Creech told me to reflect.

That afternoon,  I went home and reflected. I decided that the knowledge wasn't going to come quick enough. I prepared a written statement to the program leaders and planned to meet with them Friday afternoon.  The last day of training would be completed.

On the way home, I stopped to get gas at a local gas station.The owner knew that I was piloting the program  and asked how things were going. When I responded "very rough", he reassured me that everything would come together because everything I needed would come, and that I would learn it. This gentleman was from Egypt and, through hard work, had overcome obstacles that brought him to America.  

Still, I left the station with lots of doubt.  As I pulled into my driveway, a friend called and asked about the tablet. Her comment to me went something to the effect of ..."You're not giving up, are you?"...
The call ended.

I walked out to get the mail, carried it into the house unopened, and went walking, thinking about my friend, Mrs. Moore, and how Mr. Moore had talked about walking the fence line on their family farm the morning of Mrs. Moore's funeral. Walking the fence line is something my grandfather used to do when he needed to think clearly.  So I got in my car and drove down to the family farm where my grandfather had walked so many times. I walked the fields and the fence lines. I reflected...