Eyes to See

I started a new job 2 months ago. I'll spare the details for now except to say that I now work steady hours at a steady location for a steady 5 days a week. After 3 years with no routine, it was a welcome change, but one I'm still getting used to. 

One of the biggest things I've noticed is how quickly you can get sucked into the hum drum, this is my life, I do it everyday, it's not that exciting mentality. You start getting comfortable, or complacent, and forget to notice what's around you. It's easier to notice the remarkable, or not so remarkable, when you are out of a routine, out of your element, and in a new city all together. (Some of the supreme joys of traveling - hyper alertness and limitless serendipity.) But I was now in a routine, in my element, and in the same city. 

The job change also brought with it a temporary loss of identity as I tried to steer my life onto a new path with a new position. And, I turned one year older, doh. 

It was on my birthday, in fact, with these thoughts still troubling me, that I learned life may not be so much about where you go or what you do as in what you see. 

For my birthday, I met up for lunch with my brother (new perk) at Bombay Pizza Co (definite perk) located on Main and Walker. My brother was running a little behind, so I sat on the patio enjoying the nice day and waited. It was then I noticed a man with a camera. A nice one. He was taking photos. I turned my head to face the direction of his lens to see what he was trying to capture. And I saw it.

The noon sun reflecting off the glass skyscrapers causing the spring flowers to glow just as the metro rail drove by. It was a perfect shot.

View from Bombay Pizza Co., Main & Walker

(PS it was nothing like the shot above. It was taken at the same place but different time, different camera, and most importantly different photographer!)

And that's when it hit me. What else had I been missing in my new hum drum life? What else had I failed to see simply because I didn't have the eyes to see it?! If the camera had not directed me to the view, would I have even noticed? And if I had noticed, would I have deemed it worthy of a photo?

So with my new eyes, I'm trying to find the joy in the hum drum. In the 30 minute bus ride, in the 6 block walk, during my 1 hour lunch, and in my return trip home.

So far, this is what I've seen:

• A sidewalk is just a sidewalk until you decide to somersault! (This was not me. I was the one awkwardly walking past trying to pretend this was completely normal behavior. But we both knew it wasn't. And we both laughed.)
• A morning bus ride is just a bus ride until a man keeps looking your way and smiling and you start racking your brain on if you know him, but conclude you assuredly do not and then the evening bus ride is just a bus ride until this same man who you've now determined is creepy sits next to you! (Ear buds - fast!)
• A walk to lunch is just a walk until you get stopped by a microphone and camera for some vox pop (you can Google that).
• A lunch is just a lunch until you're working on your tan at Discovery Green watching people learn how to paddle board.
• And a lunch at Discovery Green soon becomes just another lunch until you meet a date there and he buys it for you - even after you insulted his college football team but before you realized he actually played on that team. (Doh - palm to the face.)
• A walk to the bus stop is just a walk until you get some American piropos - What up Beauty?!
• And finally, a Friday is thankfully a Friday (always), until you realize that Power Failure you were called about last night was real and you, in fact, do not have to go to work despite the normal weather and perfectly good day. 

Discovery Green: Day 1

In your hum drum, routine of a day - what do you see?

After all:

"The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes." - Marcel Proust

I couldn't have said it better.

Client Reminders

Every now and then I have clients that teach me something. Their stories remain with me long after I've forgotten their names.

Like the woman who suffered severely from anxiety due to a traumatic past, but showed up with her loving husband in their Sunday best. Her anxiety was so great she panicked like a child the moment she entered the hearing room and could only be consoled by the presence of her faithful, hard-working husband. The sincere love and concern this man had for his wife and his watchful care over her despite her debilitating condition and inability to give equally in their marriage continues to impress me.

Then there was the middle-aged man whose income most years exceeded mine but because of his line of work and a leave of absence to take care of a terminally ill father was left without any medical coverage in his time of need. He was a former athlete, who at one point even ran the Pikes Peak Marathon (!), and was now struck with terminal cancer and drowning in medical debt. This once strong and very capable man broke down in sobs after his hearing and paid no attention to my outstretched hand as he enveloped me in the strongest hug I have yet to receive from a client.

This week I had another such story. I was returning from a short vacation and ready to dive into a day packed with hearings. I was feeling the post-vacation blues and, for some reason, a bit of the "woe is me"s and I was happy to be "anxiously engaged" and mentally occupied.

