Willig was a superstar today (me, not so much)

In today's jump lesson, Willig did a few really cool things:
He took the lead and took care of the jumps, without me helping, and with me, frankly, in some places hindering.
He jumped a training level height fence. More than once. Probably he kept his eyes open.
He jumped a new "scary" fence without running out the first time at it.
What were the take aways?
I've become a complete and utter chicken. I barely peeped out one or two clucks at him, and my "aggressive" riding towards the fence was one or two pitiful leg twitches. My whip never moved. My mouth never opened.
Long version:
It was cold out. 20 maybe in the morning. I tried to get to the barn in time to lunge Willig, but like usual, ran out of time, so Shannon gave me a few extra minutes to finish lunging and warm him up. Despite being ridden twice yesterday (jumping with J, going over a piece of garland on a trot pole with me), and being lunged, once I got on him he wanted to shy at the bundle of jump pieces.
So we started with that. Leg yield past it. If he tries to look, ok to use my hand to bend him to the inside (and then release), and if he's a goof, make a small circle and go past it again.
Then Shannon set up two jumps on a circle - roughly 3:00 and 9:00, but angled on the circle instead of perpendicular to the walls. At first, it was a little cross rail with a couple of cones under it and a little vertical. Next it became a little vertical with the cones and a vertical with some small white poles angled, to kind of make a steeplechase, only not really anything like a steeplechase (I can't think of how else to describe it).
Shannon's message was: RIDE him to it and over it, which we did. Remarkably. (Remarkable that we did it, not remarkably well.)
Then we switched directions (and she switched the sides) and he did it again.
Then she made the cone fence taller, and he did just fine.
Then she made the cone fence enormous - training level height which is about the belts on your waist if you wear them like an old person (it looked like - well, frankly, it looked like the top of my car, even from tall Willig's back).
I did NOT want to do this fence, mostly because Willig, when he feels overmatched, will run out, quickly, and/or buck. Which is what he did the first time at it - ran out, tried to buck, but we ran into the corner. Not his worst behavior, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to rattle me.
And so Shannon had us do it again. And he did it, gorgeously. I mean, when he jumps, he is fantastic. It is so easy to stay centered over him and we just FLOAT in the air. It's fabulous.
Only when we landed, I started to cry. Huge, sobbing, like a little kid crying. It was horrifyingly embarrassing.
And then Shannon told us to do it again and I ... couldn't.
So the next few times took a lot of extra laps, mostly because my left hand (the outside hand) was like "hell no we're not doing that again" and would, apparently, take us in a circle to the left (the jump was to the right). Like so much of its own volition, that I was sure Willig was doing it, despite Shannon (and the other rider) telling me they could see ME doing it.
But he did it. Gorgeous both times. The last time he came in a bit short, but managed to get over it pretty gracefully notwithstanding, and thank god Shannon didn't make us do it again.
I haven't ever ridden another horse that jumps like him. When there's actually a bit of height to the fence, he swells up underneath me - kind of like a wave - it's like those rare moments when we hit everything just right in the sitting trot and he collects and he's got impulsion from behind, and the sky opens up and angels sing and it's just ... amazing.
But. I was terrified. I was so proud that yesterday we walked, trotted, and cantered over a pole with garland on it that was maybe 3" off the ground. Today Shannon added 3' (though, thank god, without the garland).
So what to work on?
Well, all the basics. My heels, defensive lower leg, my hands being still and even, and clear, consistent aids and responses.
But then - helping him as we approach the fences - no pulling back, encouraging him with my leg, encouraging him with my voice and whip if I need to.
And being the boss. Willig is scared of the fences (and I'm scared of him) so I need to fake being doubly brave for both of us.
I don't know. Like my dressage lesson, Shannon was thrilled with Willig, and I left feeling like an empty sack of a rider. Not elated that we accomplished it, not excited about doing it again, just - deflated.