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 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
blindsides 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.
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.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you wanna 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 own 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.
