Crafting Your Path as a Person-Centred Lawyer

Chei Liang Sin, MC, LLB
A dirt road in the middle of a forest with trees covered in leaves.

Finding the right path forward

Congratulations! You have come a long way, from being qualified for law schools, to securing training contracts in the midst of Covid-19 pandemic, and finally to being admitted to the Bar! This is indeed a memorable moment to celebrate, and be proud of your achievements thus far, but also the time to take stock and reflect on your path forward.


For those of you who have a clear idea of the practice area in which you want to start your legal career, and have been offered a job – you are among the more fortunate ones. Many others, as I understand, are still pondering about which practice area or which firm to join. As a Panelled Counsellor under the Law care program and Career Path scheme of the Law Society, I have often been approached by young lawyers who wonder whether they are suited for what they are doing, or even whether law practice is for them.


By now, you would probably have a taste of the two main practice areas – Disputes and Corporate, and you might have been given a glimpse of some of the more focused practice areas. Hopefully, through your training and speaking to practitioners in the relevant practice areas, you would have an idea how it is like to be a disputes lawyer vs a corporate lawyer, and you have formed an opinion which practice area you are more inclined towards. In deciding which practice area is most suited for you, I encourage you to reflect and evaluate your values, interests, strengths and weaknesses.


Values


Do ask yourself what is most important to you in your legal career? Why did you choose to be a lawyer in the first place? Do you see yourself as the sort of justice lawyer who would Fight for the underdog and make a difference to the society? Do you have a passion to serve the community and be involved in family law matters? Or are you attracted to the corporate world where deals are made and solutions are created? I would urge you to follow your passion as well as your mission in choosing your practice, because if you are doing something fulfilling and meaningful to you, you will have more capacity to put in the hard work.


Interests


Some of you love advocacy and could see yourself arguing in court. Some might be interested to see how a deal is structured, and what goes into a contract between two opposing parties. Many are attuned to technology and have a flair for the applications of intellectual properties. There are also lawyers who prefer the more routine type of work with manageable pace. Whatever your interests and temperament, there would be some practice areas within the diverse legal profession that might suit you.


Strengths and weaknesses


As lawyers, we are usually better in some traits but not everything. Some have great advocacy skills, and the knack for strategising to win in court. Some others are good solution creators, and have the capability to draft ideas into contracts. Many have good interpersonal skills, and are skilled in people management and project management. Learning to play to your strengths and recognise your weaknesses, is part of the process in finding the right path for yourselves.


Never too late


You may not land yourself at the most suited firm or practice area at the first instance, and you may only discover that after a few years of trying out different firms or practice areas. However, do take heart that everything that you do in your early years of practice will only make you better in your next job. So, it would not be a waste of your time and effort if you need to take a few years to find your path, and it is never too late to change course. Even if you come to realise that the law profession is not for you after several years, you would have mastered some useful skill sets and made some good friends along the way, and your experiences would only enrich you.


Being a person-centred lawyer


I had learned in my master’s course in counselling (after my career as a corporate lawyer in private practice for over 25 years), that the three core conditions highlighted by Carl Rogers (1977) for being a person-centred therapist or counsellor are -- non-judgemental, congruence and empathy. As I look back, I realise that I had, albeit not consciously, actually applied the same three conditions, during my time as a lawyer. I would partly attribute to my practising of these conditions for being successful in sustaining myself all those years a  a transactional corporate lawyer in a highly stressful environment.


Non-judgemental


As a lawyer, we owe our duty to our clients (subject to the overriding duty owed to the court and upholding the law). Clients come in all forms and shapes; some are more demanding or idiosyncratic than others. It is not your place to judge your clients, regardless of your personal opinion or moral/ethics standards. It is your duty to act in the best interest of you clients, and advance their goals and objectives as instructed.


The same principle of having positive regard would apply to treating the people whom you work with, subject to reasonable standards of respect, non-discrimination and boundaries.