My client was a young man in his early twenties but due to several serious medical conditions he was left with a body that was underweight and mangled and in excruciating pain. I had to physically assist him into the hearing room. Little testimony was taken as his poor body spoke volumes. As I helped this man back to his loved ones, I was struck with the very timely lessons that are sometimes given to us. The stark reminders that while life is never perfect, there are certainly things to be grateful for. I felt a bit of the love our Savior must have for these tender souls with their disfigured bodies. I was reminded that while on the Earth, He blessed and healed bodies like my client's and at times even wept. Though my body is strong and capable, I was reminded that, while not physically on the Earth, He still has power to heal my heart.

Immediately following this hearing, I had another client, a one year old, who due to incidents at birth was left with a similarly mangled body. Although unable to effectively use his right side, he was free from pain, and was all smiles. He was able to show us his disfigured high five and, though only one, legitimately winked at me several times throughout the hearing. The ladies better watch out when he grows up. His smiles despite his physical limitations continued to teach me the lesson I needed this week.

So today, I am grateful. I am grateful to have a working, functioning body that allows me to get up everyday and earn a living. I'm grateful to have a job with medical coverage, flexibility, and the opportunity to travel. I am grateful for a family legacy of education, healthy living, independence, hard work, and Christian values. I am grateful to know there is a Savior of the world who atoned for our sorrows, heartaches, loneliness, and physical ailments. I am grateful to know that through His atonement we can all be made whole, whether in this life or in the next, physically as well as emotionally. I am grateful to know that we have a loving Heavenly Father who knows us and who blesses us with timely reminders and lessons tailored specifically to our needs in our time of need. And I am grateful to my clients, for teaching me so powerfully.

Dallas Detour

Sometimes I have work schedules that don't make sense. Like why, for example, would I have hearings scheduled in Ardmore, Oklahoma when there are two very capable attorneys stationed in Dallas and one in Oklahoma City? Ardmore doesn't even have an airport! But such is the case sometimes.

Because Ardmore was still about a 2 hour drive from the nearest airport and flying (commuting to the airport, waiting for flight, etc.) would eat up almost as much time as driving to the nearest airport, I opted to take my trusty corolla instead and make my own schedule.

My schedule couldn't have been more perfectly planned, for on the way home I got to make a detour to this beautiful place.

Latter-day Saints, or Mormons, believe worship in holy temples to be a great source of strength and peace. While there is an LDS temple located in Houston, it was temporarily closed for the month of September.  I was overjoyed that my work travels had, in a round about way, sent me here.

I mentioned before that some stories cannot be shared. Another such story occurred this weekend that broke my heart, but more importantly the hearts of those I love. My heartache is nothing compared to theirs, I'll be the first to admit. Despite this, I saw very clearly the grief, evil, and misfortune that at times seems to combat us on all sides. I knew that, for myself at least, I needed to seek some sort of refuge from the storm. And it is here where I found it. Even as I entered the parking lot, I could feel my shoulders relax and peace flood my heart.

As I evaluated the proceeding weekend, I realized that if darkness can exist, so then must light. Otherwise how would we know what darkness is if we had nothing to compare it to. So I began to look for goodness and for small slivers of hope breaking through what at times seems an impenetrable wall of resistance. And this is what I found:

• I found a man who had just reclaimed his Saturday mornings only to offer one more up for the sake of helping someone else by delivering Meals on Wheels. 
• I found a friend drop everything in an instant to be with a loved one in need.
• I found a family invite a lonely woman to lunch. 
• I found a man who chose to live worthily so he could be called upon in a moment's notice to give a priesthood blessing to someone in despair.
• I found a friend asking after a man he's never met but cares for anyway.
• I found a mini van full of kids eager to help find somebody to love. 
• I found smiles, hugs, selflessness, and a whole lot of love. 

I suppose darkness is all around us if that's what we choose to see. But again, if there is darkness, there must be light. If there is evil, there must be good. If there is despair, there must be hope. If there is confusion, there must be certainty. If there are falsehoods, there must be truth. Sometimes these things are hard to see. Light and truth aren't nearly as captivating or intriguing as their opposites. They aren't nearly so loud or as demanding. But goodness, light, and truth are all there, if we choose to see it. 

