Leaving Personal Life Out of the Saddle

At the last show, a horse trainer I’m currently working with, we’ll call him Rick, ran into something a lot of competitive riders face but rarely talk about.

Just a day before the show, Rick had a tough situation with one of his close clients. 

When it came time to show, he had a hard time letting it go. It followed him into the show, distracted his mind, and drained his energy.

When we talked, he told me, “I feel like I’m already set up for a rough show. My focus is gone, and I’m not sure I can get it back.”

That’s when I challenged him, not to try and erase the stress, but to use the moment as a real opportunity to grow.

I told him: this is your chance to practice leaving your personal life out of the saddle.

How to Separate Personal and Professional

We started with him setting a clear goal of getting his young horse to do what he knows, willingly, at medium speed and intensity.No pressure to push him to the limit. Just get him responsive, more independent, and fully committed to the cues.

To support that, we leaned into a few key tools.

First, I asked Rick to begin each ride with the “stand-still challenge.” For three minutes the moment he gets on the horse, no movement—just observation. Observe himself. Observe the horse. This simple moment created a mental shift, a transition from everything outside the arena into the work. Quiet. Focused. Present.

Next, we worked on his attention. I reminded him that nothing the horse does is too small to matter. No detail is unimportant. listening to the horse through his body, as we call “thinking from the body to the brain”. The choice to pay close attention helped him redirect his mind. The more he stayed focused on the horse, the less room there was for anything else.

We also talked about self-control. At shows, it’s easy to slip into conversations and catch up with people you haven’t seen in a while. But I challenged Rick to stay silent in the warm-up pen. It was uncomfortable at first, but stepping away from the social buzz gave him the mental space he needed. That silence helped him stay connected with himself and with the horse.

Lastly, we talked about the mindset for practice. I reminded him: you're not here to prove anything. You're here to work. To improve. To communicate clearly. I encouraged him to embrace imperfection, to Practice Ugly. Do what’s right for the horse in each moment, even if it doesn’t look good.

These small but powerful mindset shifts helped Rick stay grounded and present. He left his personal challenges outside the arena. He practiced ugly. He made meaningful progress.

And in the end, the horse gave him his best.

The stress didn’t disappear,but it didn’t ride with him and that’s what’s important.

This show could’ve easily become a negative experience for Rick—another story of how stress took over and things fell apart. But instead, his openness to be challenged helped him find a new path. He didn’t avoid the pressure; he met it with presence, focus, and a willingness to grow.

That’s the power of a strong mindset.

It doesn’t erase the hard stuff, but it gives us the tools to ride through it with clarity and intention.

When we invest in ourselves—mentally, emotionally, and not just technically—we learn how to lead from the saddle, no matter what’s happening outside the arena. 

And that’s when real progress happens—not just for the horse, but for the rider, too.