When I was a young lawyer, I had the incredible good fortune to be sent to Budapest to work in the brand-new office of Stikeman Elliott. It was the early 1990s—a very exciting time to be in Eastern Europe. Stikeman had joined forces with a local firm, Réti & Antall Ügyvédi Iroda, with shared offices and joint representation of many government clients. The work, mostly privatizations, was amazing, complex, and long. Like…really long.

We worked nights and weekends. We ate most meals at the office. We had our Canadian support staff on 12-hour shifts and cots in the basement for sleeping. It was normal to spend 24 or even 36 hours straight at the office. I remember vividly a day I left the office at 5:30 p.m. to go home and host a dinner party. Driving over the Chain Bridge and looking around at the glorious Danube, the castle, and the Parliament in daylight, I remember thinking, “Imagine how much I could accomplish if I could leave the office every day at this time.” And then I remembered it was a Sunday.

To those of us from Montreal and Toronto, we were lawyers working normal lawyer hours. But when you looked around at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday, there were no Hungarians at the office. On weekends, there were no Hungarians at the office. On holidays, there were no Hungarians in the office. They were home with their families, enjoying meals with friends, or sailing on Lake Balaton. It’s safe to say the Hungarians thought we were nuts. Looking back, I think they were right.

You’ve worked hard—really hard—to become a lawyer. You’ve earned your title through years of education, exams, and long hours as an articling student (if you’re Canadian) and young associate. The job feels all-encompassing, especially in the early years when the learning curve is steep and the pressure is relentless. But here’s the hard truth: if you’re not careful, the role of “lawyer” will take up so much space in your life that it pushes everything else out.

Being a great lawyer demands dedication and commitment, but it doesn’t require the sacrifice of everything else that makes you you.

The challenge is real. It’s hard to find the balance between “you, the lawyer” and “you, the whatever-else-you-want-to-be.” But that balance is essential—not just for your mental health, but for your performance and longevity in the profession.

Carving out time for what matters outside of work isn’t selfish or lazy, it’s smart. We enjoyed our time in Hungary, but there were so many things we missed—cultural experiences that would have helped us truly understand our Hungarian clients and colleagues—because we allowed lawyering to take precedence over everything else. Having passions, causes, and relationships outside the law makes you a better lawyer. It keeps you connected to your community and grounded in real-world experiences. It reminds you that clients are people with human problems, not just legal issues.

Do not let the pressure of the work and the allure of the salary, the office, and the position prevent you from developing skills outside of the law. You cannot allow being a lawyer to prevent you from being a parent, an artist, a community volunteer, a wine-lover, a chef…whatever the thing is that fuels your passion.

Right now, you’re likely saying to yourself, “sure, but when? How can I make space for the other stuff when I have to hit my targets?” I get it. But as my grandmother always said, start as you mean to go on. Try to fit your passion into your life from the start. Even if it’s just 10 minutes at bedtime to write something creative in your journal, or fifteen minutes every other day to practice the piano, you are creating the habit of valuing your other identities. As your career evolves, that habit of valuing—of making time for—your other identities will stick with you. Even if your passions change over the years, your habit of making time for them won’t.

Life moves in seasons. There will be stretches where work takes center stage—when you're building your practice, running trials, or closing deals. But there will also be seasons of caregiving, parenting, and personal growth. The sooner you learn to make space for all of it, the richer your life will be—and the more sustainable your legal career becomes.

Identity is a powerful thing. You will most likely go through life identifying as a lawyer, introducing yourself as a lawyer, thinking of yourself as a lawyer. But you can love your job and still be more than your job. You can be a great attorney without letting the profession consume your entire identity. Creativity, whether it’s painting or gardening or cooking, will refresh you. Volunteering, coaching, spending time with people you love—those are not distractions. They’re your fuel. They’re your life. They’re your future.

Don’t make the mistake of putting off your passions for “someday.” Life won’t wait. If you don’t commit early to making time for your life, you may find there’s not much of it left outside the office door.

And here's a sobering thought: many lawyers don’t retire because they can’t imagine who they’d be without the job. Don’t be that lawyer. Start now. Explore the things that light you up. Build an identity that’s bigger than your business card. Your future self will thank you—and so will your clients.

Happy people are more productive. Grounded people are better problem-solvers. Whole people make better lawyers. Be one of them.

This is just one lesson, discover the other 49 when 50 Lessons for Young Lawyers is published, and share it with students, new associates, and anyone starting their legal career.

Karen and David