And for those that may be too burdened by grief to see it now, there is hope and there are good things to come. Just hang on! Perhaps our detours don't seem to make much sense when they are forced upon us, but perhaps, maybe in due time?, they too will lead us to a place, somewhere, that offers peace, comfort, and refuge from the storm. 

What goodness have you found this week?

For more on: The Infinite Power of Hope

For more on: LDS Temples

Things Said (and Unsaid)

It's been three months, almost to the date, since my last post.
Life got pretty exciting.
So exciting that I didn't have time to write.
So exciting that even if I did have the time, I wouldn't have been able to focus.

Sometimes we have stories we can share. Sometimes we have stories we can't. (And often times, let's be honest, we have stories we shouldn't share but do anyway).

Some stories cannot be shared because when we are in the middle of them they consume us. They hit every emotion possible and the intensity at which we feel those emotions leaves our head spinning. All we can do is hold on and see how it will all unfold.

Some stories cannot be shared even after they have ended because they are too dear, too personal, too full of love, too full of pain.

And sometimes, stories cannot be shared because there is the hope that, despite reaching a climax and conclusion, there is more to the story. There is the hope that even though the story's end appears to be well-written and finalized, perhaps it's really just a beginning, a beginning to a much longer and even greater story.

The story of the past three months cannot be shared for all of the above reasons. I have other stories to tell though (if anyone still wants to read them), but I'm struggling to find the strength to speak.

Until I find my voice again, I thought I'd let someone else do the talking...

Judge:  Are we on the record?
Hearing monitor:  Yes
Judge: [to no one in particular] There's an attorney from Dallas that I see and I never know what hair color she is going to have when I see her. Sometimes it's red, sometimes it's blonde, sometime's it's brown....but with Becki, she's consistent, I always know it's going to be red. I just thought I'd get that on the record.


Niece, age 3: [at Thanksgiving Dinner] This turkey is dead. But it used to be alive right?
Us: Yes
Niece: Did the lawyer kill it?


Judge: What do you do all day?
Claimant: Nothin'....Sir, I'm a crackhead.


Judge: Good morning counselor. It's always a pleasure to see you. I see you got the pink shirt memo.


Client: [to Security Guard] I found my attorney in the parking lot, isn't that great? And wouldn't you know, I got the prettiest attorney in the parking lot.


Unknown Man in Lobby: If you were stuck with a tiger, lion, and camel and had a gun with one shot, which would you shoot?
Unsuspecting Victim in Lobby: [shrugs shoulders]
Unknown Man: I'd shoot the tiger, erase the "line" and smoke the camel.


Security Guard: You're just a baby attorney, aren't ya?


Unknown Man in Lobby: [as I walk by] You need a wedding band.


Judge: Is this some kind of joke?
Me: Uh....
Judge: Jerrilyn and Becki Lyn?
Client: It's pronounced Jerr-Lyn, no i.
Judge: Ok. Then for the remainder of the hearing you will be Beck-Lyn.
*Client's name changed above.


Conclusions that can be drawn from the above statements:

Judges like consistency.
Lawyers kill birds.
Crackheads are honest.
Female judges pay attention to your wardrobe while male judges stick to hair color
Older clients are flirty.
Older men in small towns think they're funny.
I apparently look like a baby (again).
I need to get married.
And certain judges like to tease female baby attorneys with red hair and double first names by refusing to call them by their last name which is proper protocol.

Liberty Jail





When I was in Kansas City in February, I made a stop at a place called Liberty Jail. An ironic name for a jail I know. This jail is an important part of early Mormon history, but perhaps not for reasons you might think.

 

 

It was at this jail, in the brutal winter of 1838-39, that the first president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and Mormon Prophet, Joseph Smith, was unjustly incarcerated for four months. He, and the other early church leaders that were arrested with him, suffered harsh cold, hunger, and sickness in their cramped quarters with a ceiling height of just six feet. Their suffering was made worse with the knowledge that their families and other Saints were being driven from their homes under Missouri Governor Lilburn Bogg's mandate that "the Mormons...must be exterminated or driven from the state."

 



 

This was one of the darkest times in Joseph's Smith's short life. Five years after this incident, he would be found in yet another jail under unjust charges and would lose his life at the hands of a mob.

