Great Words of Wisdom
by Mary Schmich
Ladies and gentlemen
of the class of '97;
Wear sunscreen.
If I could offer you
only one tip for the future sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of
sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no
basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this
advice now.
Enjoy the power and
beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and
beauty of your youth until they’ve faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you’ll look
back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much
possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as
fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the
future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an
algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real trouble in your life are apt to
be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4
pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day
that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with
other people’s hearts. Don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss...
Don’t waste your time
on jealousy.
Sometimes you’re
ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with
yourself.
Remember compliments
you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love
letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if
you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I
know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most
interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees.
You’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry,
maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll
divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding
anniversary. Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much, or berate
yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else’s.
Dance, even if you
have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions,
even if you don’t follow them.
Do not read beauty
magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your
parents. You never know when they’ll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings.
They’re your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you
in the future.
Understand that
friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to
bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more
you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City
once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but
leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain
inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You too, will
get old. And when you do, you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were
reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone
else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you’ll have a wealthy
spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much
with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose
advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of
nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping
it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the
sunscreen.
Mary Schmich
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