When Quitting Seems Fitting

By Lydia Fairchok

Some young police officers were talking about the pros and cons of working for different agencies in the area. “Hey, Sarge!” said one. “What would you tell someone who is looking to change jobs?” The sergeant looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied, “The grass is exactly the same.”

Grass is important to horse professionals. It means our horses can have healthier joints, lower feed bills, and happier digestive systems, and we can have the satisfaction of seeing horses do what horses are meant to do. In our line of work, we can’t imagine a more proper use for grassy expanses than pastureland. Haven’t we all driven past a golf course and thought how much better it would look with horses grazing blissfully on those verdant, rolling hills? (Sorry, golf enthusiasts – perhaps you have thought my pastures would look better as a fairway.)

Grass is also a fragile resource. Even if you are blessed with more acres than horses, you undoubtedly have to practice some type of rotational grazing, manure removal, over-seeding, weed control, and mowing. Neglected pastures are easy to spot because they quickly devolve into mud, stubble, and waste. In short, good grass takes work.

Our professional lives are very much like the pastures that we rely on to provide our four-legged partners with food and room to roam. Well-kept careers must be nurtured, protected from overuse, regularly purged of negative influences, and kept in check. When these caretaking measures are in place, pastures and careers alike experience steady growth and yield a fruitful harvest.

Sometimes, though, no matter how much care you give your professional pasture, you cannot help but notice things that seem a little greener on the other side of the fence. Sometimes it is because our students have gone before us. When clients walk out, we inevitably wonder if we are offering a worthwhile product, or if someone else really does have something that much better. “If only” thoughts begin to creep in: If only my barn

was newer or fancier. If only my arena were bigger, or I had an indoor. If only my horses were better-bred or more talented.

Sometimes the work itself weighs us down. We question the return on our efforts: Why am I doing this? Who really benefits from all these hours I’m putting in? Does anyone besides me really care?

Sometimes the days are never-ending, the wheelbarrows are overflowing with manure and have flat tires; the horses are lame or unwilling; the students are dull or contentious or needy; another piece of the barn just fell off; another piece of you just started to ache, and another bill just arrived. Sometimes the farm across town seems like they have it all together while you are splitting at the seams. Sometimes, Monday through Friday, nine-to-five with paid time off, benefits, and a 401K doesn’t sound so bad, does it?

Stop. It’s not bad to think about moving, changing, or doing something else entirely. It’s not bad to take an honest look at the scope and sustainability of your horse business. It’s not even bad if you come to the conclusion that you can’t, don’t want to, or shouldn’t do this anymore. But if you are thinking about throwing in the towel, make sure you are actually thinking. Don’t simply react to frustrations and feelings.

The grass on both sides of the fence is exactly the same. If you quit—totally or partially—because you are worn out, discouraged, or feeling insufficient and defeated, then you are running the substantial risk of throwing away something that should have been salvaged. You have an obligation, therefore, to weigh the choice of quitting with the same thoroughness and professionalism that should drive all your decisions. So how do you consider the possibility of quitting the right way?

Never quit on a bad day.

Google is inconclusive on the matter of who first uttered these important words. I heard them from my friend JR, who works in the competitive world of auto sales. He was tired of changes at his dealership that had given rise to poor leadership, organizational flaws, and negative coworker dynamics. He was weary of showing up to the same unwinnable battle every morning, but he wasn’t willing to quit on a bad day.

With admirable tenacity, JR guarded his positive attitude and stuck it out until things got better. Nothing was perfect—many of the issues persisted to varying degrees—but eventually there were times where he could point to specific accomplishments and say “That went well.” As those days developed, so did an opportunity to work elsewhere. He took the new position and walked away without having to wonder if he gave up too soon or if he made a knee-jerk reaction. JR quit on a good day. Short of an urgently toxic or morally compromising situation, so should you.

Don’t quit just to get away.

When I downsized my instruction program in 2014, I wasn’t escaping from teaching. A career in public safety was an exciting and welcome change, but it wasn’t because I couldn’t stand one more day in the arena; it was because I had a new purpose in a different field.

Sometimes our calling changes, and that’s okay. Leaving to go to something else is a positive and empowering experience. Perhaps you are ready to change gears to raise a family, move to a new state, or jump into a completely different industry. Congratulations! Teaching will always be a part of who you are, and you will carry the benefits of your equine career into all your future endeavors.

Other times, our calling remains the same, and it is our attitude about the calling that has shifted. Are you overworked, resentful, and passionless about teaching? The novelty of a new path is unlikely to last very long. Relentless and honest self-examination will tell you why. Did you reach this point because you struggle with managing demands on your time, relational boundaries with others, separating work and home life, or allowing destructive vices to drag you down? Remember that you are the sole common denominator of all your experiences, and your personal baggage is portable. Resigning from a position (or even liquidating a business) is elementary compared to resigning from an attitude. The work of ending a negative mindset begins now so you can make a rational decision about whether or not you should go, and so you can bring your best self to any new ventures.

Don’t leave unfinished work.

The overarching work of teaching is a continual journey with no definitive end. Your task will never be “finished” in the traditional sense because there will always be more students and horses that could benefit from your time and expertise. However, there is a right way to leave, and it’s a lot less like walking out a door than it is like taking an exit ramp off the interstate. You wouldn’t crash through the guardrail along a highway just to get onto an adjoining road; you would wait for an exit even if it meant travelling a little farther out of your way.

