Law school is replete with creatives. From STEM to PHLEGMs, any ordinary person walking down Gowlings Hall on a busy weekday will come across at least five different kinds of students, each of whom comes from a different field in their pre-law life.
This diversity is what makes us unique. Our past experiences are often the fires that fuel our desire to enter the legal profession in the first place. It is this high that we ride into our 1L year. And yet, by 2L, many of the familiar faces in the hall become unknown. It is as though someone has swooped in and extinguished the very fire that inspired us to go to law school.
Between 1L and 2L, something strange happens to this group of wide-eyed and ambitious students: Students who were once so filled with life, but have now become so cynical of everything around them.
Hundreds of passionate students who were once excited and filled with hope for the future are left feeling burnt out and drained of their enthusiasm from this hyper-competitive environment. After securing a summer job, the stress of grades is no longer a looming concern for upper years. Yet, somehow, the vibes have shifted into something more sullen and negative.
But, I think there is a solution to beating this rut we are stuck in. It will make surviving the rest of our law school days just a bit more bearable.
We need to revive our creative selves again.
Law school has a knack for filling up our schedules to the point that we no longer have time to flex our creative muscles as we once did freely. Free time is scarce and only dwindles that much more with each passing day of the semester. Operating within the structured confines of legal doctrine and incrementally novel theories to pass our courses comes at the cost of restricting our originality.
The pursuit of our hobbies gets pushed to the back-burner as we use our last functioning brain cells to catch up with friends and family or mindlessly scroll through social media to keep up with the rest of the non-law world. Maybe what we need is to breathe life into these monotonous days to make ourselves feel whole again. We need to sing, dance, read, paint, journal, hike, and live out the non-legal part of our lives a bit more, in any way that feels “right” to us.
We need to bestow our kindness unto the world and unto ourselves, live passionately, and enjoy each moment like it is our last. Because truly, we never know when that might be.
I do not offer these suggestions whilst being a hypocrite. In fact, the inspiration for writing this short piece came from a sudden epiphany in the midst of a spontaneous walk through a nearby arboretum a few weeks back while I was procrastinating from doing my work. Also, it’s an opinion piece—like all other advice in law school, take what resonates and leave the rest.
As rigid as the legal profession may seem, it thrives like any other industry when the right people come along and revitalize it with their innovation and passion. Justice and the rule of law demand imagination and creativity to breathe new ideas into a system that can make society a better place for us all.
For myself, at least, I see no time to waste when it comes to reviving my creative self. I will blog, paint, read, and find myself again no matter how many tries it takes me. The best time to do it is now. And if not for my present self, I do it for my future self and all those who may need my help with their problems, legal or otherwise, someday.
Author’s note: PHLEGM stands for philosophy, history, languages, English literature, geography, music
