Discover how Buddhist principles of radical generosity can transform law into an act of true service. Learn about Dāna, the ancient practice of selfless giving, and explore how these ideas are being applied in law to help people. Go to https://www.ivansteelelaw.com/how-i-practice-law-differently-with-compassion-simplicity-and-purpose to learn more.
In a city of gleaming towers and relentless ambition, where success is measured in square footage, prestige, and returns on investment, Toronto-based lawyer Ivan Steele is quietly leading a revolution—not in court, but in spirit.
An immigration and family lawyer with almost 17 years of practice, Ivan Steele made a decision some years ago that startles even the most progressive circles: he gave everything away.
He gifted his Jeep to someone who needed it more. He sold his century home—an elegant, character-filled property that had been a dream come true. He parted with irreplaceable heirlooms: furniture, books, paintings, even silverware, each piece heavy with personal and historical memory. He dresses in simple, practical clothing, and lives in a modest rented space, adorned with Buddhist practice objects. He owns no real estate, no car, no investments, and keeps practically no personal wealth.
More astonishing still, Steele donates 90% of his income— to charity and to those in need, and underfunded Buddhist monasteries around the world. He keeps almost nothing for himself, aside from essentials., And he has never felt more free.
Steele’s life-altering decision is rooted in an ancient Buddhist principle: Dāna—a Sanskrit and Pāli word meaning generosity, or selfless giving. It is the first of the Ten Perfections (Pāramitās), regarded in Buddhism as the foundation of the spiritual path.
“Dāna isn't just about charity,” Steele explains. “It’s about letting go—of ego, attachment, fear. When we give without expecting anything in return, we’re not just helping others. We’re transforming ourselves. We’re loosening the grip of the self.” To give not from surplus, but from identity—to be the giving—is a spiritual practice so rare in our time that it appears almost unrecognizable and scary.
Steele’s actions stand in stark contrast to the prevailing culture of hyper-consumption, especially in legal circles of billable hours. In a society trained to equate success with accumulation, where lawyers often climb toward greater material comfort, his renunciation seems almost subversive.
But that is precisely the point.
“What we call ‘security’ is often just samsaric bondage,” he says, invoking the Buddhist concept of cyclic suffering. “We hoard things—houses, diplomas, relationships, identities—hoping they’ll make us feel permanent, worthy, safe. But everything is impermanent. Letting go is not a loss. It’s a liberation.”
Despite renouncing material wealth, Steele remains deeply engaged in legal practice. His clients include international couples navigating Canada’s immigration system, families seeking peaceful separation, and queer communities facing systemic exclusion. But he practices law as an act of compassion, not commerce.
“I see each file as an offering,” he says. “Each contract I draft, each application I prepare—it’s a prayer. Law doesn’t have to be about power. It can be about healing.”
Unlike many in the profession, Steele refuses to litigate in adversarial settings, focusing instead on collaborative law and trauma-informed advocacy. His goal isn’t to win—it’s to serve. And for those he serves, that distinction is everything.
While rooted in spiritual values, Steele’s actions also serve as a critique of systemic inequity. In giving away his earnings and living simply, he exposes the absurdity of a system in which justice is too often reserved for the privileged.
“True generosity,” he says, “is a form of protest. It’s saying: I refuse to participate in a world where dignity is bought and sold.”
In this way, Dāna becomes not only a spiritual practice, but a political one. A way to live differently. A way to be different.
Steele’s renunciation is not a spectacle. It is not an aesthetic. It is not a phase or gimmick. “He gave up everything,” said a colleague, “and somehow he has more to give than ever. His presence—his clarity—it's like being in the room with someone who’s not performing anything. Just being. Just serving.”
What most of us see as deprivation, he experiences as peace.
“There’s a strange kind of joy that comes from being unburdened,” he reflects. “When you own nothing, you belong to everything.”
The story of Ivan Steele is not meant to inspire imitation, but introspection. What would change if you believed you already had enough? Would you give more? Love more? Let go more easily? Would you be less afraid?
Would you, perhaps, finally feel free?
For Steele, the path forward is not through more. It is through less. Less ego. Less fear. Less clinging. And in that spaciousness, a profound abundance arises—not of things, but of meaning.
Even in Toronto. Even in 2025. Even as a lawyer. Click on the link in the description to learn more! Ivan Steele Law City: Toronto Address: 473 Sackville Street Website: https://www.ivansteelelaw.com/