A core tenet at Leave Law Behind is exploring and then identifying and then continually refining your Unique Genius – those skills, strengths and enjoyments that you are so good at, that come so naturally to you that you don’t even think of them as special – and then finding “non-law”, alternative jobs and roles and careers and problems that call for your Unique Genius.
In other words, you identify your Unique Genius in order to see how you can best help and add value to the world and which jobs and roles are the best medium and channel to do this.
One of the reasons we are so unhappy as attorneys is because there isn’t a fit between what we do well … and what the job description of an attorney calls for.
But if you’re having trouble identifying what you’re good at, or what you enjoy, sometime it’s easier and a good first step to focus on what you don’t like … and what you don’t do well.
To be able to confidently and sincerely say “I don’t like this” or “I just kinda like it”
I was recently interviewed for a book about going to law school and the future of the legal profession in general.
The author sent me a draft copy to review and proof read for my sections.
And as I read more than just the sections in which she quoted me 🙂 I stumbled upon a fascinating 2009 quote from Justice Scalia that I wanted to share with you.
In response to a question about whether the quality of legal counsel appearing before the U.S. Supreme Court was too low, Scalia responded that he felt the opposite … and wondered aloud why so many bright minds were even entering the practice of law. Here’s what he said:
“I used to have just the opposite reaction. I used to be disappointed that so many of the best minds in the country were being devoted to this enterprise.
“I mean there’d be a … public defender from Podunk, you know, and this woman is really brilliant, you know. Why isn’t she out inventing the automobile or, you know, doing something productive for this society?
“I mean lawyers,
“My last day as a lawyer” is the subject line of an email I received recently from a Leave Law Behind Program Member.
He just left the law! His email to me is below:
I just wanted to send you an email to let you know that my efforts, the course, and your encouragement have paid off. Today is my last day at my law firm. On Monday, I’ll be starting a new job as an insurance adjuster.
I want to thank you for all of the help that you have given me during the process of transitioning out of the law. Your course and your encouragement have been valuable assets in making this happen. Meeting you in person back in December really lit a fire under me to find something new. I just can’t thank you enough!
I’m really excited to embark on a new chapter in my life, and you really helped me to see that there was a way forward for me. I just wanted to share my success with you.
He and I met at our live Leave Law Behind event last December here in San Francisco.
I love to have readers write in and share their successes, struggles and experiences.
The following was written by a current member of the Leave Law Behind Program, who as we speak is in the process of leaving the law behind. She reflects on a topic so many of us struggle with and fear facing … leaving the law in spite of our law school debt.
I know you’ll find this essay insightful, personal and motivating. I’ve re-read it multiple times and learn something new each time. I’m hoping she will write more for us!
How I Overcame My Fear of Debt in the Face of Leaving the Law
After financing my law school education in full, I had no idea what I needed to do to pay my debt down. I told myself that my only option was to survive at my firm as long as I could until the debt was paid.
The next two years were spent trying to work as many hours as possible to get a bonus that would help lower my debt. I didn’t do a lot of things for myself, and I told myself that I couldn’t have nice things because my debt load was so high.
I have to admit, I’m a little embarrassed writing this to you. I don’t often get “touchy feely” or think about my “soul” or “spirit” that much, so to sit down and put this note together for you is taking some effort.
As an attorney, I really only think in terms of the tangible, of the measurable, of what’s evident. I try to avoid, or at the very least, prepare my best, for the unknown, the risky. I have faith in logic, science, precedent, and the objective …
… oh man, who am I kidding? That sounded pretty good, didn’t it? I mean, I’m reading this now and it sounds authoritative!
But it’s not the whole picture of me.
I’m more than a negotiating/litigating/redlining/billing/rainmaking robot.
Ah, now I get it … I now know why I was compelled to write this note to you.
Something is missing. I feel something is missing. Something is off with me. But I don’t know who I can tell this to.
Sure, I can tell a few people in the office here, but the conversation usually devolves into us just complaining about bad clients,
Many of you have spoken with me on the free consults I provide for Leave Law Behind readers and then have moved onto joining the Leave Law Behind Program.
