January 9, 2017

By  Casey Berman

It is raining very hard. It is very quiet and so I can hear what seems like every rain drop on our roof and windows and balcony. It is very quiet because it is Saturday night and it is dark out and my children are asleep and my wife is asleep and the dog is asleep.

A big storm is passing over California. All week. We have had years of drought, so we all rejoice when we have wet winters.

But actually the television weather people don’t seem to be rejoicing much – they only gloomily talk about how there may be flooding and downed trees and power outages and food shortages. I prefer to listen to the rain and be thankful that we now have water.

Needing greatness

I wondered a lot about what I was going to write this week, and so I ended up not writing much. I wondered and wondered and wondered. I wasn’t getting anywhere in my mind wondering so I didn’t even start writing. And that’s how I got to watching the weather on television.

I didn’t write because I didn’t have anything to write. Wait, no, rather, I didn’t write because I felt I didn’t have anything GREAT to write. If my writing isn’t great, why would I want to share with anyone?

And then I realized that this thinking missed the whole point: we should write (or do whatever it is we like) for the sake of writing. We should write (or do whatever it is we like) for the reward of writing. We should write (or do whatever it is we like) because if we don’t, we slowly lose our soul.

It’s what I see with so many of us unhappy attorneys. We want to leave the law so badly. We are so unhappy. We want to begin doing more of what we like. But we only want to leave the law GREAT! We don’t want to fail. We don’t want to mess up. We don’t want to do it wrong.

So then we just don’t begin.


But when we do begin to leave the law, we see that not only do we begin to understand ourselves better; not only do we create so many new opportunities; and not only do we gain confidence and momentum to change our lives.

But we also begin to view the process of leaving the law as a reward in and of itself. We become able to enjoy beginning. We become able to enjoy journeying. We become able to enjoy risking.

I wrote what seemed like gibberish for this post for a while. I then edited this post a lot. And then I re-read it, and I stopped editing it when it felt good to me. It’s not the greatest writing I’ve done, but it didn’t need to be. It just needed to be begun.

We don’t need to leave the law in the best possible way. We just need to begin to leave.

The rain is coming down heavier now. We should have so many beautiful wildflowers covering the hills this Spring.

And if you have any questions or just want to say hi, reply to this email or send me a note at [email protected]. I read and reply to all my emails.

I’m on a mission to help attorneys get to themselves better so they can leave the law to become happier, and here’s what I’m doing to help:

Sign up for the free podcast I just launched “Love or Leave the Law”with fellow Leave Law Behind reader, former attorney and published author, Adam Ouellette

Check out the online course I designed specifically to help you begin to leave the law right now at your own pace.

Or schedule a (no charge) time to speak with me to see if my one-to-one coaching is a fit for you.

Ready to take BACK Control of Your Life?

Are you feeling stuck in your legal career, dreaming of a way out? At Leave Law Behind, we specialize in helping lawyers like you find fulfilling nonlaw careers that reignite your passion and restore balance to your life.
If you've practiced law for seven or more years and are considering a change, we invite you to watch our short welcome video below. Then, schedule a free call with us to see if you're the perfect fit for our transformative coaching program. Your future begins here.

{"email":"Email address invalid","url":"Website address invalid","required":"Required field missing"}