I'm not particularly qualified by profession or education to give advice and counsel.  It's widely known in a small circle that I make a mean tomato sauce, and I know many  inventive ways to hold a baby while nursing, although I haven't had the opportunity  to use any of them in years. I have a good eye for a nice swatch and a surprising  paint chip, and I have had a checkered but occasionally successful sideline in matchmaking.  
 But I've never earned a doctorate, or even a master's degree. I'm not an ethicist,  or a philosopher, or an expert in any particular field. Each time I give a commencement speech I feel like a bit of a fraud. Yogi Berra's advice seems as good as any: When  you come to a fork in the road, take it!
 I can't talk about the economy, or the  universe, or academe, as academicians like to call where they work when they're feeling  kind of grand. I'm a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is really all I  know. 
 Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work. That's what I have to  say. The second is only a part of the first. Don't ever forget what a friend once  wrote to Senator Paul Tsongas when the senator had decided not to run for reelection  because he'd been diagnosed with cancer: "No man ever said on his deathbed I wish  I had spent more time at the office."
 Don't ever forget the words on a postcard  that my father sent me last year: "If you win the rat race, you're still a rat."
 Or what John Lennon wrote before he was gunned down in the driveway of the Dakota:  "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
 That's the only  advice I can give. After all, when you look at the faces of a class of graduating  seniors, you realize that each student has only one thing that no one else has. When  you leave college, there are thousands of people out there with the same degree you  have; when you get a job, there will be thousands of people doing what you want to  do for a living. 
 But you are the only person alive who has sole custody of your  life. Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your  life on the bus, or in the car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind,  but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account, but your soul.								
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