The Wake Up Call for Lawyers

It’s one thing to be passionate about something that might make for a better world. It’s another thing to be passionate about power or wealth or influence. Probably we all have both kinds of passion. I know I do. But if I pay attention, I can feel the difference.

In the mindfulness teachings, it’s considered unfortunate to nurture passion for anything that could cause harm. There’s no judgment because, like I said, probably we all do because…we’re human. 

The key is knowing the difference. When I feel fiery and also remember...

What is happiness when there’s so much hate and misery? Hate as in hate, but also hate as in anger, irritation, disparagement, aversion? And misery as in desperation? 

And what if these states are contagious? If my response to external hate is to volley right back, aren’t I just perpetuating sorrow? If my response to my own tight heart is to hate myself (or even to quietly chastise, or despair), same question.

But then what’s the “happiness” shift? It has to be to care about those in misery, and to love those who hate. I...

What else can we do but sit down, if we’re trying to cultivate a settled body and mind? What else can we do but sit down and meditate, quietly, each day, noticing our wild mind and our broken heart? 

I wish there was a book or a podcast or even a teacher, to show me another way. Maybe an easier way or at least a quicker one. For sure the good books and podcasts and teachers are wonderful, essential. But they’re still just pointing the way. No one can actually walk the path but me. And y...

I have a sense of good fortune to know a little about mindfulness. I feel like if everyone knew a little, the world would be a better place. So maybe “Is Mindfulness for Everyone?” is a sneaky question because to me, the obvious answer is yes. 

But does everyone agree? No. For sure there are people who feel that paying attention, cultivating kindness, patience, compassion, and generosity, loving everyone, is either not possible or not appropriate. Or maybe not even useful. Are they missing something? To me it feels like, yes, but to them? Again, no.

The...

The great news about mindfulness is that we’re all working on different things. It’s like the law, or any occupation. It keeps things interesting.  

With mindfulness, what this means for me is that at times I’m working on stabilizing my attention. At other times, I’m working on patience or compassion or generosity. There’s always something. 

The important thing is to not get caught up in the misunderstanding that I’m “done” training my mind, training my heart. After all these years, that’s the one thing I know for sure: I’ll never be done...

Sometimes I think, geez, I’ve done enough work. I don’t need to make any more changes. Been there, done that.

And then I bump up against heartache or soreness in my body or anger or a pain in the tutu, as we say in our house. And my reflexive “no!” is right there, and I’m paddling away from the present moment as fast as I can. 

But then at some point, if I’m lucky, I remember: stop paddling! “No” isn’t a response to what is. It’s a response to the world – that and...

There are times when I say something harsh or in anger. This feels hard to face and even harder to write, but it’s true – and maybe for you, too. For me there’s relief in facing and naming it.

The consequences are also hard to face: the harm I’ve caused, and its boomerang effect. I don’t mean in some cosmic way, but right in that moment: the impatience that results in impatience, the scorn that flashes right back to me. Do you know what I mean?

So I’m learning the consequences of anger and...

There’s such a temptation to treat mindfulness practice as something that’s getting me somewhere. But whenever I do that, I fall short. 

Sure, after all these years, I’m a little less reactive and a little happier. My set point has moved, a bit. 

But the distance I’ve come in 30+ years is hilariously short compared to the distance to go. Which is why it’s more peaceful, and useful, to remember that we’re not trying to get anywhere with our practice, and that it’s all about seeing that right now it’s like this. ...

I feel like most of us are trying to be good people: kind, caring, well-disposed towards others. So why doesn’t it turn out that way? Why don’t we have the power to simply be like that all the time?

The problem may be with our mischievous minds. I don’t know about yours, but my mind is easily seduced by gossip, criticism, complaint, and a whole bunch of other nonsense. 

Is this just negativity bias? If so, is there positivity bias? If so, how do we cultivate that? This is what I’m trying to...

I’m great at philosophizing and offering advice about how to be kinder, more compassionate, even wiser. But who am I fooling? My philosophy is theoretical, and honestly, on those topics, what’s anyone’s advice worth?

Not much, because no one really wants to follow anyone else’s advice. But we all want to follow examples, especially the examples of people who know what to say, and do, and how, when someone is hurting, or scared, or hungry. Or at least I do. 

