Lawyers & Physicians: WHAT’S NEXT!

Every few months I pause, take a breath, and ask the lawyers and physicians I serve a simple question:

"How does your practice feel in your hands—light and steady…or heavier than it should?"

Since 1992 I’ve watched brilliant professionals soar when they make space for honest reflection.

I’ve also watched the busiest drown in details because they believed they had no time to look up.

The truth? We never stay still. We’re either inching forward or slowly sliding back.

A regular check-in is the handrail that keeps us from losing footing on a fast escalator.

A gentle three-part reset

1. Celebrate what’s working.• Maybe you filed every brief on time. • Maybe your clinic finally runs on schedule. • Maybe you left the office last Friday while the sun was still up. Pause and let those wins land. Your nervous system needs proof that effort is paying off.

2. Spot your Achilles heel.Where does stress puddle? • Deadlines sneaking past? • Interruptions shattering focus? • A desk that feels more swamp than workspace? Naming the tender spot isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Once you see it, you can soothe it.

3. Invite steady support.The strongest among us lean on others. A trusted assistant, a focused work block, a coach who has walked this road since fax machines were new—any structure that frees you to practice at your best is a gift to youandthe people you serve.

A story from the trenches

Logan, a six-year litigator, whispered during our quarterly review, “I feel like I’m drowning.”

Files towered, deadlines blurred, sleep vanished.

We cleared the accumulated stacks around his office one square foot of desk at a time,

1. Rebuilt his calendar

2. Established deep-work sprints

3. Set gentle alarms to breathe and refocus

Ninety days later the towers were gone—along with the knot in his stomach. His billables rose, but what mattered more was the quiet pride in Attorney Logan's voice: “I feel present again.”

Your well-being matters

I’ve spent three decades in your corner because I believe your skill should serveyoutoo—your health, your family dinners, your margin for the joys that make all the training worth it.

So sometime this week, pour a fresh cup of coffee or herbal tea, find a quiet corner, and walk yourself through those three steps. Pin the answers where you’ll see them.

Then—gently—act on one Achilles heel before the month ends.

If you’d like a pair of seasoned, caring eyes on your plan, you know where to find me. But whether we talk or not, know this: you deserve a practice that lifts you. And I’m rooting for you every step of the way.