It would greatly facilitate your work, if you focus on the objective of the case/transaction and the task at hand, and not let your personal judgement of the clients or colleagues affect your emotions and stand in the way. Avoid personalising or labelling of others or yourself, and try to be rational, open-minded and receptive to others, including your subordinates.


Congruence


It is of utmost importance that we stay true to ourselves at all times, and act in a manner that is congruent with our feelings. If you are having difficulty with certain issues, take control of the issues and face them up-front. If you do not find your work fulfilling, reflect on what you are doing and whether it accords with your values and passion. If you are experiencing burnout, evaluate your actions and working environment, and take steps for self-care or have a change of environment. If your health is suffering or your personal life is falling apart because of your work, take stock of your current priorities in life.


It also pays to be sincere and honest with your clients and the people that your work with. If you think you are not able to meet certain deadlines, it is better to be truthful about it and manage the client’s or your supervisor’s expectations. If you have made any mistake, take ownership and apologise for it. If you disagree with your client’s or your co-worker’s approach, share your views in a respectful way.


You will earn the respect of your clients and colleagues by being congruent and mature, and managing any issues in a professional manner.


Empathy


For a lawyer to be effective, besides being technically sound, he/she needs to be good at reading people, reading the room/court, and understanding the issues or situations. It is therefore important to have empathy, the ability to put yourself in the shoes of others, and try to understand the situation from the perspective of your client, the counter-party, the opposing counsel, and other stakeholders. By understanding the client and other opposing side, you will be in a better position to provide a good solution to satisfy the parties concerned.


Similarly, having empathy for the people that you work with will reduce a lot of workplace conflicts. Looking from the other person’s perspective and not jumping to conclusion are important traits for enhancing healthy working relationships. From what I can see, empathy appears to be a rare commodity within the legal profession. This could be due to the high level of pressure from top down, causing everybody to be single-mindedly concerned about meeting his/her own performance targets or deadlines. Practising empathy will enhance your emotional intelligence which is an asset that is just as important, if not more, as your technical skills in sustaining your law practice.


However, above all, you must always have self-compassion, and not be too critical about yourself or your mistakes. Having a high but realistic standard for your work is fine, but trying to be perfect is unhealthy as there is no such thing as being “perfect”. You should not be afraid to make mistakes, as you learn by making mistakes, just like any other senior lawyers in the profession.


Parting words


As a newly admitted lawyer, do take your time to explore and find the right path for yourself, and a firm that offers the right fit for you. Try practising the key conditions of being a person-centred lawyer -- by being non-critical, congruent and empathic, to self and others. If there are more person-centred lawyers in the legal industry, it would be more sustainable for young lawyers to remain in the profession for the long haul.


Once again, congratulations, and best wishes to you in crafting your path forward.


Chei Liang Sin, a Law Society counselor, contributed the above article in the August 2021 issue of the Law Gazette, to share her thoughts and advice with the newly-called lawyers who have just been admitted to the Singapore Bar. Chei Liang believes that the same considerations and philosophies would apply to any other professions or careers. If you would like to seek career counseling or coaching, feel free to contact Chei Liang at [email protected].


About the Author: Originally from Malaysia, Chei Liang Sin has lived in Singapore for the past 30 years. She speaks English, Mandarin and Cantonese. A former corporate lawyer, Chei Liang made the career change to be a counsellor because she wanted to touch people's lives in a more meaningful way. She works with clients on various mental health issues and also provides career counselling. Read Full Bio >