And one of the first questions I ask on these calls is “Why do you want to leave the law?”
This week, I asked that same question on a call to a fellow Leave Law Behind reader and he answered “I don’t want to turn out like my boss.”
It’s a good litmus test. Look at the attorneys around you, the attorneys you work with, especially those a few years and a few titles ahead of you.
What is their health like? Are they enjoying themselves? Do they have the values and principles you want to maintain? Do they spend quality time with their family? Are their priorities in line with yours? Do they work with meaning and purpose?
If not, take this realization seriously, because this is your future staring clearly right at you.
Learn how to overcome your fears to leave the law behind by scheduling a free phone call with me, Casey.
You are reading this right now because you want to leave the law.
You want to leave because of the anxiety you suffer as an attorney, or because you are bored by the subject matter of the law, or because you feel no or little connection with your clients or the firm, or …
But many obstacles block you from leaving.
And one of the main barriers you face in leaving your law practice behind is that the legal community has never really embraced or been open to its members admitting they are unhappy. To revealing they want to leave. To exploring alternative, “non-law” careers.
As such, you can’t share your unhappiness with others in the firm. You don’t want to disappoint your colleagues or friends or family by leaving.
You suffer from the social taboo that you should just grin and bear it and be happy as an attorney and push down any feeling you have that practicing the law isn’t your life purpose.
Well … I’m happy to say that this is all changing, and we’re all going to be the beneficiaries.
An example of this is the talk I’m giving on Monday March 1 2018 at the Bar Association of San Francisco (along with fellow coach Elena Deutsch of WILL) called “Alternative Careers: Take Action Toward the Life You Desire”
Recently I had a government form I need to fill out. I received the notice a while back, glanced at it briefly and then filed it away and put it off until last week (completing it a day before the deadline).
I realized that I took so long to complete the form because I had a number of blockers (or fears) getting in my way:
- I just don’t like bureaucracy and forms and paperwork. It’s just not part of my Unique Genius. I get overwhelmed when I think of stuff I need to fill out. I can say “that’s just me” but really it’s a belief system I have.
- I was annoyed I even had to fill this out. I’m a dutiful citizen, but I still can’t help feel that a government form gets in the way of my work, my family time, and my life. I mean, c’mon, there is too much paperwork in our lives already!
- Also, I don’t like actual paper. I am a digital person nowadays … I was going to have to print up these forms, I would need to write a hard copy check,
My son and I were in line at my neighborhood cafe here in San Francisco when he pulled on my sleeve and told me to look up.
High up on the walls was a large, subtle 180 degree mural of the neighborhood right outside the door: Our area’s hills, valleys, houses, schools, roads. It was beautiful and lifelike and done in such an understated way, that it pulled you in without you even realizing it.
But there was more. If you look very carefully, you can see that the muralist included small phrases and messages and questions throughout the nooks and crannies of the mural. Below the rain gutter of a house. Hidden on a roof.
The one my eyes jumped to was “What kind of stories do you tell?”
What stories do you, unhappy attorney, tell yourself?
What stories do you tell yourself … that keep you in the place you are right now?
- I am [insert religious/ethnic/culture group here] and being a lawyer is just what we do.
- I was a liberal arts major, so I can’t do anything but be a lawyer.
I am not sure how it got this way. Between you and me. It didn’t need to get to this point, and I want to correct it.
I’m an unhappy attorney who is trying to leave the law for a non law job. I am trying to change my life for the better. Please can you and I start over too?
I have to admit, I have always felt that you didn’t want to be with me. There was always just enough of you in my life … but you never seemed to like being with me. It was as if you were forced to be with me. You didn’t flow to me … you were dragged to me. I wondered why we never had that much fun together.
And you never seemed to want to stay long with me. You have been fleeting and unreliable. It always felt like you were in a hurry to leave me. And so I then worried if you would ever come back.
But now you are an immovable weight to me. Law school debt. Bills to pay. I don’t feel like you support me …