Conscientious Ramblings

So I waded right into the thick of work, hence my time being limited to post anything of value.  I do need to get something off my chest though.

I had a mediation today.  At this mediation I represented one of the territorial authorities around New Zealand, as I always do these days.  I helped procure a settlement.  A good settlement in my opinion.  I managed to secure such terms so that the council only paid a fraction of that settlement and in doing so I forced two other parties to sell their houses.  The houses they live in, not some fancy batch on the sunny coastline overlooking the sea.  No.  Their houses.  That they, their respective wives and children live in.

It's hard to swallow.

And to make it worse, at least upon reflection, us lawyers were standing round chatting and gossiping about other claims and nonsense at the end.

But thinking more on it, if we didn't keep going, skipping from subject to subject we'd be tied up in the personal effect.  It was only really on my way home when I reflected on it that I started to think about it all.  I am perpetuating that horrible stereotype of cold hearted lawyers.

Perhaps though it's a front for every lawyer.  I certainly think that I couldn't cope if I paused to linger for too long.  I'm there to do a job, I can sympathise but ultimately I have a client to consider.  Much the same that the lawyers on the other side have a job to do and are more than likely out for blood from my client.  But should it really it be a job, do I have to perpetuate the myth?

Why does this bother me?  Apart from adversely affecting if not ruining people's lives with a swipe of legal argument, I'm worried people may think of me as a cold heartless lawyer.  I'm not.  Or at least I don't think I am.  I was certainly paid an extremely lovely compliment in a mediation not long ago - the claimant didn't think I was a lawyer, apparently I'm compassionate.  That's probably the reason why she left halfway through, somehow I was convincing her that she wouldn't succeed against my client and yes it was unfair but I couldn't do anything about it.

I guess though that it brings some perspective for me.  My silver lining (as we always know I somehow find one to everything).  To know that I can still feel these things, to truly empathise these brutal cold hard facts and keep going and succeed.

I'd certainly worry more if I wasn't affected by these things.

Quick Update

So I managed to survive my intense week of mediations round the country.  All up, I only spent 1 night in my bed in Auckland.  I loved the travels, the simple pleasure of my own company, the focus on the task at hand and, of course, the cut and thrust of argument.

The relentless tide of work that ebbed in during my absence, however, was something I'm not wholly fond of.  But it was certainly worth it.  For instance, how many people can say they took some time off and ended up playing a game of Hurling?

Now it just a matter of settling back into a suitable rhythm.  At this rate, I'll probably find myself arrived at Christmas without realising it though.

Ramblings

It's become ever more apparent over the last week or so that I am, for want of a better turn of phrase, a control freak.

Perhaps that's a bit dramatic.  I don't like not being in control, leaving things in other people's hands is difficult for me to do.  Nigh impossible.  If I can do something I will do it; if I feel like I could do something, I will feel compelled to do it.

This is sounding more like an obsession, and an unhealthy one at that.  I assure you that is not the case.

But I had thought more on the matter.  Most profoundly in relation to the events of last week involving a certain lady.  The thought struck me while watching a movie tonight - I really didn't like the idea of not being able to do anything, make any attempt to overcome the hurdle that is timing.  It's not that I felt helpless, no, far from the contrary.  Knowing me you will know that I am a determined being and timing is not something that will stand in my way.  It's just that on this occasion, there is nothing, absolutely nothing I could do.  And that bothers me.  Why precisely, I can't put my finger on, but I can have a crack - I get the feeling that I have to be in control, a sense of control, or at least the absence of uncertainty.

That's definitely something most people know about me - I loathe uncertainty.  With a passion. I hate not knowing.

I am getting better at dealing with uncertainty, in coping with handing things off and recognising when anything I do will not be of assistance.

Now that I've offloaded that piece of personal information and wanderings, I can rest a little easier.  God knows I'll need it over the coming week with recovering from a mediation on Friday, another on Tuesday and again on Thursday.

There is a light at the end of that tunnel though - I'll be in Wellington and get to have a slight break from my Auckland reality on Friday to Sunday.  Most excellent.

And listen to this - Calexico (or one member) in a black cab with a guitar, live, powerful, and strangely uplifting:

What goes up must come down

Excuse me for the short bleeding heart moment you're about to receive.  I'm a little tired of being understanding, sympathetic and nice.  Well more tired of being called a genuinely nice guy where that isn't obviously enough.  It's like people can't find a compliment, so they reach for the supposedly tried and trusted cliche.  It doesn't work people.

In short, serendipity is definitely a matter of timing and no matter how nice I may be, no matter how genuinely nice or lovely I may be, or happy I make people, it doesn't change time.  Basically, right guy wrong time.  Story of my freaking life.

Thankfully work is providing a haven to lose myself in and I'm preparing for my first mediation closely followed by my second and third within days.  On the brighter note, next week may not be so manic: I may actually be in the office on Monday and Wednesday thanks to an adjournment.

It's times like this that it helps to listen to music with headphones and just letting go like Sir Mick does without caring what people think you look like.  There's a picture of me for you: all gangly arms and legs in a vague attempt at spasmodic rhythm with headphone wires flying in a trail around me.

Random Thoughts

I did more marketing on the weekend - visiting markets and wandering the streets.  It's like being in Hamburg again, but with smaller markets and further to walk between places.  Seriously, Auckland has real problems with the flow from one area to the next.  Wellington never suffered from it, but I'm not going to let that stop me.

What else?  Work is manic, and it hit me today that I have a mediation every week now until the end of November.  Cool, but scary as I'd quite like to have time to actually do work rather than gloss over things with the time I do have to spare.

I also very much recommend Haruki Murakami's Kafka On the Shore or The Wind-Up Bird Chronicles.  People describe Salmond Rushdie as writing magical realism; Murakami is more towards magical surrealism, and based in Japan.  If you had to choose one first, read Kafka.

Now it's time to get ready for the next day at work, I'm looking forward to my escape to Wellington next week.