The Gifts of Recognition, Admiration, and Laughter

Too many times I let the chance go by to recognize someone for who they are,

or something they’ve done. Or to appreciate them. Can you relate?

I want to be better at that.

 What if we didn't let any chances go by? What if we recognized everyone, as often as possible,

seeing, and saying (if that’s welcome), that we see their amazingness, or their pain?

And appreciating them?

It feels like our profession, maybe our world, could be better if we tried to do that.

 And also, helped people laugh, or at least smile: I don’t do that enough, either.

Sure, most of our work is too serious to laugh about. But there are moments of levity, aren’t there? What if we highlighted those moments?

 And on that note, how many lawyer jokes are there? Only three. The rest are true stories.

Transcript

Wake Up Call #358: Recognition, Admiration, and Laughter May be the Most Generous Gifts We Can Offer

Hi everyone, it’s Judi Cohen and this is Wake Up Call 358. We’re still exploring generosity, or dana, the first of the six paramitas or perfections of heart and mind. 

This paramita, sometimes called dana-paramita, is so multi-dimensional. We’ve explored giving material goods and time; sharing mindfulness with others overtly or by simply embodying it; and what generosity looks like when it’s an offer of safety. But there’s more. It’s also possible to be generous with our recognition, our praise, our joy, all three of which often seem in short supply in the law. 

Let’s start with recognition. Is there anyone you can call to mind right now, who did or said something important or useful or just kind, in the last few days, weeks, or months? Did you take a moment to recognize them? If so, how did you do it? Could you sense the good it brought them? How did it make you feel? What did you recognize? An accomplishment? Their kindness? Is there anyone whom you could or maybe should recognize right now? Can you make a plan to do that? 

Sometimes I think about recognition not so much in terms of generosity but rather in terms of an obligation. When I’m working with someone and they contribute, I sometimes think it’s only fair to recognize them, and not take the credit myself. Sometimes I even think about it in legal terms, in the sense that I shouldn’t take credit because that might get me into trouble. It feels like there’s an edge to this kind of recognition; like it’s something I have to do.

Generosity seems to give recognition a different flavor. Recognizing someone out of generosity is, for me, about seeing them and wanting to lift them up to be seen, for the wonderful work they’ve done, or the wonderful human they are. Wanting them to be celebrated. I can take joy from their joy in being celebrated, which feels rooted in generosity and could be a good example for others to do that, too. Recognition grounded in generosity seems like a situation where everyone wins.

Recognition is also something we can give, with generosity, when someone is in pain. When I’m having a hard time, just having someone recognize that is so powerful, so helpful. Maybe you’ve had that experience: either of being recognized as being in a difficult moment, or of offering recognition to someone who’s suffering. It’s the foundation for compassion, isn’t it? I see you. I see your suffering. I recognize out loud that this is a difficult moment for you. 

Sadly, I think recognizing someone’s suffering is easier said than done in our profession. We lawyers tend to hide our suffering, the difficulties we’re having. We’re supposed to be tough, to be able to handle anything, to take on whatever is needed. My mother used to say, shoulders as broad as the world. That’s what we’ve learned to be in the law.

I know a lot of lawyers who would rather die, possibly literally, than allow a crack to show in their armor. They present as gruff, short-tempered, disconnected: the partner who flies off the handle or doesn’t really notice the associates or staff; the teacher who doesn’t take the time to really see their students; the associate whose nose is to the grindstone 24/7/365. Recognizing these folks might look different because they seem so unapproachable, and like they don’t need any recognition. But everyone does!  So what about, first, seeing that they’re in some pain, have some suffering. Maybe there’s loneliness or other afflictive emotions: fear, frustration, anxiety, depression… Can we recognize one another without even saying anything, where saying something might feel intrusive, just by being kind? 

So all of this is the gift, the generosity, of recognition.

What about the gift of admiration? If recognition is step one, admiration might be step two. And it has a lot of possibilities: the gift of admiring the other folks on the road (their thoughtfulness, their need to get to work, too), rather than seeing them as in my way. Admiring someone for the work they’ve done, from the humblest to the most astonishing – out loud, to set an example, or if they’re not right there, so it gets back to them. What a difference it could make if, instead of snarky comments or a baseline of competition, we could generously offer heartfelt praise and admiration to our colleagues? What if we could shift the adversarial nature of the practice of law, without abandoning the adversary system. Shakespeare said it in Taming of the Shrew, as if it were true and maybe he was being a little optimistic: “Do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.”

And last but not least, the gift of laughter. Anyone can offer joy and laughter, to lighten our loads, help us take ourselves – and maybe the incredibly serious things we have to do – just a little bit less seriously. Not laughter at, but laughter with. Not laughter at someone else’s expense, but laughter that says, I see what you’re going through, I appreciate you, I’ve been there, too. 

Anyone who offers that kind of laughter is, for me anyway, a kind of national treasure. Their gift feels almost immeasurable, and I love to be around them, even in the most serious of settings. 

And sure, laughter isn’t always appropriate in our line of work. But in & around the more serious moments, can we offer a little laughter, a little joy? Can we find ways to offer it when we can and it’s appropriate? And it works from both ends: can we also let joy and laughter in, being generous with ourselves? 

So there’s a small yoga class. The teacher is a red velvet cupcake. One student is a chocolate chip cookie. Another is a vanilla cupcake. The third is a donut. The teacher says, “OK, everyone, find your center.” 

Let’s sit. 

[Play the John Lennon Imagine video at the end of the Paramitas – whenever that is! (It’s bookmarked under Music.)]

How to be Generous with Recognition, Appreciation, and Laughter.

On today's Wake Up Call, at the top of the hour.

 Too many times I let the chance go by

to recognize someone for who they are,

or something they’ve done.

Or to appreciate them.

Can you relate?

I want to be better at that.

What if we didn't let any chances go by?

What if we recognized everyone, as often as possible,

seeing, and saying (if that’s welcome),

that we see their amazingness,

or their pain?

And appreciating them?

It feels like our profession, maybe our world,

could be better if we tried to do that.

And also, helped people laugh, or at least smile:

I don’t do that enough, either.

Sure, most of our work is too serious to laugh about.

But there are moments of levity, aren’t there?

What if we highlighted those moments?

And on that note, how many lawyer jokes are there?

Only three. The rest are true stories.