Rediscovering the Power of Self-Care
By Sara Miller
“Wellness.” “Well-being.” “Mental health.” “Self-care.” With the entirely new way of life that the COVID-19 pandemic has brought to the world, I have noticed that terms like these are being used more than ever before. This focus may be new to some, but the legal industry is no stranger to never-ending conversations regarding the health and well-being of lawyers.
Indeed, prior to the pandemic, I could not think of the term “wellness” outside of the context of my fledgling career as a young attorney. For me, “wellness” referred to the affirmative actions I could take to protect myself from the stresses and strains that can accompany being a lawyer. For example, instead of installing my work email on my phone, I opted to get a second phone provided by my firm, so that I could have a literal physical boundary between my personal life and the office. So, when the pandemic started, references to mental and physical wellness — from social media posts and employer email blasts, to commercials on TV with the message, “It’s OK to not be OK” — largely fell on my figuratively deaf ears. As a young lawyer, I sometimes feel inundated by sources from both inside and outside the legal field that tell me I must focus on wellness and mental health, or else I will face dire consequences. As a result, when the self-care messaging increased in the wake of COVID-19, I felt that I was already an expert in practicing wellness. I did not believe that this bizarre time brought on by the pandemic would be any more of a challenge to my wellness than the legal industry already poses to it.
I was wrong. I, like many of my peers and friends, have encountered the unique challenges posed by quarantine orders and working from home — by isolation. And those challenges have very little to do with being a lawyer.
I consider myself to be introverted, so working at home alone, with only the company of my pets and the camera on my laptop, didn’t seem too daunting. Besides, being a lawyer had already “trained” me to practice wellness. Instead of focusing on myself, I became more concerned about being the rock to those closest to me while they expressed feelings of hopelessness, and even of loss. Yet, before I knew it, my dietary habits changed, and I was no longer properly fueling my body. Each at-home 20-minute workout felt like an attempt to scale Mount Everest until I stopped exercising altogether. Even mustering the energy to wash my hair became a real challenge. And yet, I didn’t think that I could share the difficulties I was having with those who were closest to me while I was so concerned with helping them with theirs. I’m a lawyer, after all, so I should be a wellness pro! But more than anything, I was shutting down, which made me feel that I was failing — failing my friends, family, and coworkers.
As I began to struggle with even the most basic tasks of self-care, I realized that the person I was failing the most was myself. And that’s OK, because those cliché commercials are right: it’s OK to not be OK.
In a way, I am grateful for the pandemic because it has allowed me to reframe what “wellness” means to me. I am not just a lawyer; I am an entire person. The isolation that has come with stay-at-home orders and working from home has brought out who that person is, at the most basic level, and has allowed me to really consider the things that are most important to me. Health and sanity are certainly on that list, but so is being a lawyer. And the lesson I have learned throughout this challenging time is that I can’t commit to being a lawyer without committing to myself first.
Now, wellness to me means doing what is necessary to be who I am. This may sound vague, maybe even idealistic, but it works for me. I (literally) cannot function without eating or getting a full night’s sleep. I feel stronger and healthier when I exercise. My mind is more clear when I take the time to decompress, whether that be through reading Harry Potter or starting a new painting. Granted, I acknowledge that “wellness” is an imperfect practice, and may look different each day. One day, I may not eat enough to support an hour-long HIIT class, so, instead, I can do a half-hour of yoga. Another day, I may just need to get outside and do something fun, like riding scooters on the Rail Trail with my friends. Wellness is simply doing what I need to do to be me. It may sound obvious to some, but I can’t be a lawyer — or a daughter, or sister, or friend, or teammate or coworker — without being a human first.