Acá algo para no perder la perspectiva de las cosas: Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young
A newspaper column by Mary Schmich, published by the Chicago Tribune on 01 June 1997.
Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.
I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt.
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 troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. 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.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
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.
Copyright © 2006, Chicago Tribune
y una trad muy precaria pa' kienes no cachan ingles:
Disfruta de la fuerza y belleza de tu juventud. O no me hagas caso: nunca entenderás la fuerza y belleza de tu juventud. hasta que se te haya marchitado. Pero, créeme, dentro de 20 años cuando mirando fotos te veas a ti mismo, verás como no puedes ver ahora cuántas posibilidades tenías ante ti y lo guapo que eras en realidad. No estás tan gordo como te imaginas.
No te preocupes por el futuro. O preocúpate, sabiendo que es tan efectivo como intentar resolver una ecuación de álgebra masticando chicle. Es probable que los problemas más serios que te surjan en la vida sean cosas que ni se te pasaron por la cabeza, de ésas que te sorprenden un martes cualquiera a las cuatro de la tarde.
Todos los días haz algo que te dé miedo.
Canta.
No juegues con los corazones de los demás. No aguantes que la gente juegue con el tuyo.
Cepíllate los dientes.
No pierdas el tiempo sintiendo celos. Unas veces vas ganando y otras perdiendo. La carrera es larga y al final sólo compites contra ti mismo.
Recuerda los elogios que recibas, olvida los insultos. Si lo consigues dime cómo.
Conserva las cartas de amor, tira los recibos viejos del banco.
Yérguete.
No te sientas culpable si no sabes qué hacer con tu vida. Las personas más interesantes que conozco no sabían qué hacer con su vida a los 22 años. Algunas de las personas más interesantes que conozco tampoco lo sabían a los 40.
Trata bien a tus rodillas, las echarás de menos cuando te fallen.
Quizás te cases, quizás no. Quizás tengas hijos, quizás no. Quizás te divorcies. Quizás bailes el rock en tus bodas de platino. Hagas lo que hagas no te congratules demasiado. Ni tampoco te censures. Siempre has optado por una cosa u otra como el resto del mundo.
Disfruta de tu cuerpo. Úsalo de todas las maneras que puedas. No le tengas miedo ni te preocupes de lo que piensen los demás; es el mejor instrumento que tendrás jamás.
Baila. Aunque tengas que hacerlo en el salón de tu casa.
Lee las instrucciones aunque no las sigas.
No leas revistas de belleza, sólo harán que te sientas feo.
Conoce a tus padres. Nunca sabes cuándo se irán para siempre. Sé bueno con tus hermanos. Son el mejor vínculo con tu pasado y seguramente los que seguirán contigo en el futuro.
Entiende que los amigos vienen y se van pero que hay unos escogidos que debes conservar. Esfuérzate en no desvincularte de algunos lugares y costumbres porque cuando más mayor te hagas más necesitarás a las personas que conociste cuando eras joven.
Vive en Nueva York alguna vez, pero vete antes de endurecerte.
Vive en el norte de California alguna vez, pero vete antes de ablandarte.
Viaja.
No te hagas demasiadas cosas en el pelo o cuando tengas 40 años parecerá el de alguien de 85.
Ten cuidado con los consejos que compras y ten paciencia con quienes te los vendan. Los consejos son una forma de nostalgia. Ofrecerlos es una manera de rescatar el pasado del vertedero, sanearlo, pintar las partes feas y reciclarlo, dándoles más valor del que tienen...
...pero hazme caso en lo del protector solar.
