As peddlers of words, meaning and nuance — in other words, reading and writing between the lines — we lawyers understand that words are important. They carry weight.

We slice through sentences, parse through words, look out for the “mays” versus the “shalls.” Dancing amongst words is our bread and butter and, for some, a loved passion.

Accordingly, we can appreciate the connotation and effect of mental health versus mental well-being. The former phrase is sterile, punitive, distilling, subject to diagnosis and prognosis. The latter, instead conjures up taking shade under a palm tree, stretching a yoga pose, a bite of cake, a sip of chardonnay, a breath, reprieve, an inner mantra to slow down, you are okay.

If we focused on our mental well-being rather than mental health, would we choose differently? Would we be more compassionate and loving toward ourselves and others?

We recognize the importance of well-being. It’s an inclusive phrase. It has positive effects on others in our circles, in our communities, in our firms and courts. Whereas one’s mental health is an inward focus, more solitary, medical/scientific driven, alone — leaving one isolated. Ironically, the opposite of what one needs when having a mental health or rather well-being crisis.

A crisis of mental health simply does not sound or feel like a crisis of mental well-being.

Am I being pedantic, overly sensitive or naïve? I don’t believe so. The former phrase has an attached stigma to it. This stigma carries weight in a profession that leaves no room for weakness. This, despite the countless conferences, articles and reminders that we should make room for our well-being and to embrace our vulnerabilities. How do we do this when we are often tasked with being gladiators in conflict that never seems to end? Many of us remain silent in our deeply personal yet universal struggles with our mental well-being. We’re often afraid to speak of it to another, let alone acknowledge it to ourselves.

Perhaps the starting point is adopting more inclusive and compassionate language and permitting this discourse to shape our individual and collective lives.

It’s clear that our words shape our thoughts. We are guided and transformed by our language. This is not mere self-help talk but rather, it’s the essence of our trade, our provision of services to the public. We translate and distill our client’s stories through words. We carefully select the language in our briefs, submissions, correspondence and contracts because our words carry significance.

If we adopt the inclusive terminology of our collective and individual mental well-being rather than mental health, we are consciously selecting a more positive and inclusive narrative and thus changing the often clinical and judgemental narrative on such an important topic. It is even more important in our profession, where we have such significant stressors. In which other profession do we dance with two universal fears of engaging in conflict and public speaking? This in addition to our daily struggles and joys as human beings living in a dynamic world.

In short, our words matter just like our mental well-being.