In the end I feel like it’s not complicated. There are plenty...

Faith is an old-fashioned word. Maybe its most well-known meaning is religious. But true faith predates religion. Ancient humans had faith in the earth, the animals, the stars. 

 I don’t know much about that kind of faith, but I do know one thing: that I have faith in my own heart and mind, and in yours. I have faith in our ability to love, and to care, and to see, moment by moment, that we’re all just here for a moment, and that we’re all in this together – whatever is happening, and there’s a lot. And I...

It’s astonishingly easy for me to lie. “I didn’t say that, I didn’t mean that, you misunderstood.” “I’m sorry you feel that way,” instead of, “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you.” 

 I admire people who are honest about their impact and can say, through embarrassment and even shame, “It’s my fault. I see how that hurt you. I’m sorry. How can I make things right?” I admire myself when I’m honest like that, too.

Even more than admiration, though, when I’m honest, apologize, and repair, there’s freedom. The heart opens and the mind...

The fool can beloved or not. Beloved fools are open-hearted and cultivate “don’t know” mind. Not-so-beloved fools think they know something, or know better, or are better. 

 What I can see, so far, is that takes courage and fortitude to watch closely enough, over a long enough period of time (maybe a lifetime?), to see when foolishness is taking a beloved form, and when not. And to be humble when “not.” Which in my own investigation is *not* as infrequently as I’d like.

 Have you done this yet? If not, that’s today’s invitation. Take...

It’s one thing to practice and study mindfulness. It’s a great thing. It’s another to act accordingly.

 What happens when you’re in the courtroom or conference room or family room? Does your heart stay open, or clamp shut? Is your mind filled with hate, or love?

When my heart is shut or my mind is filled (or even tinged) with hate, sadly, I act accordingly. When my heart is open and my mind is filled with love, or even tipped in that direction, I tend to act according to that. 

In the e...

It’s not like we don’t know we’re supposed to do that. It’s not like I don’t know. But it so much easier, maybe even reflexive, to notice the faults of others. 

To be fair, it’s also part of legal training: to look for the faults, or the fault lines. To always be on the lookout for what could go wrong, what could blow up, and who could be blamed. What a training.

But only a training. Another training is to look at myself – for all of us to look at ourselves, a...

I notice that far too often, I let my mind run wild. I don’t mean I’m completely undisciplined – I have a meditation practice and you probably do, too. So we’re not completely undisciplined. But I don’t know about you: when I look at the news, my mind tends to run wild.

Looking more closely, though, I realize it’s not so much mind running wild, as heart running scared. I see or hear something, and my heart automatically runs. Or contracts. And the mind follows, and the wildness starts. 

But wildness isn’t a forgo...

My general reaction to those little life lessons, the AFOGs, has not been delight. Instead, I’ve often felt affronted or like I’ve messed up or failed. 

I’m starting to see how to meet those lessons a little differently, though: with joy. Which means I have to laugh at myself, and at the ancient, cement-like, internal structures that feel like they kept me safe…and are no longer useful. 

Which isn’t easy, but is at least more and more possible. Because no matter how hard the lesson – no matter how painful those knocks on the...

It feels supportive to share about what we’ve read or come to understand about kindness and connection. I’m as guilty as the next person of doing that – probably more guilty. Just ask me – I’m happy to share. 

But the real wisdom is in walking the walk. If I’m talking about how we belong to one another but in my next move, I’m in a “we/they” conversation, how is that helpful? If I’m not only acknowledging but embracing everyone, things can shift. 

This kind of mindfulness “on the ground” feels aspirational. It als...

Creating happiness when so much seems to be crumbling before our very eyes – sometimes that feels like a challenge. But what works for me is the moment-to-moment feedback loop. 

When I speak and act with goodness, even in conflictual or adversarial moments, the goodness makes me feel happier. Not happier because I’ve given something up – I’m not doing that – I’m standing my ground – but happier because I’m standing my ground with generosity or curiosity. 

When I forget to do that – when hatred or greed gets the better of me, which is definitely not never...

Here I am, again, my heart all bound up in some petty dispute. For the millionth time, I see, and feel, tightness, closed-up-ness: this old heart trying to protect itself. It takes so much effort. It feels like I’m shoving an old bureau in front of its door. 