Likewise, leaving an instruction program should be a sensible sequence wherein stepping back does not result in damage to you or your stakeholders. People rely on you to provide a degree of transition, whether through referrals or providing the knowledge and tools for them to find their own alternatives. Horses count on you for careful placement in new homes. As you contemplate quitting, are you able to wrap up your loose ends, or would you be leaving unresolved messes for someone else? If it’s time to go, ways to go properly will begin to present themselves.

I recently experienced this when a client and I made the difficult decision to give up

on her gelding, who clearly didn’t enjoy the job we had in mind for him. After months of frustration, quitting became a real option. Our main concern was finding a home that would be able to manage his quirks, some of which required experienced handling. We cautiously and reluctantly spread the word that he was for sale. Within a week, his daily caretaker at the boarding stable approached my client to say that she wanted him. We already knew that they had an established bond and she was familiar with his handling needs, so it was an easy decision and a reason to rejoice as the question “Should we quit?” was answered almost immediately.

You don’t need everything to be spelled out up front, and often you will wait much longer than a week for the answer (I certainly have!), but there should be some degree of external confirmation that your work is coming to a natural close or someone else is ready to step up and continue the mission.

Don’t make the decision in a vacuum.

In the words of King Solomon, whose reign over ancient Israel was characterized by wisdom and peaceful prosperity, “Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.” Wise kings didn’t make their decisions— which would have affected the entire civilization in their care—in isolation. They had advisors who were qualified contributors to the decision-making process, and the king didn’t move forward without first weighing the words of their counsel.

If you are a leader (hint: if you are an instructor, you are a leader), you need a group of people close enough to you that they can speak honestly and directly into your life. This might be comprised of a spouse, professional peers, mentors, close friends, or other family members—but it needs to be people who are not afraid to tell you when you are going off course. (If you don’t have anyone who can address you honestly this way, you probably have some work to do on your character so that you are more approachable and can develop deeper relationships.)

While not all of your inner circle has to have a strong sense of rightness about every one of your decisions, you should find affirmation or at least a general lack of opposition among your “abundance of counselors” when you air your thoughts about quitting. If you do encounter differing opinions, listen closely to the reasons why, and don’t discount the contributions of those who are not inside the horse industry with you. People who know you well do not have to know your field well in order to have honest and valuable input. Oftentimes the outside perspective is the most unbiased perspective.

Don’t make up your heart before you make up your mind.

Have you heard the tongue-in-cheek response, “My mind is made up; don’t confuse me with facts”? Walking away from a role as an instructor is rarely just a professional move. Instruction is built on relationships— with clients, with peers, with horses—which means that any contemplation of quitting is bound to be an emotionally charged line of thought.

These emotions help us to consider options outside our comfort zone, develop strong convictions about our courses of action, and provide fuel to follow through, which is a good thing...as long as we make our actual decisions based on facts, not feelings. It is human nature to seek out only those pieces of information and opinions that tend to agree with the answer we want, but “follow your heart” is a Disney myth. While our feelings provide valuable impetus, our brains are meant to ultimately reign over our hearts. Get outside the emotional bubble, get honest with yourself, and get wise counsel. Whether you quit or keep on keeping on, you won’t regret how you got there.

May I be painfully honest? I write these things to you because this year, I wanted to quit teaching. Every point above is a piece of my own struggle with the desire to give up. The grass of my career was getting overgrazed and underfed in a hurry, and many nights found me begging God to take something off my plate, and for that something to be instruction. The other side of the fence looked awfully green compared to where I was standing, and the work of restoring my own pasture felt insurmountable.

My calling isn’t over, though. When I consider the needs of my horses and students, I’m not on an exit ramp. When I talk to my inner circle of people who are positioned to speak into my life, they affirm me in my responsibility to keep teaching. When I look closely at myself, I see that the areas that need to change are not within instruction itself; it is the way I manage my time and obligations outside the arena that needs to adapt. Someday these factors may be different, and stepping back might be the right call at that time. For now, whether it’s a good day or a bad day, quitting isn’t on the table.

I hope it isn’t on the table for you, either, because we need instructors who are committed to professionalism and the good of the horse. Our industry needs you; your students need you; your horses need you. But if the time truly has come to bow out, the rest of us will take it from here. Only let your decision be made out of careful consideration and wisdom, not bitter resentment and the errant belief that some other pasture holds better promises.

Hang in there, my friend, through this roller coaster of decision-making. You are a skilled and competent individual who will bring value to everything you do no matter where you go. If you stay, stay because there is still good work to be done, and you are meant to do it. If you quit, do it with excellence because in doing so, you will leave the grass on this side of the fence a little greener for the rest of us, and we will thank you for it as we wish you well in your next calling.

GIVE YOUR HORSE THE STOMACH TO PREVENT ULCERS.

Horses constantly face changes big and small that cause stress. But you can help prevent stress from causing ulcers. Protect your horse by medicating during times of potential stress with ULCERGARD. There is no generic for the gold standard in equine omeprazoles. FDA approved. Proven to work. Trusted for decades.

STRIKE BEFORE STRESS DOES.

ULCERGARD IMPORTANT SAFETY INFORMATION: ULCERGARD can be used in horses that weigh at least 600 lbs. Safety in pregnant mares has not been determined. Not for use in humans. Keep this and all medications out of the reach of children. In case of ingestion, contact a physician.