 

Despite the evil and awfulness that occurred at Liberty Jail, Mormons or Latter-day Saints choose to remember it for the beautiful lessons that were taught there. This is why the jail is now restored and protected by the Visitor's Center you see below.

 



I arrived on a Thursday evening and found with delight that I would have my own personal tour. I had been here several years before but wanted to revisit it in hopes that I might remember a few things. A lovely sister missionary from the state of Washington was my tour guide.

As I learned about the events leading up to Joseph Smith's incarceration here and the trial of his faith as he endured the conditions, I was reminded that all is not lost in times of despair however brutally painful our despair may be. Of course, no one wants to hear that, myself included. Joseph Smith even cried out in his agony, "O God, where art thou?...How long shall thy hand be stayed..?"

I'm sure we have all thought this at some point in our lives. I've always known that there is a God. I've always known that He is near and will not abandon me. But I have not always agreed with His timing or what He may allow to happen in my life. There have been times when I too have asked, "Can't I be done yet? Haven't I learned enough by now?" Apparently, I still have a ways to go.

While I have never doubted the existence of God and His love for me in times of trial, I do often forget to turn to Him for strength. After all, I'm an independent go-getter, I can fix things on my own. But by forgetting or refusing to turn to Him, I miss out on His support and the lessons He would have me learn.

Joseph Smith turned to God in his despair and was given, among other lessons, this one that is often quoted by Latter-day Saints.

If thou art called to pass through tribulation...if thou art in perils among robbers; if thou art in perils by land or by sea...If thou art accused with all manner of false accusations; if thine enemies fall upon thee; And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

 The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he?

 Therefore, hold on thy way...

These words may not be very comforting in times of despair. Who cares about experience when you're drowning in sorrow? But the part I do find comforting is that Christ "descended below them all." As a Christian, I believe that Christ not only died for us (every single one of us) but that he atoned for us (every single one of us) in the Garden of Gethsemane. This means that He not only suffered for our sins but for our heartaches and sorrows, our longings and injustices. He, who was perfect, suffered all that He might "succor those in need." He knows what we are going through because He has been there. He has felt what we feel. The grace that comes through this atonement is an enabling power that offers divine strength and love. In times of despair, if we turn to God instead of away from Him, we can feel of this strength, this love, and somehow, day by day, we can make it through even the toughest of times.

I have had an opportunity this month to reflect on the atonement of Jesus Christ as I've taught this topic to my 15 and 16 year olds in Sunday school class. I try not to wax religious on my blog but found it hard not to given my stop in Kansas City and the approaching Easter holiday.

While I would really, really appreciate an easier way - perhaps a Get Out of Jail Free card, I am grateful to know that through the atonement of Jesus Christ I can find peace and comfort and strength to face the heartaches and challenges of my day. It may require constant prayer and constant searching, but I can make it step by step as I walk with my Savior and become ever closer to Him. The power of the atonement is real. Of that I testify.

For more on Lessons from Liberty Jail

For more on Jesus Christ

Speaking Out

Rough Start

Growing up a shy introvert, speaking out has always been hard for me. In high school, our English classes would have book discussions where our grade was determined by our participatory comments. Each student was usually required to make at least two comments. I loathed these discussions. I was perfectly willing to take a zero rather than make a silly comment just to get a check mark. I distinctly remember one day in Junior AP English class when we had one of these dreaded book discussions. I was the only one left in the class who had not received two check marks. The teacher knew this and indirectly called me out on it. The classmate sitting next to me was BJ Symons. (He would go on to play QB for Texas Tech with a brief stint at the Houston Texans.) He was trying to help me out and told me to "Just say something!" I refused.

While I have come a long way since high school, speaking out is still not natural for me. I feel it is a challenge that continues to confront me with increasing difficulty, but a challenge I feel I am supposed to continue to overcome. In law school I had to stare down this fear of speaking out every day in classes where professors are not always forgiving and do not always ask easy questions. It is the same today. I face judges who like to argue and call you out on your shortcomings. Again, while I have come a long way, I feel more challenges await that will continue to test my ability and courage to speak out.



