I'm Younger than that Now

On Christmas Day, with all of our kids spending the day with their in-laws, Sue and I went to see the Bob Dylan biopic, “A Complete Unknown.” As a longtime Dylan fan, I was inspired by the film.

The movie depicts Bob's reinvention of himself from folk troubadour to rock and roll artist. Beyond the scope of the film, he has constantly reinvented himself throughout his career, and that’s what I want to focus on.

How do you remain true to traditions while simultaneously evolving?

As we age, we tend to default into the "that's how we’ve always done it” mentality. Traditions become habits, and habits then define us.

On the other hand, some revolutionary personalities want to throw out everything and start over.

I think the career of Bob Dylan represents the middle path that we should all aspire to.

While the movie reflects his move from folk to electric as revolutionary, the reality was different. Bob evolved, building on the foundations of the blues, country, jazz, and yes, folk music as well.

His shape changed, but not his substance. And it has continued to change throughout his sixty-year career. A revolutionary burns down the house and then rebuilds it. A traditionalist never changes. Bob Dylan neither torched the house nor sat stagnant in the living room. He simply redecorated it and continues to do so to this day.

How many other artists can we think of that did the same thing? Picasso comes to mind. And he’s still relevant and appreciated to this day.

When my son John asked about the movie, I informed him that it had inspired me. But I couldn't really tell him why. At that time my inspiration was purely visceral; I couldn't articulate why I felt as I did. But now I can.

We need to reinvent ourselves and our work to remain relevant and viable. We need to build on past success and wisdom and shape it into a modern schema. Some think that their identity is fixed. It’s not. We all contain multitudes, as Walt Whitman observed (and echoed by Bob in his song, “I Contain Multitudes,” on his last album).

Law school taught me to cherish tradition, that change should be glacial, and the preference remains in favor of the old ways. But as I matured and learned more about the ways of the world, I rejected that model. As Bob sings in “My Back Pages,” ... “but I was so much older then; I’m younger than that now.”

Part of my success is due to my willingness to embrace change. In the 1990s I was one of the first lawyers in my community to embrace email and a paperless format. Often, I'd have to drag my staff along, kicking and screaming, but eventually they appreciated the change. I have continuously practiced Kaizen, constant and never-ending improvement. And this requires refinement and often change.

While I’m not an artist (or genius like Bob) I value regular reassessment to improve how we do things. Change merely to change makes no sense, but neither does immobility because “we’ve always done it this way.”

In a law practice environment, regular transformation improves service, invigorates the office, and keeps things fresh. And for me personally, like Bob, it keeps me forever young.