A choiceless choice
Ceylan Kara was a partner at a top American law firm. Leaving wasn't a decision. It was a recognition.

There is beauty and depth in Ceylan’s name alone. In Turkish, Ceylan means gazelle — a symbol of gracefulness, gentleness and beauty. This feels true of her as a person. Her presence is grounding, and she has a gift for communicating in elegant phrases. Her website reads:
“No one finds lasting fulfilment by becoming who they believe they’re expected to be.”
Originally from Turkey, Ceylan spent twelve years at a top-tier American law firm, eventually working her way to partnership before stepping away in 2019. Her career in law was thriving, yet she describes the closing of that chapter simply: “The journey felt complete.” The work that had once felt alive now resembled a marriage that had become merely functional.
Ceylan’s story doesn’t begin when she left law. It begins much earlier. She grew up in a spiritual household, reading holy books from the age of 13, exploring shamanic constellations at 17, and diving into esoteric studies in her twenties. For years she taught meditation alongside her legal career, while also training in somatic psychotherapy for four years. These practices were never meant to become her career.
And yet, slowly, almost imperceptibly, they began to pull her in that direction.
The crack widened after a six-week initiation journey in New Zealand. Coming home, she stood at what she describes as a fork in the road. The idea of continuing on her current path as a lawyer was impossible. It wasn’t a rational decision weighed on a list of pros and cons. It was, as she says, a “choiceless choice.”
What helped most was the work she had already been doing. Years of therapy, trauma healing, and depth work, supported by a strong community, gave her the resilience to stay the course. She emphasises that “the work happens before you quit.” Without that inner foundation, she says, it’s easy to be pulled back into old identities or make reactive choices.
Her transition was also gradual and intentional. At 34, she didn’t have a mortgage or children, and she had enough savings to give herself time to explore. She took an eighteen-month sabbatical and spent the next six years living nomadically, offering herself the space to reflect, rebuild, and slowly find her way forward.
She resisted the urge to monetise quickly, experimenting instead from a place of aliveness rather than financial necessity. “I wasn’t experimenting from the place of ‘I need this to pay rent,’ but from the place of ‘this is where I come alive.’”
Seven years on, Ceylan has built a thriving practice at the intersection of somatic therapy and depth work, helping individuals and groups navigate intimacy and embody their deepest sense of purpose. She pairs the pragmatism of her legal background with the depth of her spiritual path. What I admire most is her refusal to give easy advice. Instead, she points people back to themselves: “do your inner work, don’t leap reactively, and make sure your decision comes from a clean place”.
Ceylan’s story isn’t one of burnout or disillusionment. It’s the story of someone being called into a deeper expression of herself. It was a call that could no longer be ignored. Her decision to leave law wasn’t an escape but a movement toward integrity, love, and spiritual freedom, even when it meant letting go of certainty, prestige, and a clearly defined identity.
What I keep returning to in Ceylan’s story is her refusal to make it sound easier than it was. She did the work, for years, before the work was visible from the outside as anything at all.
The work happens before you quit, she told me. Without it, she said, it’s too easy to be pulled back into old identities, to make reactive choices, to mistake escape for calling. I think this is the line that separates the transitions that hold from the ones that don’t. The outer move is the visible part. But what makes it possible, and what makes it last, is everything that happened in the quiet years before.
James Hollis writes that to engage with the summons of our souls is to step into the deepest ocean, uncertain whether we’ll be able to swim to some new, distant shore. For some the entry is gradual. Others are pushed suddenly into deep waters. Ceylan, I think, walked in slowly. Year by year. Until the shore behind her was no longer where she lived.
If Ceylan's story resonated, you can find her at ceylankara.com. She's a facilitator of depth-oriented transformation, trained in complex developmental trauma as a Master NARM Practitioner and in somatic psychotherapy. She works with individuals and groups arriving at fulfilment in relationships, work and life.
About Work Worth Doing
Work Worth Doing is a space for people who’ve outgrown a professional career they’ve spent years building, and aren’t sure about what comes next. You’ll find essays on identity, purpose and finding fulfilment outside of work too.
I work 1:1 with people transitioning from a professional career into meaningful work. To learn more about how coaching can support you, book a consultation or learn more below.
First published in Work Worth Doing, my newsletter on the identity shifts, permission barriers and confidence blocks that stand between you and the work you want to do.