Civility and Mindfulness

The practice of mindfulness has been finding its way into the legal world over the past few decades. Thanks to people like Rhonda Magee and Jenna Cho, more and more lawyers are learning that mindfulness can reduce stress and increase a sense of well-being.

And that’s not all. Mindfulness isn’t just about feeling better. It’s about thinking better. It can have profound implications for the practice of law—especially when it comes to matters of civility.

First, some basics. The practice of what Americans call “mindfulness” began 2,500 years ago with a man we now call the Buddha. Since the historical Buddha’s death at the age of 80, Buddhism has become one of the world’s major religions, with as much doctrinal diversity as any other religious tradition.

Given its origins, mindfulness can certainly have religious connotations. Since the 1970s, however, practitioners in the English-speaking world have turned mindfulness into a secular practice, too. It’s now easy to find mindfulness courses that have no religious connections at all. In fact, you’re as likely to hear about mindfulness from neuroscientists as you are from monks. Personally, it’s a vital part of my Christian faith. (And I’m hardly alone. For example, Dr. Paul F. Knitter, a professor at Union Theological Seminary, wrote Without Buddha I Could Not Be a Christian).

So what is mindfulness? In its secular form, mindfulness usually refers to mindfulness of the breath. It doesn’t have to be the breath. You can be mindful of walking, singing, eating, anything. Breath just happens to be convenient. It goes like this:

Breathe in. Silently count “one” in your head.

Breathe out. Silently count “two” in your head.

Do that until you reach “ten,” then start again at “one.”

Don’t try to change your breathing. Don’t make your breaths gentler or longer. Just observe and count them.

If you’re human, your mind will wander during this exercise and you’ll discover that you’ve been breathing without counting. When that happens, simply note it and then return to your breath and “one.” You’ll be tempted to judge yourself—but just observe and start over.

There are many other ways to be mindful and many other ways to meditate. But that’s the basic outline. And it doesn’t require a great commitment of time. When I was in divinity school, a Zen teacher from Kyoto visited and led a period of meditation. At the end of the session, he took questions. “How long must I meditate to get something out of it?” asked one student. The Zen teacher thought for a moment, then pushed his glasses back up his nose and said, “Ten minutes in the morning, ten minutes at night.” (For the lawyers following along at home, that’s .2 in the morning and .2 at night.)

Okay, so mindfulness can help us battle stress. What does it have to do with civility?

I’ll be the first to insist that I’m still working on both mindfulness and civility. But I have noticed something over the years. When you practice mindfulness, you get better at seeing the objects in your head—the thoughts, the feelings—as just that: objects in your head. You grow a little less attached to them. You may learn to be downright skeptical of them. This distance between you and your thoughts helps you let go of harmful, toxic ideas. You do this letting-go more purposefully while you’re practicing meditation, but you can feel the effects off the cushion (or the chair), too.

Here are some examples.

You might think, “Man, this attorney really is a liar. I’m going to let them have it in this brief.” But that’s just a thought. You can acknowledge it without grabbing onto it. That distance creates the space for you to think, “Maybe they just made a mistake” or “maybe I’m the one who is missing something.” Ultimately, you might decide that the attorney really was being deceptive. But if that conclusion is the process of cool reflection rather than hostility, you might address it more effectively as an advocate.

Or you might think, “If I stipulate to an extension for the other side, people will think that I’m weak.” But that’s just a thought. If you can see it as an object, you create a little space to question the assumptions underlying it. Is it realistic that people will think a routine stipulation is a sign of weakness? And if someone really thinks that, do you value their opinion?

One more. Suppose you find yourself in one of those moments where you’re panicked about losing or you’re afraid you’ve made a mistake. When that kind of fear creates life-or-death thinking about things that are not life-or-death matters, it can lead to lashing out and overreaction. But putting some distance between yourself and your fear can sometimes dampen those impulses a bit.

If you’re interested in a compelling, secular introduction to mindfulness, try 10% Happier by ABC News correspondent-turned-meditation-advocate Dan Harris. He also has a fantastic podcast called “10% Happier.”