The trendy catch phrase these days is “self-love.” When I first learned about “self-love,” I mistakenly believed this meant pampering myself. Massages, candles, scented baths, vacations and other pleasantries were indulgences that, as a busy trial attorney, I did not have time for. Loving myself might include indulging in earthly delights, but it goes much deeper than superficial rewards.
“We are on borrowed time now.” That is what the manager at the assisted living facility where my father has lived for nearly four years gently tells me. A few weeks earlier, during a phone consult with my younger brother and me, my father’s physician introduces the word "hospice" into the conversation.
Give a dozen brilliant mathematicians the same problem, and they will give you the same answer. Math has an objective truth to it; however, legal writing is different.
Throughout my time as an access-to-justice scholar, I have noticed a meaningful gap in our collective understanding of the scope of civil justice problems in the United States and of the real work needed to address the access-to-justice crisis.
“Hey, I want you to know that I’ve got your back.” How many of us have ever said something like that to a colleague or friend? More pointedly, how many of us have ever truly meant those words? And what does “having another person’s back” actually look like?
Science explains that our minds are like icebergs: Our conscious awareness represents 10% of the iceberg above the surface of the water, and our unconscious awareness represents 90% of the iceberg unseen below the surface of the water. We are not aware of 90% of our thoughts/brain functions, which are unconscious—by definition.
I sowed each seed in my garden with equal care and affection. I took great pains to ensure optimal growing conditions: watering them, providing the prescribed fertilizer and periodically extracting weeds.
Back in the day, I ran with the big dogs in BigLaw. Now, after suffering with clinical depression for more than 20 years and surviving a suicide attempt, I am happier than ever in the legal profession. My mental health journey is a cautionary tale, but one with a message of hope.
The ABA Journal wants to host and facilitate conversations among lawyers about their profession. We are now accepting thoughtful, non-promotional articles and commentary by unpaid contributors.
