Li(f)e Stories 

Clients appproach us from all walks of life; the business man who wants to secure his assets, the elderly mother who wants to make sure there’s adequate provision for her children in her will, the upper class young adult caught with possession of a controlled substance. 

It’s easy to judge, too easy actually, almost as easy as it is to become disillusioned and cynical.

People think lawyers become disillusioned with years of practice, but I think it’s a sense of disillusionment with the world and the “way it works” that draws us to the legal profession. 

And then one day, a client walks into your office, pours her heart out and pleads for “justice,” and you feel… indifferent

You offer a warming smile and gently nudge a box of tissues towards her all while mentally weighing the authenticity of her tears and prospects of success. She tells you it’s not about the money, “it’s the principal of the matter.” She fumbles and fidgets with the tissues in her hand and you begin to analyse beyond the spoken words into the hidden gestures. Smiling, nodding, encouraging.

Tell me more about your li(f)e.

Year 28


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Birthdays are always nostalgic, but let’s be honest, it takes very little to tip me into nostalgia.

If I had to pick a theme, I’d say year 27 was about unfinished business; I finished what I had started (#lawyered) and it was all very, very business.  

Undoubtedly, the biggest accomplishment of year 27 was being finally admitted to the legal profession. A journey that started well over the 1418 days ago when I arrived to Australia to start law school.

I have set a different intention for Year 28; Year 28 is about beginnings, balance and beauty.

The beginning of new goals, new relationships, new adventures.

Finding balance between creating the life I want and enjoying the life I have created.

And recognizing the beauty in all of the above.



Borrowed Words: E. Gilbert 

I was suffering the easily foreseeable consequences. Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted-an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is witheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy, and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore– despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere, goddamn it, because he used to give it to you for free). Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have ‘that thing’ even one more time. Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you. He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is,you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You’re a pathetic mess,unrecognizable even to your own eyes. So that’s it. You have now reached infatuation’s final destination– the complete and merciless devaluation of self. ― Elizabeth Gilbert

Quote of the day

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like that. That you wanted to sleep for a thousand years. Or just not exist. Or just not be aware that you do exist. Or something like that. I think wanting that is very morbid, but I want it when I get like this. That’s why I’m trying not to think. I just want it all to stop spinning.

Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower