“Now Is SO Not the Time …

You’re an up and coming young lawyer in a mid-sized firm. You spend your days on deadly dull document review duty. Maybe they throw you a bone now and again and let you sit in on a deposition. You don’t know the clients personally, and you’re quite sure they don’t know you. The hours are long. The feedback is minimal. And one day, you’re going to either be partner, or you’ll be surprised by a pink slip, delivered with the explanation that explains nothing: “We just don’t see a good fit with the firm culture” or “Your work is exemplary, we just don’t think we have a position for you any longer.”

Or you’re an older lawyer, muddling through your days as an in-house staffer. You’re dreading the day the company announces the next round of layoffs, because you know it’s coming. Everyone knows it’s coming. The only question is “how long will it take?” Also: “how fair will they be with severance?”

Maybe you’re single, or maybe you’re married with kids. Maybe you have a mortgage or maybe you still rent. Forget about retirement — you’re worried about next week’s utility bill.

Why Now IS The Time

Make no mistake. We’re in a recession. Have been for awhile. Things are dire, and uncertain, and if you’re not scared, you’re probably living in Egypt. You know: the land of “da-Nile” (denial).

Why is now the time to break free and go solo? Because battening down the hatches, curling up in a fetal ball, and waiting for the hurricane to blow itself out will get you nowhere. The best you can hope for from a fear-based reaction in this economy is exactly that: riding out a storm. You’ll come out on the other end, sure, but in a battered boat and with water coming on fast. Also? In the same place — anchored firmly off-shore, or tied to the bow of a bigger ship that’s probably also taking on water itself.

If you want to go somewhere — if you want to make progress — you’ll need to move. Let’s say it again: If you want to make progress, some movement will be required of you.

If the thought of any kind of movement scares you, then congratulations — you’re savvy, and realistic, and that’s just what you need to be to make it as an Inspired Solo.

Captain Your Own Destiny

Launching a solo practice is not something you do lightly, of course. You think about it a lot. You engage in a crapload of analytical thinking, particularly the kind that’s directed inwards, at yourself. You run the numbers, you run them again, and then after you recover from the initial shock and the secondary shock, you run them a third time and you start to see some room to play with those numbers.

But just for a moment, take a mental jump to the other side of the journey and see what it looks like, looking backwards. What will you see?

You’ll see a lot of hard work. Long days, filled with mind-numbing detail work and overwhelming big-picture work and everything in between.

You’ll see the fulfillment of your potential as a lawyer. You, in charge, making the strategic decisions and executing them. You, deciding which witnesses to depose and what questions to ask. You, courting the clients and getting to know them, and you, becoming their trusted advisor and counselor. You, making a difference in their lives.

You’ll see some scary days where you’re not sure if the cash is flowing enough to keep your little shop going for another week. You’ll see some flush days, where the money seems to be flowing like sweet, sweet honey.

You’ll see the whole ball of wax, in other words, and one thought will prove dominant: I did this. Me. By myself.

Oh sure, if you’re smart, you’ll have had help. Lots of help, from lots of smart and kind people who’ve been where you are and made that journey themselves. You’ll have screwed up, at least a few times, and you’ll have learned how to put things right as a result.

Which Would YOU Rather Depend On?

Before I made the decision to go solo, lo, these many moons ago, I waffled. A lot. So much that my best friend L. called me “Eggo.” I ran out of hands — “on the one hand … but on the other hand … but on the other other hand …” I knew the reasons why, and the reasons why not. I just could not force myself to come down on one side of the damn fence or the other. Should I stay in my relatively cushy job as attorney to a county government and its council members? Or should I chuck it all and launch my own little boat upon the waters?

Finally the man I was married to at the time said one of the smartest things I’ve ever heard: “You have a choice to make. You can spend the next several years depending on the whims of twelve elected officials. Or you can depend on your own efforts. Which would you rather do?”

It’s what Oprah calls “the lightbulb moment.” Honey, mine was a damn Klieg light, flashing like the Batman signal in the night skies of Metropolis. There was no ignoring that feeling.

Well, when you put it that way …