Not long ago, I witnessed something that made me both laugh and wince at the same time.

Daniel, a star technician at one of my client companies, had just been promoted to Business Unit Manager. I’d been consulting with them for years, and everyone knew Daniel was their technical ace. He could fix anything with a wire or a screw. Fast, reliable, brilliant with his hands. When the manager position opened up, everyone agreed: “Daniel deserves this!”

The celebration was brief. New title, bigger office, healthier paycheck — life looked good. For about three months.

Then came the unraveling. Projects started sliding past deadlines. Paperwork multiplied like rabbits. Client complaints landed faster than he could field them. Daniel, who’d always been the calmest person in any room, looked like he was drowning in slow motion.

During yet another tense discussion about a client complaint, Daniel finally cracked. He slammed his hands on the desk and shouted:

“I only have two hands!”

That moment hit me like lightning. Not because Daniel was wrong — he was absolutely right. But because he’d just articulated the trap that catches almost every new manager.

The Identity Crisis Nobody Talks About

Here’s what Daniel didn’t realize: he wasn’t promoted to use his hands anymore. He was promoted to use his head.

This happens more than you’d think. We promote our best doers into managing roles, then watch them burn out trying to do everything themselves. They got promoted because they were exceptional at the work. But nobody told them that management isn’t about doing the work — it’s about creating the conditions for others to do great work.

Think about it: A technician produces results. A manager produces producers of results.

It’s not just a different job. It’s a different identity.

The Ubuntu Moment Every Manager Needs

In Ubuntu philosophy, we say “I am because we are.” Your success isn’t measured by what you accomplish alone, but by what you enable others to accomplish. Daniel was still thinking “I am because I do,” when he needed to shift to “I am because we achieve.”

Instead of lamenting his two hands, Daniel could have been orchestrating twenty hands — or forty, or sixty. But first, he had to let go of the identity that got him promoted in the first place.

The Work We Did Together

After that explosive meeting, the CEO called me in. “Can you help Daniel?” she asked. “We can’t afford to lose him, but this isn’t working.”

That’s when we started what I call Role Clearing — helping Daniel understand not just what his new job required, but who he needed to become to succeed in it. We spent three intensive sessions unpacking his assumptions about value, productivity, and success.

The breakthrough came when Daniel realized he was still measuring himself by his old scorecard. “I keep thinking I’m failing because I’m not fixing things myself,” he admitted. “But that’s not my job anymore, is it?”

Exactly.

Once he understood that he had to stop trying to be the hero with two hands and start being the conductor of an orchestra, everything changed:

Instead of doing, he started: 

• Designing clear workflows that others could execute
• Teaching his team to solve problems without him
• Building systems that run even when he’s not there
• Creating standards that make quality repeatable

Instead of fixing, he started: 

• Asking “Who else could handle this?” 
• Developing others’ problem-solving muscles
• Celebrating when his team succeeds without his direct involvement
• Measuring his value by his team’s growth, not his personal output

The Transformation

Six months later, I ran into Daniel at a coffee shop in the city. I barely recognized him — he looked ten years younger, relaxed, energized.

“You know what changed everything?” he said, grabbing my arm. “That Role Clearing work we did. I finally stopped counting my hands and started counting theirs.”

“The funny thing is,” Daniel continued, “I’m working less but achieving more. When I stopped trying to be the best technician and started being a real manager, everything clicked.”

That’s the turning point. It’s not about having more hands. It’s about recognizing that you already do. They’re just attached to other people’s bodies.

Making the Shift

If you’re feeling like Daniel — overwhelmed, exhausted, shouting about your two hands — here’s your wake-up call:

Your promotion wasn’t a reward for being great at your old job. It was an invitation to master an entirely new game. A game where success looks different, where your tools are different, and where your identity needs to be different.

So next time you catch yourself thinking “I only have two hands,” pause. Take a breath. Look around at all the hands you could be coordinating, developing, and empowering.

Because in the end, great managers don’t work with their hands.

They work with their heads — and through the hands of others.

The question isn’t how much can you do. It’s how much can you enable others to do. That’s the difference between a star performer and a star maker.

Have you made this transition from doer to enabler? What was your “two hands” moment? If you’re struggling with a similar shift, Role Clearing might be exactly what you need. I’d love to hear your story in the comments.