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My thoughts
Have you ever participated in a marathon? Well, I had. Back in the military, it was a very memorable 21 kilometres run. I recall running and stopping and running and stopping. I was such an amateur; the three months of training were obviously not enough to prepare me for such a tall order. My bright neon yellow runners newly purchased merely a day in anticipation of this event, were simply a waste of money. They gave me blisters and forced me to stop constantly. The truth was, I have not even established a real relationship with those shoes; I have not even ran a mile in them. Now fast forward to present day: A good friend of mine from Singapore - let's call her 'M' - rang me up one day. M was surprised to hear my voice. She then went on to tell me that she wasn't expecting me to answer her phone call. She was worried about disturbing me because she knows about the crazy hours that I put into my clients' cases. I recall mom saying exactly the same thing. My elderly mother had briefly, on several occasions, mentioned that when she doesn't hear from me (I normally ring her once a week or a fortnight), she wanted to ring me, but she was too afraid to do so, because she did not want to interrupt my work. This includes after hours and on weekends. Mom knew the long hours I put in. Like most mothers would worry about their children, my mom always wanted to know if I took my meals regularly, or whether I had adequate rests. Coming back to M, she asked me what did I value the most? Was it earning enough money to pay the bills or to provide for the family back home in Singapore? Was it done for the love of the law? Or was it because I carry such a heavy burden of assuming the responsibility to fight for all my clients' legal rights? What do I value the most? Am I chasing daylight like Gene O Kelly? Not too long ago, and almost on a daily basis, I was walking towards Flinders Train Station with my pupil-master, MP, who always took the train home - come rain or shine - he loved to walk a very specific route towards the station from Leo Cussen Chambers situated at Little Bourke Street. When we reached the station, I noticed MP taking out at least a twenty dollar note; he put it into the hands of a rather unkempt-looking, toothless man seated on the floor at the station. In my ignorance and immaturity, I assumed he looked very much like a drug addict, who was begging for money to make his next purchase for drugs. I asked MP if he ever considered that the money he gave to the man, would be used to purchase drugs. My pupil-master then looked at me and very sternly told me that before I judge that man, I have to walk at least a mile in his shoes before I could do so. Lesson learnt: If I wanted to be a decent person, I should have removed the plank in my eyes.