But seeing is understanding. Only when I summon the courage to see that the door is closed, the mouth is set, the eyes are no longer soft or loving – only then can I let go. So, in a way, seeing is not only understanding. Seeing is also healing. 

Sometimes I feel like we take for granted the privilege we have as lawyers, law professors, judges, and mediators. Or that we’re not worthy of our power. Or that I’m not.

Because what is privilege if we forget that we’re all in this together, and that everything we say and do, matters? And what is power unless we use it to clarify our minds? Or access, if we don’t remember to first, access our own hearts?

The more attentive I am, especially to this mind running amuck, the more stable I feel. If I’m off on my latest adventure, surfing for that pair of shoes I just have to have or baking those cookies I just have to eat, there’s so much tug and pull. If I can catch those impulses before they take over, I still might buy the shoes. But at least I don’t feel so consumed. 

The mindfulness metaphor is that of a mountain. The invitation is to stop chasing our tails – the gentlest possible way of naming wh...

I can take a stand on just about anything. It’s not just that I’m trained to argue. It’s also that as a human, I have preferences. And they don’t necessarily match what the world offers up. 

So I’m as guilty of quarreling as the next person. As guilty of holding fast to my position, wanting to be right, wanting to win, as anyone. 

Until I remember my fate. Which is the same as yours. Which is the same as everyone’s. Which is to be here, but just for a minute. 

The problem with blame is that it cuts into the heart. When I blame someone, I can feel it like a knife, cutting me as much as it cuts them. Blame sets the scene for conflict, and there’s already so much conflict.

But when thoughts of blame arise, I also notice that it’s also possible to let them go. And when I remember to do that, it’s possible to see underneath, and to realize that these thoughts only arise because of how much I care. 

I blame my partner or a friend or one...

Sometimes I don’t realize how powerful my state of mind is. I walk into the house or a meeting with something “on my mind,” and whatever that is, constructs my experience. I have no inherent animosity towards the person in the room, but because of a recent, frustrating, call, for example, frustration infuses the next conversation and can even become its whole form.

If I’m someone with long-term, unskillful, habits of mind (and maybe we all are to a certain extent), those unskillful habits can form a kind of pattern of, say, walking into most rooms wi...

I love mindfulness, partly for its promise of liberation, but also for the ways it helps me on a very practical level, to navigate through life. The lists and aspirations are a huge support, and a kind of blessing, especially right now.

There’s another way to explore mindfulness, though, and that’s through a poetic lens. That lens isn’t more or less supportive, or more or less of a blessing. It’s just a different way of looking. The poetry I’m most interested in is the Dhammapada, a collection of verses that offers all of the tea...

Seems like setting an intention to be kind and to not cause harm would be a simple thing. But then look at the world, and all of the devastating consequences that happen even when the responsible person claims their intentions were good. 

What if we paid attention to intention at the beginning, middle, and end? Meaning, before we spoke or acted, while that was happening, and later? And if we discovered that we’d caused harm, what if we apologized and made amends? 

It might not be easy (at least for me). But it’s a form...

It’s funny the way we toss around our points of view, as if we’re entitled to any which one. Or at least we feel like we are. It’s a free country, right?

But wouldn’t it be better if we were more deliberate? And chose a point of view that included caring about everyone, and all the critters, and also the planet?  And also took into account that whether or not we adopt a wise, compassionate, point of view, is largely in our hands? And has consequences? 

Because it does. Our point of view ma...

Sometimes I wonder if “wise livelihood” is possible in the law. Can we support ourselves and our organizations and not deal in intoxicants, poisons, weapons, or humans…given the many nuanced interpretations of those words? Including the ways we might, from some perspective we can’t quite see, inadvertently be dealing in one of those ways? 

And can we ever completely do no harm, in our adversary system? In our divided country? Our impacted world? 

Maybe. And then I wonder, what if no one does that perfectly, but everyone stays committed? That alone feels like a huge dea...

The mind isn’t naturally cloudy. It’s naturally clear and luminous. If you’re in the habit of watching a sunset or looking into the faces of children or elders or the mirror, you probably already know: luminosity is right there, right here.

But if you look in the mirror and don’t see your own luminous mind – and heart - they’re all one system – maybe the clouds have rolled in. And in that case, maybe, just for a moment or hour or day or week, clear the sky, and protect your beautiful mind. Take a break from n...

