How's it going with your New Year's resolutions? Yeah, me too....

I do not ordinarily make New Year's resolutions, but I thought I would try something different this year. I have already shared with some of you my attempts to follow this succinct, yet multilayered motto: “Don't run in heels.”

Shall we start with the obvious, before peeling back the layers? At the most literal, this motto reminds me to take care of my health. A slip and fall is no fun, not only because it hurts, but because getting injured prevents me from doing what I want to do—whether it is something fun, like going for a bike ride, or something serious, like getting my work done. Even if I manage to avoid a cartoon-like spill down the stairwell of the Courthouse, running in heels is bad for my knees and back. Age will take its toll—I do not have to help speed it along.

It turns out this resolution is about health in a more symbolic way as well. What causes me to hurry like this? Is it because I am literally running late? That seems to happen when I fail to get enough sleep. People always think they need fewer hours of sleep than they actually do, and attorneys are sometimes the worst offenders. Maybe the name change of this resolution from a positive, yet amorphous and aspirational “Sleep Better and Sleep Enough” to a negative, but specific and prescriptive “Don't Run in Heels” will do the trick for a rules-bound personality.

Let's go deeper. Was I was trying to get just one more thing done before dashing away from my desk? Am I trying to squeeze too many things into that finite span of time, instead of (enjoying) doing fewer things better? After all, the world will not come crashing down because I only got 23 of the 41 things on my list done today. Allotting realistic transition and travel time would undoubtedly reduce the self-inflicted stress levels stemming from stilettoed sprinting. “She should have gotten more done in the last 15 minutes before she left the office each day” said no one's epitaph, ever.

Finally, because all effective arguments come in threes, my four-word motto reminds me about professional responsibility (yes, it sounds like a non sequitur, but stay with me here). Shod in four-inch pumps, I can trot with decent technique and speed on the court floor, but it is not particularly dignified to race down that polished hallway in such a fashion. Who cares? Well, the State Bar does:

“I solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of the State of California, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of an attorney and counselor at law to the best of my knowledge and ability. As an officer of the court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with dignity, courtesy, and integrity.”

To those of us who were sworn in as attorneys more than 3 years ago, the last sentence of this “Oath required when admitted to practice law,” may not sound so familiar. Rule 9.4 of the California Rules of Court, adding this sentence, was enacted in 2014, to remind attorneys of “the principles of professionalism that brought them to the practice in the first place and in particular in their dealings with clients, other attorneys, and judges.” (Patrick Kelly, 2012-2013 President of the State Bar). Of course the concept of civility in the Marin County Bar Association is not new—we have had an approved Code of Civility since 1997. Moreover, the Marin County Bench has been on board as well, having adopted Marin County Local Rule 7.2 the following year, which encourages attorneys to abide by the MCBA Code of Civility.

As to the three principles added to our oath: dignity, courtesy, and integrity, I have always demanded integrity of myself, but that is only a third of the picture. It is not enough. Starting with my New Year's Resolution to access dignity by slowing myself down reminds me not to skip the second principle, courtesy, on my way to the end result: professionalism and civility.

So ... the beauty of celebrating the Lunar New Year just a month into the year is that if our resolutions have not quite gotten off the ground, we all get the opportunity to hit that reset button. If you need to, let's try for a fresh start to the New Year at the Installation Gala: Don't run in heels—dance in them!

On a serious note: When you take an oath to support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of California, what does that mean? After witnessing the intense clash of ideas in our country in the last couple of weeks, it seems to me that regardless of ideological credo, religious belief, or political affiliation, an attorney must not support unconstitutional government action. Of course, people will disagree as to where that line is drawn; because we enjoy the right to freedom of speech, we expect a robust exchange of ideas. What is the role of the Bar Association in the debate on these weighty issues? We cannot purport to represent all the attorneys and affiliated professionals who live and/or practice in this county if we take any kind of political stance on such topics as environmental or immigration policy. Accordingly we do not. However, we can, and we are obligated to support the Constitution. Consider Business and Professions Code Section 6068:

“It is the duty of an attorney to do all of the following: ... Never to reject, for any consideration personal to himself or herself, the cause of the defenseless or the oppressed.”

Without endorsing any particular result, I commend all those attorneys who, guided by their individual assessments of what the Constitution requires of them, use their legal training to represent those in need. In these turbulent times, chaos must be driven back by the rule of law.