Here I am at Boston Logan, ready to embark on the last flight to Italy after attending the centennial celebration of the LL.M. program—one hundred years of history, tradition, and growth.
I must admit, the event exceeded my expectations. Beyond the networking activities and the gala dinner, it was filled with thought-provoking discussions, fascinating talks, and interactive workshops. Some attendees stayed to dive deeper into the talks, while others chose to take a walk along the Charles River or took their families to the Coop (the main Harvard store) for some Crimson shopping.
Reasonable decisions, all in all.
But this post isn’t about the event itself. It’s inspired by one of the discussion groups I attended— where Conrado (speaking of successful lawyers, he certainly belongs on that list) asked a question that resonated a lot with me since: What was the biggest lesson you took away from your time at Harvard?
As luck would have it, I had already spent considerable time reflecting on that (lawyers and bloggers tend to be reflective types, after all…). Therefore the answer came swiftly and naturally— the biggest lesson was learning to say no.
When I was at Harvard, I was teetering on the edge of frustration. There were simply too many things to do and not enough time to do them all. Some days, I had three courses to attend, a mountain of work to get through, a class event, and a reception hosted by a prestigious firm. I could only choose two of the options available.
On other days, there would be three fascinating lunchtime talks, and no matter how much I wanted to attend all of them, it just wasn’t possible. The only alternative would have been teleportation, but despite my efforts I haven’t quite achieved that goal (yet).
For law geeks, Harvard can feel like a child set loose in a candy store: there’s so much to indulge in. However, ultimately, you’re constrained by human capacity, so despite living a sleepless and hectic life—one year in Cambridge could easily feel like three years elsewhere—, there is no escaping to the fact that you have to draw boundaries. And that you’ll miss a lot of opportunities.
Now, have I mastered this lesson? Not entirely.
Being a professional driven by enthusiasm and having a curious, hyperactive mind haven’t exactly made it easy. I’m someone who wants to experience all the great things that life has to offer, who enjoys embracing opportunities, and could literally see the beauty in every talk with strangers.
So here I am at Logan, with a bunch of questions rambling in my mind.
What’s the article I chose not to write after receiving an invitation?
What’s the client or the project I decided not to take on?
What’s the conference speech I chose not to deliver?
Maybe I have already stopped chasing for opportunities. And that’s a good start. But being a natural magnet is not enough, because lots of opportunities will come anyway. And that’s where the (hard) game begins.
So, it seems there’s a lot left to learn. And a lot more to act on. But while it’s a tough lesson to internalize, it’s an exhilarating ride nonetheless.