At Home, But Not Alone Brushstrokes #31

Last week, a lawyer who was really suffering wrote me on my listserv. The person had just lost a  trial. It was not just any trial, but one he felt sure he’d win. He was reaching out for a lifeline.  Anyone that tries cases has felt the lacerations of such a loss. The scars left behind fade, but  stay with you forever. 

At some point, all of us need to be reminded that we are fighting for a cause that is too noble to  ever allow ourselves to be diminished or deterred by wounds we will inevitably suffer along the  way. In that spirit, here was my response. 

First, I feel your pain. All of us who have the courage to try cases have lost when it felt like a  travesty of justice. For that to happen on your watch cuts deep. What you do with that hurt defines you as a trial lawyer. There is a huge difference between learning lessons and losing  your bearings. One is constructive, the other destructive. There is too much at stake to lose  your confidence, passion and joy. You are needed. If not you, who? 

You asked how to deal with it. Start by speaking the truth to yourself. You tried a good case.  You can always do things better, but that does not mean you did things wrong. You probably  had a biased juror sneak onto your jury who was strong enough to lead others astray, someone  who hid their bias during jury selection. 

Get back in the saddle as soon as you can and trust yourself. You have to be strong enough to  make it through these low times. You have too much to offer to let it break you. Gut-wrenching  sadness is part of the process. The frustration of just how arbitrary justice can be is maddening, but doesn’t change the fact jurors usually get it right. 

What you do matters. Few can do it and even fewer can handle the weight of a loss like that  one. The rewards far outweigh the heartache. Convert your pain into constructive  energy. Focus intensely on new strategies that will lessen the chances of this happening to you  again. Keep honing your steel. There will be much more celebrating than grieving.  

Laser focus is how I recover, concentrating on new strategies while wisdom from the courtroom  is fresh. It’s like meditation, not the half-hearted kind, the all-in kind of a Zen master. The world  ceases to exist around me and I escape into a place of creativity and peace. I promise, if you  lock your mind in, you will be on fire with insights and epiphanies. It’s how you heal. It’s how  you grow. Losing has to hurt. If it doesn’t, you will lose your edge. Fear of losing can galvanize or paralyze. Let it light your fire, not extinguish it.  

What we do is hard. What we do is glorious. What we do matters. Do your part and do it well,  the rest does not belong to you. My heart is with you. The fact you care enough to reach out tells me you have all the right stuff. There is no way to avoid these occasional abysses. Trust that fullness is coming, far more than emptiness. Start planning right now for happy endings to  replace this sad one. Hug someone you love. Rise up from this moment.