“I was working at a financial firm in New York City with a bunch of very smart people and I had a brilliant boss I much admired. I went to my boss and told him I was going to start a company selling books on the internet. He took me a long walk in Central Park, listen carefully to me and finally said “that sounds like a really good idea, but it would be an even better idea for someone who didn’t already have a good job.”
That logic made some sense to me, and he convinced me to think about it for 48 hours, before making a final decision. Seen in that light, it really was a difficult choice. But ultimately I decided I had to give it a shot. I didn’t think I would regret trying and failing, and I suspected I would always be haunted by a decision to not try at all.
After much consideration, I took the less save path to follow my passion and I am proud of that choice. Tomorrow, in a very real sense. Your life, the life you author from scratch on your own begins. How will you use your gifts, what choices will you make? Will inertia be your guide, or will you follow your passions? Will you follow dogma, or will you be original? Will you choose a life of ease, or a life of service, an adventure? Will you wilt under criticism, or will you follow your convictions? Will you bluff it out when you are wrong, or you apologise? Will you guard your heart against rejection, or will you act when you fall in love? Will you play it safe, or will you be a little bit swashbuckling? When it’s tough, will you give up or will you be relentless? Will you be a cynic, or will you be a builder? Will you be clever, at the expense of others, or will you be kind?
A hazard of prediction. When you are 80 years old, and in a quiet moment of reflection narrating for only yourself the most personal version of your life story, the telling that will be most compact and meaningful will be the series of choices you have made. In the end, we are our choices. Build yourself a great story.
Thank you and good luck.
All credit goes to their respective owners.
