Why I left my Stanford Professorship to Become a Cowboy

I have done something I fear my ancestors are busy kvetching about in the after-life ('we ate only root vegetables so she could rake manure for FUN?' 'we crowded onto boats and sewed our jewelry into our skirts so she could TROT AROUND IN CIRCLES?') Indeed. This summer I turned down a reappointment of a stable position at Stanford Medicine that I worked most of my life to merit…..in order to become a middling horsewoman. Like most things, it's not that simple. I still have a position at Stanford and am teaching students, I have just cut way, way back in pay, benefits and hours worked. For the first time in my 48 years, I've hurled myself off a cliff of responsible safe choices in the direction of joy and who-knows-what. It was a long time coming. Any of you who've read my memoir know I have a weird relationship with ambition. Since childhood, I used good grades and then achievements of any kind as an analgesic on my fears and anxieties—dulling them until that stopped working and I was forced to face what scared me most (more loss of places, people and other animals I love). That's basically where my last book ended and where I have since been a bit stuck. You can't put any old gasoline in an engine built to run on anxiety and hypervigilance. So I've been in a holding pattern while I've tried to figure out how to motivate myself differently. I experimented with ADHD medication, deciding to become a person with hobbies, being nicer to myself (barf), therapy, visualization, brute force, routines, no routines, yada. All of it has worked a little bit. But the thing that has worked most of all is horse. And I'm not talking about anything woo here or even equine-assisted therapy. I'm talking about the physicality of working with my body, alongside someone else working with their body (horse), in service of a common goal. It turns out there is something I find more motivating than fear and it's wind in my ears. It's the freedom that comes with galloping, of not having my phone in my hand, of trying and failing to get better at something a little dangerous, slowly and every day, that makes my muscles sore and my brain tired. For millennia we used horses to get us to the places we wanted to go (literally and metaphorically) and that's what I'm doing now. No gasoline required. And I'm not just trying tobea cowboy, I'm also trying to write about it. Doing this in my late forties has taken me down a trail with so many people and other creatures who are teaching me what I need to know—about where to put our worries, how to get stronger (emotionally and physically), how to age in power, how to fight for what we want and be a leader especially when you think you're not ready—that it makes me dizzy and happy and full of the good fire. But commuting many hours and pouring my creative energies into the mentoring of others' was getting in the way of this and I was beginning to feel guilty and fraudulent— like I was someone who talked about writing more than she wrote and whose purpose had shifted a little bit. 2026 is my tenth year as a writing professor and I have shared what I know and it's time to go learn more, the hard way, so that I might share more later. This is the homework that I've assigned myself. Maybe you want some too? Share These prompts are meant to inspire you— not limit or intimidate you. To that end, put your phone in airplane mode if you can and set a timer for 7 minutes. You can always write (or think) for longer if you so choose, but I find 7 minutes to be kind of magical. Second, tell yourself that you are already excellent,perfect even—if only for 7 minutes (you have the rest of your life to criticize yourself). Third, whenever you get stuck, choose a sensation to describe (a taste, sound, sight, smell, noise, etc). Let me know how it goes!If you'd like, you can post your response in the comments section or on Instagram by tagging@laurel_braitman. Make a list of six moments you felt free (however you define this for yourself). They can be big or little. But write each as a short scene without using the word 'free.' Use all your senses and write in the present tense. Now make a list of six things you would do if you had the freedom to do them. Is there anything on this list that is worth aiming yourself at? Even if it's for 15 minutes a month? Design your own compass and then draw and label it. Instead of the four directions (North, South, East, West) choose attributes/values/destinations you wish to guide you. You could have 4 or 12 or whatever you like. If I did this today, mine would probably be fun/service/leadership/beauty/executive-function (lol). Extra credit if you paste on a spinner made of cardboard or paper and keep this nearby so that going forward you can aim yourself in whatever direction feels good at the moment. Describe a time you hurled yourself into the unknown based only on your intuition. Who was there? What was happening? Can you describe this for us as if it's clear and specific as a film still? What happened next? If you'd like, you can post your response(s) in the comments section or on Instagram by tagging@laurel_braitman and I'll find them. Share Leave a comment I am out and about the next few months—virtually and in person—and would love to see you. Last week I led a virtual workshop for the good people ofCancer Nation. If you are unfamiliar with their resources or incredible advocacy on behalf of us all, gohere. We have two upcoming sessions ofWriting Medicine, virtual reflective writing sessions for anyone. The next one will be this Saturday, September 12th, at 10amPT/1pmET. Cost is never a barrier. On September 16th I will be doing a live event withTEDin San Diego, CA to celebrate the conference moving from Vancouver back to where it started in California. September 26th is our annual fallStorytelling Retreatfor Stanford clinical students (PEDS 231) atPie Ranchin Pescadero, CA. If you know anyone eligible, please encourage them to sign up. On October 26th, I am excited to be doing a keynote and leading a workshop at theWomen Leaders in Medicine Summitin Dallas/Forth Worth, Texas. If you don't happen to be in those places, or if you're looking only for writing workshops, do not fret.We have a number of upcoming workshops right here!Join us! Sign Up Now Thanks for reading! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.