dependent relative revocation

Makes you wonder, doesn't it? Who comes up with these names?  It's a sort of "oops, can I have a do-over?" legal doctrine.  We move on to Wills and Trusts, and on again to Professional Responsibility.  And on.  The line up seems endless.  What began as an attempt to keep up in assimilating the onslaught has come to this:  a whimpering child slunk down behind the garbage can, hoping for an end soon to the snowballs flung by the neighborhood bully.  When will they run out of snow over there?

Alas, this thing has been done before, so surely it can be done again.  We mark ourselves against each other, against the national averages, we cringe at missed issues in an exam, and wonder how it was we could forget so much.  We laugh about the daily, almost hourly crisis of confidence that is followed by a sense of competency, followed yet again by darkness and doom.  I can't, I must, I will, oh shit.  All in a day's work.

Copycat

They say there's nothing new under the sun.  I think they may be on to something, because while each new revelation appears as a new and exciting discovery to me, I inevitably find it laid out in someone else's words, written long before I stumbled on to the life altering (for a second) truth.

Take this, for instance:  "Failure (or success) -- or at least the prospect of failure (or success) -- is what gives the journey proper context, rich consistency, and towering emotional, physical, financial and spiritual stakes that fertilize the soul for quantum growth irrespective of outcome. And growth is everything. But it can only result from earnest investment in experience." from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rich-roll/stop-life-hacking_b_5522006.html. 

I've been talking about the experience of law school, the journey of these past four years.  I definitely had a concrete goal of finishing, and while that is tremendously gratifying, I discovered that it was in the process that I found the real reward, the things that I will carry with me.  I discovered a love of the law, of mulling over a philosophical aspect of justice.  I savored those discussions with Peter, Jean, Abigail, Dave, and others.  I found in myself the whatever-it-is that made me dig down deep and push forward when it just seemed like too much, to stay with it and test what I could do.  That alone was worth the price of admission, but I got so much more.  Most of all, I got the day to day experience of the hard work, the fun, the joy and the sorrow, the aliveness of fully inhabiting my days.

". . . not a day goes by that I don't feel tremendous gratitude for the process endured to arrive at those seminal moments in my life . . ." (see above)

 I'm not the first to pass this way, I see signs of those who have walked ahead of me.  I may be lost, but I'm not the only one.

Keep your boots on

It's been a long week, and it's only Wednesday.  But at last, a break in the clouds gives a hint of sun above.  It's temporary but it energizes my step and pushes me forward.  I suppose it helps that a) I broke down around 4pm and got a Pepsi, and b) the new subject for tomorrow is agency and partnership, then corporations on Friday.  I dearly love this area of the law, and it's a welcome respite from criminal procedure and evidence.

I will have to return to those less exciting areas of law a great deal in the coming month, because of course they are the areas I know least.  But just this little recess is refreshing.

The bloom is off the rose by now, and it's pure slog.  Not surprising but painful anyway.  Real life invades in gentle ways: the birth of a new baby in the family, time with a friend, a glass of wine on the porch on a warm summer evening.  It crashes the party too, sometimes, in less welcome ways.

I said I would remember to enjoy this time.  This makes me smile today.  Still, I hope, and limp along.

moving forward

plod, tramp, trudge, toil, plow, slog, trek, tromp

All the various modes of locomotion

Gambler's paradise

Three kinds of water:  watercourses, groundwater and surface water.

Two kinds of water rights in watercourses:  riparian and prior appropriation (I had it first)

Five kinds of groundwater rights:  Absolute, reasonable use, correlative rights, appropriative rights and the Restatement

Three ways that liability is determined for re-direction of surface water:  natural flow, common enemy and reasonable use

Of course the odds are low that there will be more than an MBE or two on water rights, and probably no essays on it.  More likely conveyance, security interests, estates and landlord/tenant law.  So do I bother trying to stuff this minutia in?

A roll of the dice. . .  tomorrow we march on to criminal law and procedure and leave real property in the dust.

If I can't see it, it isn't really there

I seem to be able to find the energy to keep doing what I must for the bar, yet I'm overwhelmed by simple things.  I spent my day at school yesterday, and I got home around 5:30 to water leaks in the garden.  And the water to all of the zones had been turned off because that was the only obvious way to address the small geyser in the vegetables.  Fuck.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  I know I have a few hours before it's time to crawl in bed, but I didn't want to have to use it for, well, anything.  To turn my focus to other things, though simple or small, is just one thing too much on this camel's back.

I seek a cave in which to hide from all the everyday chores.  I don't want to get the oil changed, I don't want to deal with the paperwork involved with my former employer, I'd rather just take the easy route on insurance, the dentist, and yes, the water leak.  In truth, I knew I had a leak already but not that it was that bad.  I was closing my eyes, turning up the proverbial radio, and hoping it would magically disappear.

What a surprise, it not only did not disappear, but got worse.  Turns out my safety net is me, and me is tired, weary, overwhelmed.

In fairness, I confess that once I resigned myself to it, fixing the leaks was not so bad, and in the process I harvested some garlic.  The pleasure of brushing against a tomato plant and inhaling that musky scent-I had put that off too.  And will for a while longer.

dog paddling in the sea of doubt

The tides ebb and flow with the results of the most recent practice essay exam or set of MBE's.  I'm either hopelessly lost or maybe I'll manage to survive this, in 15 minute increments.

I'm mired in the mud of secondary evidence rule, character evidence rules and impeachment.  It does not help that I don't like this part of the law.  I'm pretty sure the bar examiners don't care what I like though, so I'll keep treading water.

the eye of the storm

Sitting in the quiet of the morning, I know that at any time the wave of humanity will come crashing in and invade my serenity for the day.  And off we will go, careening through the day, to arrive breathlessly at the other end.  To what avail?  To pass the bar, of course.

I found myself putting foot in front of foot this morning, mindlessly, tired and slightly bent in my mind.  "Self!" I said to myself.  "Squander not this gift."

This interlude from now to August is singular, and while it comes freighted with anxiety and heavy expectations, it is nonetheless a sweet and quiet pocket outside the maelstrom of life.

The day wanes all too quickly

When this thing is done, I shall go in search of more.

"How dull it is to pause, to make an end, 
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use! 
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life 
Were all too little . . ."

Because it is the only tenable choice.

" . . . you and I are old; 
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; 
Death closes all: but something ere the end, 
Some work of noble note, may yet be done, 
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. 
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: 
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep 
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 
’Tis not too late to seek a newer world. 
Push off, and sitting well in order smite 
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds 
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths 
Of all the western stars, until I die."
from Ulysses by Alfred Lloyd Tennyson

the morning of

It's graduation morning, at last.  Not an end, not even a beginning.  Just a day of celebration because we've made the ascent to the top of this particular mountain.  I know there will be yet another summit to attempt tomorrow.

I'm alternately nervous about my speech and trying to just savor the day.  I'm amazed at the kind things people are saying and doing, and afraid I'll be too nervous or too busy to stop and appreciate each one.

Just now my younger son is ironing his shirt, the house is quiet and I am remembering things.  I remember attending graduation in my first year of law school and feeling how amazing it must be to be one of those who made it up there on that stage, and feeling that surely something was going to prevent my achieving that goal.  Even last year at graduation, realizing it was just a year away, with the worst behind me, I still doubted.  Well, here it is.  It's difficult to get my head around it all of a sudden.