Leaving law school: Is this all there is?

I picked up my tam, gown, and hood today. I tried them on and stood in front of the mirror, and it felt like I was just playing dress up. Haven’t I already crossed this bridge? Is this all there is?

I remember the feeling of “Oh my god, I’m really done” that I got when I finished my last final in college, or when I drove out of the parking lot on the last day of high school. It was a wave of relief and pride and gladness and freedom. I haven’t gotten that relative to my law school commencement.

That’s probably the case because of a few reasons:
1. I’ve already “started my life.” After completing high school and college, there was some feeling of freedom from that chapter, and the excitement of feeling that “now my life can really begin.” But I’ve already been there, and done that. I’ve been out of school and in the working world, living on my own, paying my rent and bills, making ends meet as a non-student. Law school wasn’t another chapter in my school life; it was a choice I made as someone already living in “the real world” post-school to better myself and my career opportunities and pursue a dream. So to be done doesn’t have the same “Wow–NOW life begins!” feeling that maybe it would if I had come to law school straight from undergrad, and hadn’t already sort of started life. I’m continuing it by following through on a choice I made a few years ago.

2. It isn’t really the end of the road. Law school doesn’t culminate in the school’s commencement ceremony. Just a few days after the ceremony, I plunge into the bar review course and spend a couple months studying–again–for yet another one-shot-determines-it-all test… and the mother of all such tests: The Bar Exam. So to get a super-high from graduating from law school would be a little false, really, because you actually only get a reprieve before you’re studying again for the test that actually determines whether or not you can be a lawyer.

3. I’ve already graduated in all the ways that matter most. I fell in love with my job last summer, and when I got the job offer for which I was praying this past September, I cried, I was so happy. My family was elated along with me, and the thought of the challenging, constantly changing and evolving, fast-paced (and yes, slightly scary) career ahead of me has been a wonderful light at the end of this tunnel all this year. I decided to start house-hunting and by the grace of whatever, I found a house that I adored beyond adoration right away, and was able to purchase it (I close in just 5 days!). I learned even more about myself through these past 3 years and know that I am happier, more confident, more secure, and more balanced about things than I’ve ever been. All in all, therefore, I feel like I’ve had all the big commencement milestones that matter most. What’s left–a ceremony, a robe, a piece of paper– are nice and all, but they’re not what I came here for. They’re not what kept me awake with delight on some nights, dreaming of my future career and house and life to come. They’re just… pieces of the final experience of law school. But my heart moved on from here a long time ago.

I look around my apartment and feel a mixture of wonder and aching–wonder that three years could go by so quickly, and yet be so full of learning, experience, and personal growth, and aching because I feel like my heart is already back home, in my new house, preparing for the Big Exam and my forthcoming career, but my body is stuck here for another 12 days.

I’ve never been this happy. I never understood people who said they found a career about which they truly felt passionate, but I do now. I didn’t know what to make of people who seemed just… content. But I do now. Not that my life is permanent smooth sailing, or totally without pain or frustration. A life like that would be robotic, not joyful. I don’t want that, and I don’t expect it.

The key is to have more mornings than not when you wake up ready to meet the day, not dreading going to work (and maybe even on occasion looking forward to it), and feeling okay about where you are in that moment. I think I’m going to have that. I know I do right now, though more and more, I wake up wishing I was waking up in my new house, just blocks away from my family, with my doggie waiting to go outside, rather than waking up here.

Today at lunch, my friend Josh made mention of the fact that for most of us who are graduating, we “left school” a long time ago, and have been moving forward with our lives while having to just stay physically here at school. And he’s right.

And I think that’s why the End of Law School is so anticlimatic for me. The next chapter of my life has already started, and it’s waiting for me in Ossian. I’m fortunate in that I’m not waiting for graduation for that next chapter to begin–I’m waiting for graduation so I can officially step into that chapter already in progress.

Anyway. My last class, last final… last trip to my locker… last book sell-back (a.k.a. biannual rip-off)… all done. And in five days, I’ll have closed on my house. I won’t want to come back after that. I’m done here. I learned and experienced what I needed to. I grew up some more and got schooled a bit more by the School o’ Hard Knocks. But things are finished here for me, in every way but the formalities.

Is this all there is? Yes, I guess so–but only because so much more lies ahead.