Wonder

We recently took the little munchkin on his first trip out of state, to visit his grandparents and great-grandparents. Before we left, my mother called me, concerned that she didn’t have the plethora of toys, books, bouncers, play mats, and other assorted baby-entertainment items that we use on a daily basis. She was worried that while we stayed at her house, the baby would have nothing to play with.

I assured her that this was not a problem. Right now, everything in the world is new and exciting to my baby boy. He is fascinated by bright lights, color contrast, and anything that makes noise. This means that on most days, the lamp in the playroom is more interesting to him than I am. And if there is sun shining in through a window, I have pretty stiff competition for my son’s attention. He is so bright-eyed and alert, taking in colors and shapes and activities in the room that I don’t notice because I have seen them hundreds of times and they have become painfully banal.

This made me think about routine. I definitely consider myself a creature of habit. I love having a predictable daily schedule and planning my weeks in advance. It would take about a month before I grew tired of eating the same thing for lunch every day. Though dull, I generally don’t consider this a bad thing. However, I realized that in my complacent day-to-day routine, I have stopped seeing the wonder in the world. I’m not sure when this happened exactly. Somewhere between the ages of six and twenty-six, I started looking at the world as an adult. I rarely hear a new word, or see a new object, or do a new activity. I look at the same furniture in the same rooms, the same trees and cars outside, the same faces, without actually seeing them. My brain knows what is there, and it skips on to the next thought.

A few years ago, the Washington Post published an article on a social experiment, wherein a world-class violinist played Beethoven on a three million dollar violin in a Metro station in Washington DC. The busy adult commuters hearing the music generally breezed past him, with only a few people stopping briefly to listen. However, most of the children who passed dragged their feet and turned their heads, straining to hear the violin music as their schedule-driven parents tugged them along. The adults hurried past, hearing without hearing the amazing beauty in front of them. I would like to think I would recognize such an amazing talent and performance if I heard it on the street, but more likely I would be one of the adults scurrying along, oblivious.

Thus, it was wonderful to take my baby to my hometown, and watch him experience my home state for the first time. He was too young to understand what he was seeing, but he did know that everything was fresh and exciting and new. This time, I tried to stop and appreciate my home, my parents, my city, my friends, just as my son did. I listened to the music, I tasted the foods, I walked around my old neighborhood, really experiencing each without permitting my task-master brain to rush on to the next obligation or concern. It wasn’t easy.

It’s tough to detach from the day-to-day requirements of adulthood, but every once in a while, it is good to hit pause and look around with fresh eyes and appreciate the wonder.

Rejection

One of the biggest challenges I face during unemployment is the constant rejection. The media (both social and otherwise) provide almost weekly reminders that there are few jobs available in the legal field. The number of law school students and graduates is increasing, yet the number of available jobs is decreasing, both due in part to the difficult economic climate. People who have no jobs and want more money are taking out loans and going to school, hoping that by the time they graduate, jobs will be available. End result: the job market is flooded with brand new lawyers who have mountains of debt but cannot find a job. Effect: rejection.

I have (unfortunately) found this to be all too true. I send out several resumes a day and am called to interview maybe once every two to three weeks. I took the bar in July, passed it in November, and have still been unable to land any paid legal work. I have many friends in the same position who have approached this problem in a number of ways. Several of them have hung a shingle and are starting their own law firms. Several are patching together part-time and contract work until they can land something permanent. Some are doing volunteer and pro bono work, hoping to create a network that will lead to paid employment. Many have returned to school, hoping (again) to put off the job search until the market is better. Personally, I have used this time as an extended “maternity leave.” Giving birth and raising a child is a viable explanation for a resume gap (to some extent).

I write this post not to complain, but simply to make observations about rejection. Part of the difficulty my colleagues and I face is that we have largely never faced rejection before. Law schools for the most part are filled with the top performers at the top schools from around the country. These students took the hardest classes in high school, earned top grades in college, aced their LSATs, and beat out hundreds of other candidates for positions in their law school classes. Most of them have never failed a class, have never been told they cannot do something, and have never been rejected (at least professionally) in their lives. Suddenly, these academic superstars are being told over and over again that they do not fit the requirements of the position, or that a better candidate has been found, or (worst of all) are not receiving any answer whatsoever.

This can be soul crushing for those uninitiated in the art of handling rejection. I certainly had a tough time dealing emotionally with this. I did everything I was supposed to do during law school – joined the clubs, earned the grades, learned the law… and none of it seems to be good enough for the few employers who do claim to hire recent bar passers. At first it hurt. I wondered what I did wrong. Tweaked my resume and cover letter. Began to question my career path. Started to doubt myself and my abilities.

However, self-doubt and negativity will not get me hired. All I can do is improve my resume, continue searching for work, improve my network, and (depending on schedule) begin working on pro bono or contract work until full-time opportunities present themselves. Instead of obsessing about my inability to land a job, I should be focusing on the positive aspects of my life: I was fortunate enough to pass the bar on my first try. My husband is able to support our family financially during this period of my unemployment. I am blessed to spend precious time with my son during his formative years – time that I know I will appreciate later on when he is not a baby and doesn’t need me like he does now. And on a fundamental level, I have food, clean water, a place to sleep, my health, and a wealth of loving and supportive friends and family.

It is so easy to get caught up in a spiral of self-doubt triggered by rejection, causing a complete loss of perspective. I believe that with an attitude shift, changing nothing else, I will be able to weather this flood of rejections, staying focused on the positive, and hopefully will come out the other side with a job and a renewed sense of self-worth. Until then, I continue the search and hope for the best.