Religious Freedom

When I was in Kansas City a few weeks ago for a legal conference, there was a panel discussion on religious freedom. In the past several years we have seen an erosion of religious liberties and expression. The panel discussion referenced the Hobby Lobby case (a suit against the federal government mandate to provide contraceptives, including abortifacient drugs, in employee insurance plans - arguments to be heard by the US Supreme Court later this month) and the NM Photography case (a suit against a photographer who declined to photograph a commitment ceremony between a same-sex couple as it violated her religious beliefs - NM courts said she must pay a fine for refusing). 

During the course of the discussion, one panelist focused on the need to speak out. He said those that are chipping away at religious freedom and expression are not afraid to speak. They do so loudly and employ all manner of social media. They call supporters of religious freedom bigots and use intimidation. After all this, he says, what do we hear from the other side? Nothing but crickets chirping. No one wants to be called a bigot but we must speak up. He referenced a case in his home state of Kansas. He said that state legislators look to social media to see what is being discussed and consider it when making their decisions. He said if we are not talking, our cause will not be heard.

I tried my hand at speaking out via Facebook after the 2012 presidential election. As a single, educated woman I was tired of being lumped together in the same category as other similarly situated women that I did not agree with and who did not represent me. I debated on stating my beliefs so publicly. I'm not sure what kind of a reaction I was expecting or fearing. And despite the fact that my statement was posted on the internet as opposed to given in a public speech, I still worried. Needlessly, however, as nothing happened but a show of support from friends.*

The panelist at the conference suggested we first become informed about religious freedom. We befriend those of other faiths who have similar concerns. Then we start talking. On social media, on blogs, and in our communities.

Throughout the panel discussion the quote from Edmund Burke kept echoing in my head.

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men [and women] to do nothing."

Malala's Example

I am currently reading the book I am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban by Malala Yousafzai. At age 11, Malala was speaking out for girl's education at the risk of her own life. In addition, she was blogging anonymously through the BBC about going to school in Taliban-controlled Pakistan. She was meeting with ambassadors demanding they help in the fight for girl's education. She was interviewed by journalists on a regular basis. Because she was willing to speak out against the Taliban, unlike many in her valley, she was hunted down and shot in the head. At age 16, the Taliban have been unable to silence her and she continues to speak out. She has been nominated twice for the Nobel Peace Prize.

On Friday, speaking to a group of youth in London, she said, "I could either not speak and die, or speak and then die. I chose the second one." **

As I read her story, there is no doubt in my mind that one young woman can change the world.



Keep Talking

I heard once that in order for those who are soft spoken to know they are speaking at the correct volume, they need to feel like they are shouting. Perhaps the same applies to speaking out. For introverts to know they are saying enough, they need to feel like they have said too much.

 

Wherever you may be, for whatever cause you may be fighting, join the conversation and "just say something!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

For more on religious freedom:

- Like FB Group Support Religious Freedom

-Visit Becket Fund & American Religious Freedom

-For those in California, visit Pacific Justice Institute 

 

 

 

* My FB comment:

I am a single, educated woman with an advanced degree. There's been lots of talk about my demographic in the past few weeks and I just wanted to be clear on a few things.

I believe in God. I believe in life. I believe that marriage is a divine institution between one man and one woman. I believe in chastity before marriage and fidelity after. And even though I may be a practicing attorney, I can think of no job I want more than to be a stay-at-home mom.

If these “social issues” in which I believe mark me with the additional labels of ignorant, backwards, stuck in the 1950s, etc., then so be it. In this ever-changing world in which we live, I still believe there are truths and constants that remain, however unpopular they may be.

November 9, 2012 

Reconciling Faith, Gender & Career

I was raised by a college-educated mother who chose to stay home and raise her five children full-time. I was blessed immensely by my mother's decision and appreciated her sacrifice and availability. Her job was not easy. Amidst raising five children, my mother decided to return to school and earn a Master's degree in education. I remember this well as I was in junior high school at the time and required to help out by cooking one meal a week for the family when my mom was at class (or at least that's how I remember it). Perhaps this is the only time in my life that I cooked on a regular basis.

Despite earning her advanced degree, my mother had no immediate plans to return to the workforce. That return would not come for another ten years when her youngest was on his way out of elementary school. Even though my mother did not work when I was in her home, she taught all of her children by example the power of education. All of her children have gone on to receive advanced degrees, except for the youngest and only because he's still too young.

