I took Tax Law as a 2L.
I struggled. I was a liberal arts major in undergrad, and was not used to doing problem sets. The professor was renowned, but I was intimidated by him and never went to office hours to improve.
And plus, Tax is just really hard.
I had ignored my homework, so I arrived at school early one morning to get it done before class. I plopped down in a chair at the school cafe, opened up my book, took out the worksheet, and continued to feel totally stumped …
… until I saw a fellow Tax classmate at a nearby table. He sat in the front row, was focused throughout class, answered most questions and was the resident Tax class expert.
He also was a really nice guy. And when I asked him if he had a few minutes to help me with the homework, he happily obliged. He explained the concepts to me clearly and with his help I got them done in less than fifteen minutes.
Wow, I said to him, thank you. If I may ask, how did you get so good at Tax?
We think a lot about leaving the law. But our actions may not match our thoughts, aspirations and hopes.
The good thing is we have our kids around us. Or people that look up to us. Or a conscience that keeps us honest.
These are great forcing factors to help us model the life we really want to live, and not just the life we think we should live, or the life we think others want us to live.
I shot this week’s video to talk to you about how a BigLaw attorney left the law to follow what he enjoys, and how his relationship with his kids really helped push him through his doubts and worries.
Click the below player to watch the video.
I hope you enjoy the video, and please leave your thoughts in the comments below or feel free to contact me directly.
Interested in my one to one coaching? Click here to schedule a free consult to talk to me directly to learn if the Leave Law Behind coaching is a fit for you.
This past weekend my family and I were in the north Boston area for a family event.
Our Saturday was wide open and free. My wife and daughter chose to go on a short road trip with some aunts and uncles to New Hampshire and Maine.
My 6-year-old son and I chose to spend the day at the nearby waterslide park!
Giant whirlpools, body and raft waterslides, a fast paced river tube ride, a basketball hoop in the pool, a water themed obstacle course, hamburgers and fries and ice cream … all cozily contained in a 65,000 square foot, 84 degree indoor biosphere.
It was a blast … so much so that we stayed too long and were late for the family event!
The value this place provides
But amidst all of the fun and noise and chasing and laughing, I did take a moment or two to slow down and be as mindful as I could and observe the scene.
The park’s website said that we would have a “splashtastic” day of “kidfriendly fun”.
That was correct. But I don’t think the owners of this park truly realize the value that their park provided us all:
- Dads and sons were able to bond and be together distraction-free and have fun
- The teenage lifeguards were able to make some side cash and be independent authority figure
- Young children were able to run around freely and safely away from their parents and learn and engage with other kids and on their own
- We were all able to disconnect from our cell phones and quiet our minds and enjoy the moment
- We were all able to run around and burn calories and move our muscles
- We were all able to be around and talk to and play with people of all ethnicities and races
- We were all able to stand under plentiful,
When everything is going very well, it can be surprising to fall into a funk of doubt. But that’s what happened to me recently … and a friend of mine used my own writings to pull me out.
I was speaking with my team here at Leave Law Behind about the work we’ve recently completed: The free Video Mini-Class, the new Online Course, the Ultimate Coaching Program, the new videos we’re producing.
And we discussed all the things we have in store for the future: live events, new products, webinars …
And through all of this excitement, yup, I unfortunately let some cold-blooded doubt creep in.
I thought aloud about how daunting all of this could be. About how I could possibly get all of this done. About whether all of this work would actually help attorneys looking to leave the law. About whether I was the right person to do this.
I further reinforced this doubt with what I thought was some quite irrefutable evidence: I had tried my hand at entrepreneurship in the past, and I had achieved varying levels of success.
So … who was I to think I could really be entrepreneurial again … if I hadn’t been able to fully do it before?
We have so much that we want out of our professional career as a lawyer.
Stature. Security. Wealth. Social acceptance.
For so many of us, it was these needs that drove us in large part to apply to law school and then become a lawyer. We thought becoming an attorney would be the best way to attain them.
And as we leave the law, many of us still have these needs in mind when we consider any non-law job.
The irony is that even if we have attained these needs as a lawyer, we’re still not as happy as we want, and should, be.
I want to share with you in the below video an alternative need we can focus on … an authentic, well-aligned, and helpful need that we can now begin to prioritize as we change our life.