By Aki Tsukui (Leadership & Systemic Coach) April 2, 2026
Family is often where love begins. It is our first experience of connection, belonging, and identity. Within the family system, we learn how to give and receive love, how to relate to others, and how to see ourselves in the world. At its best, family can be a place of deep nourishment: a source of strength, safety, and unconditional support. And yet, for many of us, family can also feel complicated. There may be moments of tension that seem disproportionate, patterns that repeat across generations, or emotional burdens that are difficult to explain. We may find ourselves reacting in ways we don’t fully understand, feeling responsible for others in ways that feel heavy, or struggling to step into our own lives freely. This is because family is not just about the people we see. It is also about the invisible threads that connect us across generations. The Hidden Dynamics of Family  Every family system carries a history. Alongside love, there may also be unresolved grief, unspoken pain, losses that were never fully processed, and experiences that were too overwhelming to be integrated at the time. These experiences do not simply disappear. Instead, they often live on within the system, quietly shaping the dynamics of future generations. This can show up as what we call entanglements—where one family member, often unconsciously, carries emotions, roles, or burdens that do not fully belong to them. For example, a child may feel an unexplained sadness that mirrors a grandparent’s unresolved grief. Someone may take on the role of “holding the family together,” even at the expense of their own well-being. Others may struggle with relationships, self-worth, or a sense of belonging, without understanding the deeper roots of these experiences. These patterns are not signs that something is “wrong” with us. Rather, they reflect a deep loyalty to our family system. At an unconscious level, there is often a desire to remain connected, to belong, to honor those who came before us, and to ensure that no one in the system is forgotten. The Flow of Love In family constellation work, there is a concept known as the flow of love. Love, in its natural state, flows from those who came before to those who come after: from parents to children, and from ancestors to descendants. When this flow is unobstructed, it supports a sense of grounding, vitality, and ease. We feel supported by what came before us, while being free to move forward into our own lives. However, when there are disruptions, such as trauma, exclusion, or unresolved events, the flow of love can become blocked or distorted. For example: When a child feels the need to care for a parent emotionally, the natural order is reversed. When a family member is excluded or not acknowledged, others in the system may unconsciously “represent” them. When trauma is not processed, its emotional imprint may be carried by future generations. These disruptions are not caused by a lack of love. In fact, they are often expressions of love: just in forms that have become entangled. Understanding Intergenerational Trauma What we often refer to as “intergenerational trauma” is the transmission of emotional experiences, survival patterns, and coping mechanisms across generations. This can include: Loss and grief that were never fully expressed War, displacement, or migration experiences Family secrets or hidden histories Patterns of abandonment, rejection, or emotional absence Survival strategies that once served a purpose but are no longer needed These experiences can shape how individuals relate to themselves and others, often outside of conscious awareness. It is important to approach this with compassion. Our ancestors did the best they could with the resources they had. Many carried burdens that were too great to process at the time. What we experience today is often a continuation of those unfinished stories, not as a burden to blame, but as an invitation to bring awareness and healing. Family Constellation: Bringing the Invisible to Light Family constellation work offers a powerful way to explore these hidden dynamics. Through this approach, individuals are able to “map” their family system and observe the relationships, patterns, and entanglements that may be present. What is often revealed is not just personal, but systemic showing how individual experiences are connected to a larger family context. Another important principle in this work is that everyone belongs. This includes not only those we know and remember, but also those who may have been forgotten, excluded, or never spoken about—such as miscarried or aborted children, former partners, or family members who experienced difficult fates. Even if their stories were hidden or unknown, they remain part of the family system. When someone is excluded, the system often seeks balance by unconsciously including them through another member. Gently acknowledging and giving each person their rightful place allows the system to settle, restoring a deeper sense of harmony and connection. One of the most profound aspects of this work is that it allows what has been unseen to be acknowledged. When forgotten or excluded members are recognized, when grief is given space, and when each person is seen in their rightful place within the system, something begins to shift. The system moves toward balance. The flow of love is restored, not by changing the past, but by relating to it differently. Returning What Is Not Ours A key part of healing within the family system is learning to gently release what does not