There are so many subtle and not-subtle ways to disrespect other people. When I do it, I can feel the boomerang effect of disrespect. It creates a field. I feel like we’re seeing that play out in Minnesota, in Washington, in the world. It’s a terrible thing.

There’s only one way I know to be truly respectful: see everyone, including myself, as worthy of my patience, generosity, and love. Listen. Care. When I practice those qualities, I feel positive reverberations. And who knows how far out they flow?

And yes, there are people...

I have enough. Sometimes I have to remind myself, but it is a fact. It’s not in question. There’s no world – at least in this moment – where my family goes hungry or sleeps on the street. How about you and yours?

There is enough, for everyone, if only we can be generous and compassionate. I feel like that’s also a fact. But sometimes it’s hard for me to remember when so many aren’t getting their share, or any share, right now. How can we remember there is enough, and help make that a reality? 

I’m looking around. And it looks to me like there’s just so much harm. Not only our government, but also the ways it’s easy to mimic what’s happening on the national level, even when we don’t mean to: forgetting how much harm we can cause by not offering kindness to everyone (or by forgetting what “everyone” means).

What about looking for ways to not cause harm? And every time we see them, not only not causing harm, but doing something kind? Including for ourselves: what about looking for ways to do kind things for our...

Happy New Year. I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to 2025, but I’d say 2026 isn’t starting off with any fewer challenges. 

Challenges or no challenges, though, we can set our personal tone. How about 2026 for a tone of kindness? What if we commit to talk, write, and post, one-on-one or to our ten million followers (or 460, in my case), without causing harm, or lying, or being unkind?

I don’t know what if – what happens if we do that. But let’s try it. It won’t be too hard because probably most of us are being...

Hopefully there will be small moments of peace as we enter the winter solstice in the global north, at the end of a challenging year. It will be dark…but there’s darkness everywhere. And there’s also light.

Which is the invitation of mindfulness: to be that light. The question is, how? How to be the light, for others and for ourselves? 

In the stillness of the solstice - in the silence of the heart - we have the answer. Trust yours. Take things gently as the skies darken, or lighten. Be kind, including (especia...

Here we are in the heart of the holidays, and there’s also so much else going on. For me it’s crucial not to rely on finding moments of calm, but instead to remember to create them.

We all probably do that when we can by settling into the couch with a good cup of whatever. Which is beautiful. But what about also cultivating a state of mind that’s not couch-dependent? 

One way to do that is with a little concentration. Not the focused, bearing-down type that we use at work, but concentration as in r...

If mindfulness begins with training our attention, what’s the recipe for its other components, courage and grace?

For me, it begins with stillness. I get quiet and sometimes lovingkindness shows up. But sometimes what appears is a parade of horribles: anger, jealousy, greed, and their buddies. And all I can do is cringe.

When that happens and I can stay put, it’s because of courage: that moment of feeling cringy, knowing I’m feeling cringy, and looking anyway. And staying with whatever the cringy thing is (anger, fear...

It’s almost Thanksgiving in the U.S. so we’re supposed to be practicing gratitude. want to be doing that all the time, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Do you know what I mean?

The world is just in a difficult place, and the trickle-down effect is pretty powerful. But even so, what if we take this one week, and turn it into a practice?

And what if the practice was asking the question, over and over, all day long, what can I be grateful for in this person, right now? A...

The thing about mindfulness practice is the benefits. I mean, that’s not the only thing - it’s not a benefit-driven endeavor. Hopefully there’s a little altruism mixed in.

But the benefits are big. First, there’s the calm that arises when the body is still and the mind is quiet. That’s worth all the effort in the world, and it’s portable, too: I notice I can take it with me into my day, which is good for me, and good for everyone else, too.

The other benefit is the insight. Insight into...

Congratulations to Tuesday’s election winners. For me it was a practice moment: feeling joy and hope, and not turning those into something else with regard to the losers. 

Which is a practice I can’t do without my basic, present moment attention practice. Which always begs the question of how to cultivate that. If mindfulness is present moment attention, courage, and grace, how do we cultivate the first one?

It’s simple (and not easy): we give ourselves time for stillness. To me this is mostly like giving myself a treat every day. Mostly but not...