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"My husband, Jay, used to tell people that I was born on a sunny day. I thought it was the nicest compliment I ever received. Before you gag from the absolute adorableness of it all, to paraphrase that Pantene commercial, &amp;quot;don&amp;#039;t hate me because I&amp;#039;m happy.&amp;quot; Trust me, I&amp;#039;ve been to the other side. My mom, a practitioner of common sense who was raised in Omaha, has often said that no one leaves this life unscathed.  Indeed, dark clouds did come rolling in, and I&amp;#039;ve survived my share of window-rattling, life-shattering storms. I married a man who was fun-loving, brilliant, and oozing with integrity. (And he could dance! And I love to dance!) We had two healthy little girls, a marriage that had highs and lows but a rock-solid foundation, and our careers were going swimmingly.  That was B.C. Before cancer. That jarring transition was exactly how it felt. Just 15 months after Carrie was born, Jay was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer, and we were pulled into a swirling vortex of panic, depression, anxiety, and fear. We were desperate to find any reason to hope, but the situation, I can only now admit, was hopeless.  What followed were nine months of brutal treatments, futile searches for newly discovered therapies, and copious quantities of denial. The closest thing to a discussion of the possibility of death came when I told Jay that if something happened to him, I didn&amp;#039;t think I could come to the country house we had just bought. I couldn&amp;#039;t imagine going there, to his dream house, without him. &amp;quot;Well,&amp;quot; he said, cushioning the blow of his almost guaranteed absence, &amp;quot;I hope it will be full of happy memories.&amp;quot; He died on January 24, 1998. The life I had imagined and cherished was also buried on a freezing, windy January afternoon. When my sister Emily was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer just two years later, it seemed too much to bear. She was a rising political star in Virginia, and many expected her to be the first female governor of the state. But to me she was my smart, beautiful, and driven oldest sister, who set a high bar for all the Couric kids. She was also a wonderful wife and the mother of two fantastic sons. And just as Jay had, she fought like hell, with grace and guts.  I now realize that my mom is right: Very few of us get through this life unscathed. Scratch beneath a stranger&amp;#039;s surface and you&amp;#039;re likely to uncover professional setbacks, broken hearts, unspeakable loss, unfulfilled dreams, or worse. Everyone seems to keep going, but God knows navigating through it all isn&amp;#039;t easy. How do you keep going when you want to curl up into a ball and never leave your bedroom? How do you squeeze all the joy out of life while dealing with all the messy parts? How can you find a calling that fills you up, gives you a sense of purpose and your life meaning, and doesn&amp;#039;t leave you feeling full of regret and remorse? How do you shut out the voices (including, at times, your own) that tell you you&amp;#039;re not good enough and you shouldn&amp;#039;t even try? How can you recalculate your route when your personal GPS is on the fritz? I&amp;#039;ve always found comfort and guidance in hearing from people who have wrestled with the same questions and, through the simple act of living, have found their own versions of the right answers. But I&amp;#039;ve also found inspiration in an unlikely place: reading other people&amp;#039;s commencement addresses. Like eulogies celebrating a life well lived, they make you want to be a better version of yourself. I&amp;#039;m further struck by how inspired I am by the insights, despite the fact that I am 54 years old and well into my career. They aren&amp;#039;t just for those who are starting out; they&amp;#039;re for those who are starting over, or just taking stock \u2014 a reminder of what is important and how we can better live our lives every day. Here are some of my favorite pieces of wisdom.   &amp;quot;Remember Pinocchio? There is a Jiminy Cricket on your shoulder, giving the very best advice. It is you, your authentic self, the one you were in first grade, before you learned to massage your personality into a form that would suit others. Sometimes it&amp;#039;s hard to hear its message because all the external voices are so loud, so shrill, so adamant. Voices that loud are always meant to bully. Do not be bullied. Acts of bravery don&amp;#039;t always take place on battlefields. They can take place in your heart, when you have the courage to honor your character, your intellect, your inclinations, and, yes, your soul by listening to its clean, clear voice of direction instead of following the muddied messages of a timid world. So carry your courage in an easily accessible place, the way you do your cell phone or your wallet. You may still falter or fail, but you will always know that you pushed hard and aimed high.