belong to us. This does not mean rejecting our family or disconnecting from our roots. Rather, it is about honoring our connection while allowing each person to carry their own experiences. This can look like: Recognizing when we are holding emotions that may not fully be ours Releasing the need to fix or carry others Acknowledging our parents and ancestors as they are, without needing them to be different Taking our place as the next generation, receiving life and moving forward There is a quiet strength in this process. It allows us to remain connected, while also reclaiming our own path. The Possibility of Healing Healing within the family system does not require perfection. It begins with awareness. As we become more conscious of the patterns we carry, we create space for choice. We are no longer moving purely from inherited dynamics: we are able to respond with intention, presence, and clarity. This is where transformation happens. When we restore the natural flow of love, we not only support our own well-being. We also create a shift for future generations. The patterns that once repeated can begin to soften. The burdens that were once carried can be laid down. In this way, healing is both personal and collective. Honoring Where We Come From Family is not always simple. It can be a place of great beauty and deep challenge. It can hold both love and pain, connection and complexity. To truly engage with family is to embrace both aspects: to honor the love that exists, while also acknowledging the parts that are difficult. When we do this with openness and compassion, we create the possibility for something new. We begin to relate to our family not just from habit or conditioning, but from awareness. And from this place, love can flow more freely supporting us as we step into our own lives, while staying rooted in where we come from. There is a quiet wisdom within every family system, always moving toward balance and wholeness. When we are willing to turn toward what has been unseen with openness and respect, healing begins to unfold in its own time and way. As the flow of love is restored, we find ourselves both deeply rooted and gently freed: able to walk forward in life supported by those who came before us, rather than bound by what was left unresolved. For those who feel called to explore this work more deeply, we offer Family Constellation sessions in a variety of formats, including in-person and online, as well as individual and group settings, creating safe and supportive spaces for this gentle yet powerful process of healing and reconnection.
By Jason Woolley March 18, 2026
In recent years, the language of the “nervous system reset” has become increasingly common in wellbeing spaces. Guided relaxation sessions, breathwork classes, meditation workshops, and practices such as NSDR (Non‑Sleep Deep Rest) are often presented as opportunities to step out of stress and return the body to a calmer state. In many ways, this reflects something positive. For people living and working in high‑pressure environments, simply discovering that the nervous system can settle - even temporarily - can be an important experience. When the mind quiets and the body softens, many people realise something they may not have known before: calm is actually possible. Spaces that support rest, reflection, and nervous system regulation can therefore be valuable. They offer a pause in a world that rarely stops moving. But the popularity of the “reset” also reveals something deeper about the conditions many people are living under. For many professionals, life can begin to feel like a cycle of pressure followed by brief relief. A demanding week leads to a meditation class, a breathwork session, a yoga practice, or a relaxation workshop. For an hour or two the nervous system unwinds. Then the session ends, the lights come back on, and the same environment - the same demands, expectations, and internal pressures - are waiting outside. The relief is real. But it is also temporary. This cycle can leave people feeling as though calm exists somewhere outside their daily life, accessible only through occasional experiences designed to reset the system. Yet the nervous system was never designed to be repeatedly “reset”. It evolved to adapt. Long‑term resilience rarely develops through repeated escapes from stress. Instead, it develops when we gradually change how our body and mind relate to pressure itself. This is where deeper forms of psychological and embodied work become meaningful. In counselling, part of the work involves understanding the internal patterns that amplify stress - the beliefs, relational dynamics, and emotional histories that shape how experiences land in the nervous system. At the same time, embodied disciplines offer another pathway. Traditions such as Taiji and Qigong were developed over centuries as methods for regulating the interaction between mind, breath, and body. Their aim is not to produce a temporary state of relaxation. Instead, through consistent practice, they gradually change how the system responds to challenge. Over time, the body learns to release unnecessary tension more quickly. Breath settles naturally. Attention becomes steadier. External pressures may remain the same, but the way they land internally begins to shift. This process is sometimes misunderstood in modern wellness culture. Taiji, for example, is often seen as gentle exercise or slow movement in the park. But within traditional systems of practice, it is something more structured and transformative - a method of cultivating internal balance, resilience, and