I still remember my chance meeting with an English professor the summer before I started law school. He sat in the corner of a local Dallas coffee shop. When I walked in, I saw him flipping the light-creme pages of a a thick book. I knew it was him even before he raised his head to say Hello. He always had an academic, but preppy look to him. Brown loafers, tailored pants, and a cashmere sweater were his must-haves. My conversation with him was brief, but important. I failed to realize the gravity of his words until much later. He asked what I planned to do in the fall and without hesitation I told him, “I plan to go to law school.”
His face glazed over and his eyes popped wide. In one sentence he stated “I don’t believe the law will agree with you.” He made a few more statements about how many unhappy lawyers he knew and he thought my skills were better suited for the arts. Of course, I did not pay attention to his advice. My mind made up, I intended to attend law school. I dismissed his advice and later pursued a career in the legal field. It’s been 6 years since I’ve practiced law and now his advice, flashes like a Broadway Musical in my head. What if I took his advice? Where would my path lead me? I am not certain.
This conversation came to mind because I read through Ann Quindlen’s very tiny book, “A Short Guide to a Happy Life,” and “This Is Water,” by David Foster Wallace. I started thinking about all the advice I’ve ever received and what words steered me in a different direction and altered the course of my life. One that comes to mind recently came in the form of a question, “Do you believe in second chances?” Saying yes to this question altered a decision I planned on making. I also love this passage in Quindlen’s book: “But you are the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on the bus, or in the car, or at the computer. Not just life of our mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account, but your soul.”
This examination on advice transports me to this question:What is the best piece of advice you ever received? And why?
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Interesting. Some times people see parts of us exposed we don’t even see ourselves, or perhaps don’t want to face. Sounds like that professor knew your talent and you soul through your writing.
This is a great post, as I reinvent myself again. At any point in our lives, we can make a new decision, take a new direction, start a new life.
Hmm, I think I’m still waiting for the best advice!
Like you, I’m a lawyer that is better suited to the arts. I often wish someone had pointed that out to me. I don’t have many regrets (because I believe that our experiences and choices, whether right or wrong, form who we are and it’s impossible to unravel all of that back to one choice) but I do regret not being an English major and not pursuing writing at an earlier age. Then again, who’s to say I would have been ready? Or loved it? Or had anything to write about?
So in answer to your question- I do believe in second chances and most definitely in second (and third and fourth) acts. It’s never too late.
And I LOVE Anna Quindlen. I need to pick up that book.
It’s a very interesting story, and I’ve found myself answering the flip version for my brother over the years. He’s always been very artistic, but followed many others in pursuing economics as a college major and then attempting to find work on Wall Street. Unlike you, he did not actually get to work in his target field, and instead went into journalism/on-line design. It’s what suits him, and yet he always has that tiny regret in the back of his mind that he didn’t at least have a taste of the banking life. I guess regrets and “what if”s can go in either direction.
The best advice that I remember getting is from a random high school teaching who stopped me in the hallway one day after school, as I was sealing a college application to Yale. I really didn’t have a shot at Yale, but I was a bit clueless as a 17 year old. He urged me to look into one particular liberal arts college that I had heard of but was never convinced to apply to. Well, he was very convincing, so much so that I immediately dumped my Yale application in the trash and scrambled to apply to the school he recommended (after reading up on it myself). I was accepted, I enrolled, and the school ended up giving me critical opportunities that ended up determining the direction of my life.
Yup. We’re all the same–people don’t listen to advice when they have their minds made up. They can’t see the future and think they are the exception. This is a recurring theme I see as the world swirls around me.
Gosh….I think the best advice is all the advice from my husband. He is so wise.
I love this, Rudri. It’s what I needed to hear. Off the top of my head, the most recent advice I received was from my yoga teacher, who said that when you’re facing hard times, there’s no sense thinking and worrying too much about the future. Just focus on what’s next.