Tears well up in my eyes sometimes at my workshops.
It happened at one of my recent events.
One Lawyer’s Plight
As we went around the table and the group members introduced themselves, an attendee talked about how overwhelmed he felt. He explained that he didn’t have the time to do everything he needed to do. He came to the workshop to find a solution.
That didn’t make me feel like I was going to cry. I’ve heard the overwhelmed story before. It comes up at most every workshop. It’s not uncommon for attendees to express the frustration they experience when the task list gets longer than the day has hours.
Later in the morning, he talked about his need to charge more. He feels like he can’t afford help. He sees getting some administrative assistance as the way to get back to seeing his wife and young kids, but he doesn’t have the money to pay someone to help him dig out.
That didn’t make me feel like I was going to cry either.
By early afternoon, he was talking again. He explained that other lawyers, some of whom were right down the street, could get clients to pay more. He couldn’t understand why their clients would pay more for them than they would for him. He knew he was as good as or better than those other lawyers. Why could they get paid well when he couldn’t?
I could hear the frustration. I could hear the anger. I could hear how overwhelmed he was in his voice as it started to tremble.
That’s when I felt the tears well up.
Change Is Emotional
He was wound up. His emotion took him outside of his usual facade. In that moment, he was willing to be open and vulnerable, and he told us that he was afraid.
- He’s afraid of what’s happening to his revenues.
- He’s afraid of what’s happening with the cases he can’t attend to properly.
- He’s afraid of what’s about to happen to his reputation if he can’t keep juggling all the balls.
But, more than all that, he’s afraid of what he needs to do to improve his practice. He’s afraid to change things. He’s afraid to take the risk of doing things differently. He’s afraid of losing what he has even though he sees it slipping away.
I swallowed hard, maintained my composure, and watched as the group came to the rescue.
Responding to Fear
They supported him, prodded him, and challenged him to come to terms with the fear. They put fear on the table, acknowledged that they all felt it themselves, and encouraged him to accept that change is scary and that he could do what needed doing even if the fear didn’t go away.
They were an amazing group. They had a powerful impact on one another. They helped one another accept the fear and know they could work with it as they moved forward. It was impressive.
What’s that guy going to do? Is he going to make the changes he needs to make?
I don’t know. I’m not sure. My gut is that he’s in a painful place, and the pain of not changing has reached the point where it’s scarier to maintain the status quo than it is to change. My sense is that he’s ready to make a change. I hope he can pull it off.
My reaction to this stuff surprises me sometimes. Thinking about him being in pain makes me tear up now. But thinking about him making the changes he needs to make does too.