energy through sustained personal practice. It does not promise a quick nervous system reset. Instead, it invites a longer journey of learning how to live within the nervous system you already have. For many people, the most meaningful shift happens when calm is no longer something that needs to be found outside of daily life. It becomes something that can gradually be carried within it. And from there, resilience stops being something you temporarily borrow from a workshop or retreat. It becomes something you quietly build. ----- Moments of rest and nervous system regulation can be helpful starting points. But lasting change often emerges through deeper exploration and consistent practice. Counselling, reflective work, and embodied disciplines such as Taiji and breath-based practices can support a gradual shift in how the mind and body respond to pressure. If this perspective resonates with you, you are welcome to reach out to learn more about the ways these approaches can be explored together.
By Aki Tsukui February 4, 2026
When we hear the word intimacy , we often think of sex: touch, desire, romance. Yet true intimacy lives far beyond these moments. It is felt in silence, in a shared glance, and in the quiet courage it takes to be fully present with yourself, with another, and with life itself. Real intimacy does not begin by reaching outward. It begins within. In the rhythm of your breath. In the pulse of life moving through your body. In the willingness to meet yourself honestly and gently. Meeting Yourself The deepest intimacy is the relationship you cultivate with your own heart. To meet yourself is to witness your thoughts, contradictions, joys, and aches without judgment or urgency. Can you stay present with fear rather than turning away? Can you allow sadness to settle in your chest and still honor it as meaningful? Can you sense the subtle movement of breath and energy within you? In moments of stillness and awareness, we often discover how much of ourselves we have learned to hide: emotions pushed aside, sensations ignored, patterns inherited and carried unconsciously. Yet every doorway to genuine connection already exists inside you. When you reclaim your inner world, you reconnect with the source from which all intimacy flows. Being Felt Emotional intimacy is not something we explain; it is something we allow. It lives in presence in the unguarded moment, the pause that stretches, the vulnerability that remains uncovered. To be emotionally intimate is to let the quiet pulse of your inner life meet another without the need to justify or repair it. Breath becomes a bridge, gently moving awareness between your inner world and the shared space. In this soft surrender, the heart remembers that it is safe to open, to soften, to simply be. Being Known Psychological intimacy asks for the courage to see and name the patterns that shape how we move through the world: our fears, defenses, and habitual ways of relating. “I withdraw when I feel unseen.” “I hesitate to ask for support because I fear being a burden.” These patterns rarely belong only to us. They often arise from family systems, ancestral histories, and cultural conditioning, unseen forces carried across generations. When we begin to recognize these influences, compassion naturally deepens. We stop judging ourselves and instead meet our patterns with curiosity and care, honoring the lineage that lives within us. Meeting Beyond Roles Spiritual intimacy emerges when roles and narratives fall away. It is found in the space between breaths, in shared silence, and in the quiet recognition of essence meeting essence. It may appear while sitting together in stillness, in a gaze that needs no explanation, or while walking side by side through ordinary moments that suddenly feel sacred. When attention softens and awareness deepens, intimacy arises naturally. Breath, presence, and a wider systemic awareness allow us to meet one another with greater freedom, depth, and reverence. Intimacy Beyond Another You do not need another person to access this depth of closeness. Intimacy can be cultivated entirely within. In moments of stillness, you may begin to honor every layer of your being. As your breath deepens, its rhythm may echo the larger cycles of life. Subtle currents of energy become more perceptible, as does the quiet presence of ancestral threads shaping your experience. When inner intimacy is nurtured, relationships transform. Connection is no longer about filling a void, but about resonance: two beings meeting from wholeness rather than need. The Sacredness of Vulnerability To be intimate is to be seen and being seen can feel risky. Old wounds, inherited fears, and unmet needs often surface, making closeness feel uncomfortable. Yet vulnerability is the doorway. Breath and embodied awareness gently anchor you in the present, reminding you that you are alive, supported, and connected. As presence meets presence, intimacy deepens naturally. Intimacy as a Way of Being Intimacy is not something to earn or achieve. It is a state of presence, openness, and deep respect for life. It lives in meeting yourself with compassion, keeping your heart soft even in the presence of fear, holding space for another without expectation, and recognizing the sacred thread that runs through all connection. As you move through the days ahead, you might gently notice where intimacy is already presentin your breath, in moments of quiet honesty with yourself, in the spaces between words. There is nothing to strive for and nothing to fix. Intimacy is already here, waiting to be met. Warmly, Aki Tsukui