As a school teacher, I never really felt the need for a career plan (although maybe I should have had one?). But as an attorney learning to lean, I find it imperative. This is new territory for me and there's even a small sense of guilt as I contemplate my future. I had always hoped that by now I would be whisked away in eternal marriage bliss and stay home and make babies. Even though this is not the case, I still feel like I need to consider this option as I move forward in my career. I'm beginning to realize a lot of women do this as well. We plan for something we hope will come even though it may not be for ten more years down the road. I'm not saying that we shouldn't hope to have a marriage and a family one day (I do!) but I'm wondering if the hope for it holds us back sometimes and prevents us from accomplishing great things in the meantime.

I believe that "there is no superior career, and no amount of money, authority, or public acclaim [that] can exceed the ultimate rewards of family."* I, therefore, believe that being a full-time mom is a highly noble calling. I applaud my mother, sisters, and friends for accepting this calling even though it is not always easy. I hope to join them one day.

Despite knowing this, I am beginning to see that some women may be called to work. Even if they can afford to stay at home and even if it it's not their first choice. I was conveying this idea of being called to work to another young, single, female attorney of faith last weekend. I felt almost blasphemous expressing these thoughts, like I was betraying principles I've embraced, believed and taught.

One joy of being a woman is that we have a myriad of paths to choose from. Many of us will jump back and forth between these paths several times through out our lifetime. There is no rigid course we must follow. The key to determining which path is best at which time for us individually is personal revelation. My path may not be the same as yours and that's okay as long as it is the path I am supposed to be on.

With these ideas of some women being called to work and the importance of personal revelation swirling around my head, I found a wonderful example in Noelle Pikus Pace, the 2014 Olympic silver medalist in the women's skeleton.

According to her Mormon.org profile, she retired from the sport after 2010 because she wanted to focus on her family. But in 2012, she and her husband felt she needed to return to the sport one more time. After fasting and praying their decision was confirmed. Now she is an Olympic silver medalist. Though her career as a working mom was brief, it was fueled by inspiration, and she now has the stage and credentials to be a powerful force for good.

Though we may not all be Olympic athletes and our spheres of influence are often much smaller, I believe that women of faith have much to contribute not only to our homes but our communities and professions.

"The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity.”**

Though following a career path may at times seem in juxtaposition with the above quote, I believe women of faith can and should permeate their influence in the workforce as well.

So if your current path is calling you to reach out, step up, and lean in whether that be at home, school or work - dare I say - Do it! We need women of faith leading, guiding, inspiring, and contributing wherever they may be. Don't limit yourself by the unknown around the corner. And if you are called to work for a time or a lifetime, excel at what you do by remembering who you are and what good you can accomplish.




*Elder D. Todd Christofferson: The Moral Force of Women

**Margaret D. Nadauld: The Joy of Womanhood

Learning to Lean

I distinctly remember the first time I told someone I was an attorney. I had just flown into the Salt Lake City airport after accepting my first job and was about to start 3 weeks of new hire training. It was at the rental car counter. The agent asked,

"What brings you to town - business or pleasure?"

"Business."

"What do you do?" Pause. Hesitation.

"I'm an attorney."

Wow, that sounded weird. I held my breath. Waiting for the agent to react. Waiting for him to tell me I couldn't really be an attorney. Waiting for him to see right through me and dismiss me as a fraud.

But he didn't. Whew. Test passed.

In the weeks that followed, I continued to struggle with the questions what do you do and why are you traveling. I wished people would stop asking me. I didn't want to tell them I was an attorney. I mean an attorney is someone who knows everything about the law, who is articulate, who is outgoing, who exudes confidence and charisma. I was not those things.

I sat next to a lady on an airplane once. When she asked what I did I replied, "I'm an attorney. I know I don't look like one in my jeans. I like to travel casual." Why did I have to explain myself? Did I really expect people to think that attorneys only and always wear suits?

Slowly but surely I got comfortable telling people I was an attorney. I realized that most attorneys don't know everything. Some attorneys are actually introverts. And yes, they don't always travel in suits.