&amp;quot; --Anna Quindlen, author and journalist  &amp;quot;Someone once told me not to be afraid of being afraid, because, as she said, &amp;#039;Anxiety is a glimpse of your own daring.&amp;#039; Isn&amp;#039;t that great? It means that part of your agitation is just excitement about what you&amp;#039;re getting ready to accomplish. Don&amp;#039;t sell yourself short by being so afraid of failure that you don&amp;#039;t dare to make any mistakes. Make your mistakes and learn from them. And remember: No matter how many mistakes you make, your mother always loves you!&amp;quot;  \u2014 Maria Shriver, journalist, author, and former first lady of California  &amp;quot;As I traveled the world representing the United States as our nation&amp;#039;s 66th Secretary of State, I was often asked how I came to this post. I would reply, &amp;#039;I started as a failed piano major.&amp;#039; The point is that life is full of surprises and serendipity. Being open to unexpected turns in the road is an important part of success. If you try to plan every step, you may miss those wonderful twists and turns. Just find your next adventure \u2014 do it well, enjoy it \u2014 and then, not now, think about what comes next.&amp;quot;   \u2014 Condoleezza Rice, Stanford University professor and former Secretary of State   &amp;quot;From a very young age, my parents taught me the most important lesson of my whole life: They taught me how to listen. They taught me how to listen to everybody before I made up my own mind. When you listen, you learn. You absorb like a sponge \u2014 and your life becomes so much better than when you are just trying to be listened to all the time.&amp;quot;   \u2014 Steven Spielberg, film director and producer  &amp;quot;My secondary school was a parochial school run by Bernardine nuns in forbidding black robes. On my first visit to the school, I had an interview with the headmistress. She was a very old lady called Dame Mother Mary Mildred. (&amp;#039;Dame&amp;#039; because she had been honored for past achievements; I never knew what.) She had one eye that drooped and was somewhat frightening to the 10-year-old that I was. However, she was also very wise, and kind without being sentimental. She took one look at me and said, in such a way that I have never forgotten it, &amp;#039;Beware of fear.&amp;#039; It took me many years to understand the power and importance of that observation. Fear sometimes stops you from doing stupid things. But it can also stop you from doing creative or exciting or experimental things. It can cloud your judgment of others, and lead to all kinds of evil. The control and understanding of our personal fears is one of the most important undertakings of our lives.&amp;quot;   \u2014 Helen Mirren, actress  &amp;quot;I don&amp;#039;t like conflict. I&amp;#039;m a middle child and I&amp;#039;m Canadian. So to me rudeness is a foreign language. Disagreement, even loud, vehement arguing, is fine, even healthy. That&amp;#039;s not what I mean here. I&amp;#039;m talking about the adult tantrum. There are people who just need chaos. Perhaps it&amp;#039;s a way of trying to achieve power, or maybe it&amp;#039;s just emotional immaturity. Whatever the reason, these people get annoyed when they can&amp;#039;t create drama. It&amp;#039;s almost as if they want to pull others into that pit of bad behavior. So my advice is this: Don&amp;#039;t let them. The ruder people get, the nicer I become. It drives them nuts.&amp;quot;   \u2014 Nia Vardalos, writer and actress   &amp;quot;Find a way to say yes to things. Say yes to invitations to a new country, say yes to meet new friends, say yes to learn something new. Yes is how you get your first job, and your next job, and your spouse, and even your kids. Even if it&amp;#039;s a bit edgy, a bit out of your comfort zone, saying yes means that you will do something new, meet someone new, and make a difference. Yes lets you stand out in a crowd, be the optimist, see the glass full, be the one everyone comes to. Yes is what keeps us all young.&amp;quot;  \u2014 Eric Schmidt, executive chairman of Google  &amp;quot;As a little girl growing up in Wilmington, Delaware, whenever I found myself in a conundrum I looked to my father for advice. And always he offered the same encouragement: &amp;#039;Ask yourself, What&amp;#039;s the worst that could happen? Someone might tell you no, but there&amp;#039;s no harm in that.&amp;#039; Just take a chance. Ask the question.&amp;quot;   \u2014 Susan Stroman, Broadway director and choreographer  "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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