Keeva's Column #4

Beginning and Beginning and . . .

In the headlong rush that -- for so many of us -- passes for life these days, it becomes easy to neglect even those things that matter most. Take this column. Most of my work lately has been about the search for meaning and pleasure in law practice. Yet I haven't posted any new thoughts on the subject, in this space, for longer than I care to admit.

One reason for this, and it's one I'm certain most lawyers can relate to, is this: I feel a need to make every word count. To get it right. To be perfect.

It's funny, isn't it? Like most earthly inhabitants I've never approached perfection in anything I've done, and still, instead of discarding perfection as a standard and coming up with something, well, warmer to replace it, I continue to labor under its harsh and unyielding eye.

Well, I've got news for you. I'm going to take a chance, live dangerously, try writing more frequently in this space and worrying less. If you indulge me, I'll try to offer words that are worthy of your attention -- without putting too much pressure on myself to succeed. Let's begin.

Last month I attended two programs that, for me, emphasized a simple but profound truth: nothing we do or feel is set in stone. Change is constant, and by making peace with it, we come to understand something that is blazingly simple, yet miraculous: We can always begin again. And again. And again.

What I mean is this: At various times we all suffer under the accumulated weight of anger, confusion, anxiety, self-criticism and doubt. We get strung out from the sheer pace of our lives and our work, and come to feel "up against it" -- whatever "it" may be at a given time. Sometimes we lash out. Sometimes we become disdainful of those on "the other side." And sometimes we let it show in ways that may offer some immediate relief, but also chip away at our idea of who we'd like to be.

But we are not condemned to suffer this way. It is part of our great genius -- though it may be a part we constantly overlook -- that we can STOP. Then begin again. We can come to the next moment with fresh eyes and an open heart. We can release our self-loathing and walk forward both freer and more pliant. One lawyer I know, John McQuiston II of Memphis, knows this so well that he wrote a book with a title that says it all: Always We Begin Again. And we do. or at least we can.

We can always begin again, let go and start over afresh. We can leave the blinding thicket of self-defeating thoughts behind, and bring to the next moment an openness to whatever it can show us. Knowing that we can begin again, and seeing that it's really possible, gives us a key to the jail we find ourselves in from time to time.

But back to the programs. The first was a meditation retreat for lawyers in West Cornwall, Connecticut, put on by the Center for Contemplative Mind in Society as part of their Law Project. It was the fourth retreat in a series that began with the Yale Contemplative Practice Retreat in the fall of 1998.

The setting, hard by the Housatonic River in the Berkshires, was gorgeous, calming, perfect. Each of the four days was filled with sitting and walking meditation, yoga, splendid meals and talks by teachers Joseph Goldstein and Grove Burnett.

Much of the time was spent in silence, but there was also time for talking, getting to know one another and exploring the inspiring relationship between contemplative practice and the practice of law.

The second program was a two-day planning meeting for the Healing and the Law Project at the Fetzer Institute in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Lawyers, judges and at least one journalist (me) met to talk about how the Project might unfold in the coming year. Its purpose is to bring more attention to the traditional role of lawyers as healers of society's rifts. For more information, contact Paul Ginter at Fetzer.

I mention these programs for two reasons, really. First, I want you to know about them if you don't already. They're so important, each one pushing incrementally in the direction of transforming law practice. Each is thriving, and getting more and more attention.

Second, is the reason I referred to above: that is, both programs -- one explicitly, the other implicitly -- called attention to the importance in our lives of beginning again. Meditation is about beginning again. Each time the mind drifts away from the focus of awareness, we bring it back, no matter how many times it is required. We thereby train the mind to stay in the present moment -- the only place we live.

But seeing the law as a healing profession and, when your attention strays, being able to bring it back to that orientation, is also a way of beginning again. If your goal is to help your client heal a conflict in her life, then even though you find yourself fantasizing about crushing the opposing party, you can stop, refocus your awareness on the client and remember that it is healing to be seen whole. That (ie., seeing the client whole) should be your first order of business, because when you're really there for the person you're working with, you can help her build connections, melt away resistance that impedes clarity, and ultimately restore a sense of well-being

See you next time.