Some might even agree that pursuing this is part of the key to life …
Click the below player to watch the video.
I hope you enjoy it, and please leave your thoughts in the comments below or feel free to contact me directly.
It’s like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.
E.L Doctorow, American Novelist
One of the most frequently asked questions I get from Leave Law Behind readers is “What is my next step”?
Now, we’ve taken some steps to get to this point:
We have found the courage to admit to ourselves that we’re unhappy.
We have found the time to google search “unhappy attorney” or “JD alternatives” or any of the other terms that led you to this blog and others.
We have found the time to read and sometimes we’ll muster the honesty to email in and tell me your story or inquire about coaching or just to vent (I read every email).
And what we’re after is the next step. “Where do we go? What should we focus on? Where should we turn?”
A guiding light
Many of you have asked me to create an online course to help us all leave the law behind,
This past Saturday night my Golden State Warriors played a playoff basketball game against the Oklahoma City Thunder.
And I was a nervous wreck watching it, yelling at the TV when the Warriors messed up, pumping my fist when they scored … all the while in a burger restaurant with other people, my wife and my two kids.
And I felt I had good reason for my anxiety. The Warriors played inconsistently – leading in the first quarter, missing many shots in the second quarter, losing by 5 at halftime, committing bad turnovers, playing out of synch. It was hard to watch.
I was at my most nervous when the Warriors were losing 94-87 with only 5 minutes and 48 seconds left in the game. With the Thunder’s Steven Adams at the line for his second free throw, I clenched my fists and let out a muffled scream.
My 9 year old daughter finished her bite of burger, looked at me, and asked me “Daddy, is this fun for you?”
First off, it’s always hard to take when your children are smarter and more mindful than you are.
We had a fanciful bowl that my wife loved, a red and orange and yellow glassblown design all swirled together, that featured prominently on a shelf in our kitchen. It had a small bowl-like cavity in the middle surrounded by a flat decorative ring-like exterior.
It was much, much more artful than useful. In fact we never used it at all. But it was very nice to look at.
So needless to say my wife was very disappointed when I broke it about a year ago.
I attempted to move this beautiful glass piece without completely drying off my hands, I lost the grip and the bowl clanged on our counter top and broke into three pieces. My wife shot me a very disapproving look before she banished me from the kitchen and began to clean up and mourn over her favorite dish.
It was the last I saw of it.
Until last week. We bought our son a small fish for his birthday this year. Last week I found him and my wife cleaning out the fish’s small tank on the kitchen table. And while the tank was being cleaned,
Each week I receive emails from Leave Law Behind readers. Some are interested in coaching, some have questions about that week’s post, and some just want to share their journey and be heard. I read and respond to every email – it’s one of my favorite parts of this job.
One reader recently wrote in to tell me that she is exploring leaving the law because she just doesn’t know who she is helping. She does not have a particular connection to the client. She does not have a particular connection to the firm’s partners. She can’t pinpoint who she is actually helping with her work. And if she is helping someone, she doesn’t know exactly how. She doesn’t see the good in what she does. She doesn’t feel appreciated.
It got me thinking about one of the major mindshifts, one of the major keys, to not only leaving the law, but to living a meaningful, wealthy lifestyle.
And that is to focus on helping others. To do something, create something, sell something, that can help people at scale (help many people) or in magnitude (help at least some people in a significant way).
I’m always on the lookout for stories from the Leave Law Behind community, of people first realizing they want to do something different to those people who take that first step and actually leave and do something else.
Here is the story of Sheila Agnew, a Leave Law Behind reader, former family law attorney and now published author. She has a compelling life story, of leaving the law … going back to it … and now finding her Unique Genius as a writer. I hope you enjoy.
In 2003 I was a new, lateral, commercial litigation associate at a fairly small firm in downtown Manhattan. On my first Tuesday morning, a senior partner stepped into my office:
“Welcome to the firm Susan. How are you getting on?”
“Fine,” I said.
I didn’t point out that my name wasn’t Susan. I didn’t care enough to bother.
“Wonderful,” he boomed, “we’re quiet in commercial litigation at the moment but there’s lots of work for you in matrimonial litigation. There’s a case going to trial in a few weeks.”
It was not my dream as a little girl to grow up to be a divorce lawyer.