Don’t Let the Noise Distract You from Riding

Rodeos in the Deep South are a big-time affair - large crowds, loud music, bright lights, crazy broncos, and even crazier cowboys - and in my case, cowgirl. The whole setting is a lot to take in, especially when you’re the next contestant sitting in the box, waiting for the buzzer to go off. 

The very first time I competed, my whole body went numb. The roar of the crowd and fury of the stock fell into a quiet lull as muscle memory took over, my trusted mount leapt from the rusty box, and adrenaline forced all my focus towards chasing that steer.

After the rawhide rope was tied off on my saddle horn, my awareness of the arena came back - people cheered, threw Budweiser cans in the air, stomped their boots on the metal bleachers, and the announcer's deep voice echoed across the open grassland, “And….that’s a catch by the little cowgirl from Mississippi!”

Focusing on the Ride Amidst Chaos

Over the years, I learned how to navigate the sensory overload of the rodeo. I ignored the catcalls and the cursing. I taped up my fractured ribs and continued to ride. I learned how to tune everything out and focus both inside the arena and out in the field.

It wasn’t easy - a rodeo has so many distractions, plus there’s all the damn nerves! Before every run, my Uncle would hang on the arena railing and remind me, “Don’t let all the noise distract you from riding.” He’d cut his teeth team roping and steer wrestling for 40+ years - a lot longer than I’d been sitting a saddle, so he knew a thing or two about surviving the rodeo circuit. The outcomes of not being focused on my ride would mean I was hitting the dust in front of 800+ people, and the pressure was all the greater when a college scholarship and the future of my career were in the balance.

Chaos, distractions, and purposeless calamity - including the rodeo clowns mooning the audience during the announcer-led opening prayer - have the potential to throw us all off our seat. Today, many of us may feel as if we’re frozen in the roping box - Toby Keith is blaring, blinding spotlights are swinging, and the 1200 lb animal we’re astride is about to absolutely explode. Every single business, government agency, and nonprofit organization that I’ve interacted with in the past few months expresses such impacts. Well, every single one except my Amish saddle maker, who works by candlelight and assures me his business has very little to do with what goes on up in Washington, D.C. 

Here are some tips for focusing on the ride:

Take Time to Self-Reflect

Scrolling Instagram and binge-watching Netflix don’t count. That’s not reflection—that’s distraction. If you want to learn how to focus under pressure, you need to get real quiet with yourself and take inventory. What’s going on under the surface? What are you angry about? What are you hungry for? What gets under your skin, and what do you do when it does?

Self-reflection isn’t easy, and it sure as hell isn’t convenient. But it’s necessary. You have to carve out time and space to face yourself head-on. I schedule that time—literally. I mark it on my calendar, saddle up, and head out into the woods. No cell phone. Just a horse, a notebook, and a few other essentials. It’s there, off the grid, that I can hear myself think and figure out how to ride smarter next time.

Remember: It’s your job to manage you! It’s not the responsibility of the crowd to pie down, nor is up to the horse to read your mind and act accordingly. To be effective, you must manage your own performance.

Seek Input From Those on the Rail

I didn’t learn to rope on my own. I had a seasoned champ -my Uncle -perched on the rail, barking criticism and advice in the same breath. He wasn’t always kind, but he was often right. His outside perspective was crucial in enhancing my capabilities. He saw what I couldn’t, especially when my adrenaline blurred the details, and provided the feedback I needed to hone my skills and become a better rider.

Today, I ride in a completely different arena - it’s fast, technical, and tightly regulated. You have to bring your “A-game” every time you’re in the figurative saddle. These highly competitive spaces are not for the faint of heart.

Over the years, I’ve built a mentoring network of 15+ professionals I deeply respect. They are all very different from me. They come from different sectors, different walks of life, and they see things I don’t. I call them when I hit a wall, and they help me step away from the situation, recalibrate, and refocus. They’re my modern-day railbirds, and I’m better equipped to navigate the difficult aspects of my professional journey because of them.

Mentors are essential to continued career development. What they tell you may not always be what you want to hear. Effective mentorship isn’t 24/7 cheerleading. A good mentor will provide a different perspective—one you may not have seen or considered—that helps you succeed in complex operational environments.

Know What You’re Roping and Why You’re Doing It

If you don’t have a mission, you’ll get distracted by every sideshow in the arena. You’ll chase applause, flashy horse, potential payout, and shallow goals that don’t nourish your soul and positively contribute to humanity. That kind of riding won’t last. You’ll burn out, break down, and bitterly give up.

You’ve got to figure out what really matters to you. Not your neighbor. Not your social media feed. You. What’s worth getting bucked off for? What’s worth the scars and broken bones? What matters this much to you?

For me, I found purpose in transforming terrible experiences with broken public sector systems into something better. I partnered with others and founded a company committed to delivering high-quality, human-centered services in spaces that often overlook the people they’re supposed to serve. The money is hit or miss - sometimes it’s great, other times it’s not. The sector can be more than a little crazy. Nine times out of ten, it’s a completely “thankless” job. Most of the folks whose lives our work positively impacts never know who’s behind this mission-critical work.

However, I’m able to ride through these challenging times because the work really matters. I remember what it felt like to be on the receiving end of something inefficient and ineffective. It’s awful - downright nightmarish. Having the opportunity to make a real difference in this incredibly complicated, multi-layered sector keeps me climbing back on the horse, even after I’ve hit the dust a few times.

You’ve got to know what you’re roping and why you’re doing it. The reasons need to matter, and the work needs to make a real difference. Warming a seat, doing crappy work, and having no higher purpose in life is going to leave you immensely unhappy and unsatisfied. Plus, you’re denying others in our society the benefits that would have been realized had you woken up and committed to work that positively contributes to our collective future.

Conclusion

Managing yourself, soliciting input, developing a mission-driven career, and taking responsibility for your ride—these aren’t things anyone else can do for you. It’s a personal decision, made daily, sometimes minute by minute.

As you navigate the chaos and uncertainty of this moment, whatever arena you’re standing in, I encourage you to take a breath, shut out the distractions, and center yourself on what matters most. Because in the end, it’s not the roar of the crowd, the spotlight, or the pressure that defines your outcome.

It’s your grit. Your focus. Your commitment to ride it out, no matter what’s bucking beneath you.

Stay in the saddle. Ride with purpose. And don’t let the noise break your stride.