I love graduations. Most people cry at weddings but I cry at graduations. I used to cry at baptisms until they became weekly occurrences. 

Graduations are so hopeful, hope being the active ingredient for achievement, along with tenacity and sacrifice. I can’t get my fill of graduation stories, especially the role models each student holds up.

I love the pageantry and fanfare. The music, balloons and hats tossed in the air. The manicured lawns dotted with families who have come together for the occasion, each posing for pictures with their graduates.

My husband was the only person in the audience who stood and clapped at my college graduation. (PDAs weren’t common in those days.) We were dating then and I made a mental note of his courage and sweetness. 

Graduations take me back to my youth when everything was before me. When I had a more hydrated glow and I asked myself, ‘Why not?’ to every possibility that came along. When I had no baggage, just dreams and conviction.

But the main reason I love graduations is the speeches.

I can’t remember who spoke at any of my graduations or what they said but I remember every one since because they refuel me. Graduations are truly commencements of not only the graduates but also those who are part of the celebration: lessons in achieving goals; and chances to atone for the commitments we haven’t accomplished. Age has a way of revealing the big picture and helping us see that we weren’t so far off track in following our hearts as we originally thought but in my graduating days, I felt like I was drowning or starting over…continually. 

When I worked at Spelman in the mid 1980s, I went to Commencement every year. I remember Cecily Tyson saying if you have one person you can call a friend when you die you are a very lucky person. And Bill Cosby urging graduates to “Go Forth” into the world. If you dare to venture home there will be a sign on the mailbox saying GO FORTH and, if you miss that, you’ll discover that your bedroom was given to your little sister. 

However, my favorite commencement speaker was Admiral William Crowe, former Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, whom I heard at Connecticut College a few years ago. His insights and delivery were so motivating and sincere, he will always be my ideal.  

Still, I’ve never heard the type of speech that could have taught me what 40 years of jobs and relationships has given me. I know there are no shortcuts but it sure would have been great to have heard - at age 18 or 22 – what I now believe to be most helpful. And the wisdom could have come from someone I met on the subway; it didn’t have to originate from a speech, or a parent, teacher or mentor. 

Here is the graduation speech and the advice I wish I’d heard.

First, follow your passion aggressively, as soon as you identify it. Why? So you can make as much headway as possible during your lifetime, and derive corresponding pleasure. It’s possible that I heard such advice and it didn’t hit home with me, without the experience I subsequently gained from traveling down so many diverse roads. In any case, it took me a long time to stumble upon writing professionally because I had lots of interests and listened to the ‘shoulds’ (cautionary more than guilty) in my head more than the ‘coulds’ or ‘wants.’ I also didn’t take enough risk. But growth is a worthwhile journey, even in baby steps. 

Wrapped up in your passion is your authenticity so strike out and find your reason for being on this earth. Be receptive to clues about the work, purpose and mission you were called to do and do it. That is how you will find fulfillment and happiness. Be a good listener to the universe; let it and the stirrings inside your soul be your guide. Your path might not be straighter but it will be richer. 

Though process is everything, and the journey is the process, I would give anything to have taken my dream seriously, of wanting to be a writer. I just never saw myself doing that; it seemed impossible. So go after your wildest dreams. Listen to your gut as well as your head. Listen to yourself more than you listen to others. And internalize an image of yourself doing that thing you love. You can’t achieve what you don’t picture. 

Second, make short term decisions – the best decision you can make for that particular moment in time. We can’t know what we will be doing long term, especially those of us who thrive on new experiences and growth. I learned in the eleven weeks of my brief headhunting career that the world has two kinds of people: entrepreneurs and folks who like security – those who keep the same job for 40 years. Figure out whether you are a starter or a maintainer and make decisions accordingly. Don’t hold off buying a house because you might meet someone and get married soon. How do you know? Save money for your children’s education before you have them, and for your retirement. And just do the best you can in second-guessing your long term needs. You can be circumspect and still keep your options open. It costs more to be flexible but freedom and choice still exist.

I used to agonize about the ‘long term,’ especially in holding out for the perfect job instead of moving on when snags arose. But it cost me time. I wish I’d worried less about steady income and more about following my passion. It’s important to keep the income coming in, certainly, but for creative folks who are control freaks, like me, give yourself some rope in identifying and prioritizing your passions. 

Third, be open to people with different experiences, beliefs and talents than your own. Then expand that openness to inclusiveness and compassion. Live by adventure and giving, not by fear. Take the lead by creating initiatives and by doing the right thing. Read biographies of trailblazers that have made a difference. You need to know these things to not only lead a full life, and to be a good parent and mentor, but to also recognize true leadership qualities in those running for office. There are far too many “leaders” who are not committed to the public good. 

Fourth, understand that you are responsible for your own welfare. (And not just financially, but emotionally and physically as well.) Sidney Poitier said he learned this lesson at age 15 when he was on his own in New York. Heavy stuff for someone so young, but those who learn it early go further and give more to mankind proving once again that hands on learning can be our best counsel.   

Fifth, worry more about giving of yourself than about how much love and justice you receive. Engage in community and help others achieve their goals. Life is not a we/they proposition. Find a balance between self-reliance and asking for help. Feeling gratitude is huge in reducing frustration and blood pressure. Gratitude, and grace, are easier to find when in the company of patience and tenacity. And be grateful for the moment. Sometimes we have to experience hardship to realize these things. 

Wisdom is not found solely in the old, in those who have learned the hard way. It can also be found in the young, in those who are focused, and attuned and open to their surroundings. 

It’s never too late for any of us - graduates or supporters – to make new beginnings, to start over. I may have lost time by not hearing this speech but through experience I ended up where I wanted and needed to be. And I was especially lucky because, for a writer, variety and diversity are everything.

So commence a new project, a new attitude, a new friendship or a hike around the bend. It’s all ahead of us – always - and better because of what has come before.