Lawyers are like actors, and the legal profession is like Hollywood. You don’t retire from it; it retires from you. This is the natural order of things. Eventually your firm will wish you bon voyage. So where will you go? 

This week we wrap up our miniseries on career transitions with another topic that you won’t see discussed anywhere else — the leap into life after law. We’ve looked at the transitions from student to associate, from associate to partner and from partner to in-house (and vice versa). So what about leaving the law altogether?

Why might this happen? Consider this. As you progressed through your career, you will have formed many client relationships. With good client service, and the smattering of luck we all need, these connections will sustain your career. As you were doing this, your junior colleagues in the firm were doing the same thing with their contemporaries and contacts in the client world. 

Then comes the inevitable. One by one, your clients will start to leave the profession. Some for retirement, some for other reasons. Client attrition is part of the cycle of law firm life, and your own professional life. Then comes the tipping point, when you get the tap on the shoulder from law firm management. If you haven’t already jumped to go in some other direction, this day will come.

In its own way, this transition is as dangerous to your mental and physical health as all the others we’ve discussed. We all need to have a purpose and to feel relevant. Take that away and you create an aching void.

Since lean law is about how to practice law the way clients want, you might assume that it has nothing to say about life after the law. But lean law is more than a toolset, it’s also a mindset, and one concept we can usefully borrow is this: Your realities are what they are, deal with them head on, and try not to have an opinion about them.

Yes, it may feel like you’re transitioning from partner to oblivion, but there’s a whole other way of looking at it. Through each transition, you were under-prepared and ill-equipped. Whatever your journey to here, you’ve had your share of triumphs and setbacks, but you got here. Another Monday, another mountain. Month on month, year on year. You’ve contributed. Enough is enough. Now for the most important transition of all. This one should be for you. You deserve it.