But it did take some time. The first CLE meeting I went to was after I had passed the bar but before I secured my first job. I walked into the building with trepidation wondering why I had come. I saw the sign-in table, surveyed the lecture room, and then walked right back out. I couldn't stay. I got all the way to the parking lot before I realized I was being an idiot. I was a licensed attorney. I belonged in that room like every other attorney in there.

I remember one day in law school between classes I stopped at the restroom. I remember looking at the mirror and thinking, what if I was no longer held back by fear, anxiety or self-doubt? What if I was truly free? What if we all were? How powerful would we be? How much would we accomplish?

Recently, I've felt a pull to lean in to my career. To accept who and where I am and make the most of it. I've struggled with the how and the what but the feeling is there.

I gave into these feelings, fought my anxiety, and leaned in by taking a trip to Kansas City for a legal conference this past weekend where I was surrounded by bright, successful, and well articulate men and women. While I felt more comfortable than that first CLE meeting I attended, I still felt the need to explain to one man sitting next to me that I've only been practicing for two years. Another man sat next to me and introduced himself. We started talking and I asked what he did. He was the solicitor general of Missouri. A prime example of why sometimes I wonder if I'm really in the right place.

In law school, I had three quotes I hung on my mirror to pump me up when things got tough.

1. Adidas' Impossible is Nothing quote*
2. Joshua 1:9
3. A quote by President Thomas S. Monson:

Do not pray for tasks equal to your abilities, but pray for abilities equal to your tasks. Then the performance of your task will be no miracle, but you will be the miracle.

I am by no means a miracle, but I certainly know how to pray.

Sheryl Sandberg has asked the question: What would you do if you weren't afraid?

And so I ask you. What would you do? How would you act? Who would you be?


*Adidas quote:

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.

Controlling the Uncontrollable

For those of you that know me well, you know that I'm a planner. I like to know what is going to happen tomorrow, next week, and even next month sometimes. As a young child at bedtime, I would always ask my mother what we were going to do the next day. I always wanted to know what tomorrow would bring. As a young woman, I would tell people my plans and how things were going to work out. They kindly and wisely advised that things don't always work out how you plan it. I smartly replied that while I understood this, for me, things will go as planned. Needless to say, I've a learned a lot since then.

The most important lesson I've learned is that suffering most often comes when we try to control the uncontrollable, fix what cannot be fixed, change what cannot be changed. In short, we are unhappy when we try to resist what life throws at us.

Let me explain.

1. I used to be scared of roller coasters. I hated that feeling when your stomach "goes up". I wanted my stomach to stay where it was supposed to stay. I didn't like that free-falling feeling. I liked to control how I felt. But then my junior year in high school we had Physics Day at Six Flags Astroworld. My friends "forced" me onto this ride called Dungeon Drop which takes you 20 stories above the ground, your feet dangling in the air, and then, simply drops you. While I was screaming the entire time, even before we actually dropped, and my stomach did "go up," I exited the ride carried by my own two feet. After facing down the worst ride in the park, I could now ride anything. I finally accepted that while you are in control as to whether or not you choose to ride (even under peer pressure), you may not be in control of your body while on the ride. But that is the experience you chose when you buckled yourself in. Learning to accept what the ride offered, helped me to appreciate the joy of roller coasters. I can now ride anything, mostly.

2. A couple years ago, I needed a shot. The shot was going to help me get better, but it was going to be painful, particularly so because of the location of where the shot was to be inserted. I braced myself for the pain and the doctor inserted the needle. I felt the pain coming. It hurt, it HURT, oh I wanted to scream! But no, I told myself, accept the pain, the pain is from the shot which will cause the healing. I relaxed, the pain in this case was my ally, if not my friend. After administering the shot, the doctor remarked at what a high pain tolerance I must have to not react as she had seen grown men jerk and cry out with pain when undergoing the same treatment. While I had felt the urge to jerk quite strongly in fact, I learned that accepting pain is sometimes more pleasant than resisting it.

3. I went skiing for the first time when I was 16. Growing up in Texas didn't offer a lot of opportunities. I was a timid skier and cautious as I descended the mountain. I did not face the runs head on with my chest pointed downhill and only my hips turning side to side - the proper technique. I would instead turn my entire body, including my chest and head, sideways as I debated if descending the mountain is really what I wanted to do. I then went to college in the mountain west and took a skiing class for credit. It was in the class that I learned success in skiing comes when you face the mountain head on, when you relinquish fear and hesitation, and you simply attack the slopes. And what a difference it made! For the first time ever, I made it down a black diamond in one piece.

So what do all these stories have to do with real life?

A few months ago, there was something in my life that I wanted. I did all I could to make it happen. It was a worthy desire and I felt, for that reason alone, something positive would come of it. It didn't. I grew frustrated. Here I was, doing all I could to bring about something that was good, something I really wanted, and nothing was happening. (This scenario repeats often in my life.) Essentially, I was trying to control or force to happen something that could not be controlled or forced. No matter my determination, persistence, and hard work, there are still some things in life that cannot be changed by my will alone. In addition to being frustrated, I grew unhappy, I compared myself to others, I suffered.

But then I remembered, I just needed to let go. This is the life I signed up for. Of course there are going to be times of pain and discomfort, but isn't that wonderful? It means I'm living life, having adventures, learning and growing. When I decided to accept what was and to let go of what I could not control and attack the slope essentially, it was amazing what happened. All of a sudden, thoughts, ideas, adventures, good things, rushed into my life. So much so that I struggle to find time to keep up with all of them. Life is full.

So what if I hadn't let go? What if I had resisted the fact that I can't control everything? What if I had refused to accept the discomfort of things not working out as planned? Would I still be harboring a woe-is-me attitude, failing to see all the joy and fullness around me? I've come to discover that most suffering comes when things don't work out as we think they should. And as I've said before, sometimes that's okay.

I realize that the lessons above are mine, tailored to me in a way I need and understand. Perhaps they will not apply to everyone. But as for me, I get it. And don't worry, I'm sure I will have the pleasure of learning these things many, many, many times over.

Louder!

My first semester in law school I had a civil procedure professor that struck fear in the hearts of his students. Like a typical law professor, he called on students at random. Students had no way of knowing when their day would come to be subjected to 45 minutes of intense scrutiny and inquisition. Dread was what I felt walking into his class everyday. But unlike my other 1L professors, he liked to yell. And his yells were not rants against the pot-smoking judges in California (these rants & opinions were reserved by my Torts professor), his yells were directed at you. This is where the fear came.

Some of his typical yells included:

LOUDER! when he felt you weren't speaking loud enough. If he had to yell this more than twice during your session, he would follow it up with "LOUDER! If I have to tell you that one more time, I'm going to lower your grade by a 1/3!" Not only was this humiliating in front of 50 of your peers, it was seen as detrimental for 1Ls determined to beat out their classmates for the 2-3 As to be distributed that semester.

Answer MY question! when you answered the question you hoped he would ask because you knew the answer to that question, not the question he actually asked.

I don't care what you think! when you posed your answer with "I think...." He didn't care what we thought. He wanted us to take a stand, right or wrong, and defend it.

What's your authority?! when you did take a stand but didn't back up your stance with a legal source.

One girl seated in the row in front of me got called on one day and never came back.

Somehow I made it through. I even decided to take the same professor the following year for my Bus Org class. I knew I would have to be on top of my game, but at least his lectures would be entertaining. I noticed, however, that he didn't yell quite so much that year. He didn't seem quite so intimidating. Perhaps he felt that as 2Ls we had survived his refiner's fire and had proven ourselves somehow.

As a law school grad, I can now look back on these days without sheer anxiety swelling inside my chest (well, almost). I realize now that my professor, while perhaps wanting to instill fear in us, also wanted to instill in us confidence. Confidence in how we spoke and in what we said. Confidence in what we stood for and in front of whom we stood.

I feel in the past ten years, I've been given a lot of opportunities to test my confidence and strength. I never dreamed I would ever go to law school. I never dreamed I would ever be an attorney. I never dreamed I would ever be an attorney that speaks to judges on a daily basis. I also never dreamed I would still be a single woman. Or that I would still have no family of my own. It's interesting to see what becomes of you when things don't work out quite how you plan it. But sometimes it works out for the better. The better because you become someone you never thought you could be.

In this season of Thanksgiving, I would like to give thanks to a wise Father in Heaven who gives me what I need, not necessarily what I want. Who shows me what I can become if only I will do my part. Who offers me challenges I fear I am to weak to conquer. And Who, when I struggle, offers the strength and comfort to keep me moving forward.