雪莉•桑德伯格在伯克利的毕业典礼演讲

5月14日，Facebook 首席运营官，《向前一步》作者暨LeanIn.org机构创始人雪莉•桑德伯格（Sheryl Sandberg）在加州大学伯克利分校（UC Berkeley）2016级毕业典礼上发表演讲。在丈夫离世一年之际，她讲到了痛失爱人的痛苦以及应付挫折的韧性。丈夫去世后，她在“向前一步”方面有些新思考，近来也引发不少讨论。

伯克利官网可以观看演讲现场视频。

桑德伯格在加州大学伯克利分校2016级毕业演讲

谢谢玛丽。谢谢尊敬的老师们、自豪的父母、忠诚的朋友们，各位同仁。

祝贺所有人……尤其是伯克利2016级的毕业生们！

在伯克利求学是一件幸事，这里出过众多的诺贝尔奖得主、图灵奖获得者、宇航员、国会议员和奥运会金牌得主……而且都有女性！

伯克利从来走在时代前列。上世纪60年代，你们的前辈们倡导了言论自由运动。当时还有人说，如果男女都留长发要怎么分辨呢？现在早就有答案了：男生可以梳发髻。

其实在那之前伯克利就已兼容并包。伯克利1873年建校，第一届学生中有167名男生，222名女生。我的母校（哈佛大学——译者注）过了90年后才向女性颁发第一个学位。

曾经有一位女性来到这里求学，她的名字是罗莎琳德•努斯•罗姿。罗姿在纽约布鲁克林一处公寓里长大，靠擦地为生。高中时，她的父母让她辍学养家，幸好被一位老师及时劝服才能继续上学。1937年，她从伯克利毕业了，就坐在你们现在的位置。故事里的罗姿是我的祖母。直到现在，她的经历都是我强大的精神支柱。非常感谢伯克利当年慧眼识才。我还要特别恭喜成为家中第一代大学生的才俊，你们非常了不起！

今天值得庆祝，你们付出了很多努力才走到今天。

今天应该感谢。要感谢帮助你们一步步走到这里的人，感谢培养你，教导你，鼓励你，为你擦过眼泪的人。

至少也该感谢你在聚会上睡着后没用记号笔在你脸上乱画的小伙伴们。

今天应该沉思。因为今天意味着你生命中一个时代结束，一个新时代开始。

毕业典礼致词仿佛一场青春和智慧之间的交锋。台下青春洋溢，演讲台上睿智深刻。今天我本应跟你们分享一些人生经验。然后，你们把帽子扔到空中，和家人拍照留影，——不要忘了发布在Instagram上，最后大家都高高兴兴地回家。

但今天会有点不一样。或许你们还是会扔帽子，还是会拍很多照片。但我今天不想传授生活方面的经验，而是想讲讲从亲人离世后的领悟。

我以前从未公开谈论过这件事，其实很难说出口。我会尽量控制住情绪免得哭出来，弄脏这件漂亮的伯克利长袍不太好。

一年零13天前，我的丈夫戴夫去世了，很突然也很意外。我们去墨西哥参加朋友的50岁生日聚会。我睡了个午觉，戴夫去锻炼。接下来的事完全不可想象，我走进健身房看见他躺在地板上。后来我坐飞机回家将这个不幸的消息告诉了孩子们，最后亲眼看着他的棺材下葬。

他去世后好几个月里，我经常悲伤得无法自已，内心只觉得一片无尽的空虚四处蔓延，占据了五脏六腑，我无力思考，甚至感觉像要窒息。

戴夫的死深刻地改变了我。我终于明白了什么叫切肤之痛，也体会到痛失所爱的残酷。但我也明白了，当生活给你当头一棒，堕入悲伤之海，你能做的就是奋力游向水面，大口呼吸。我明白了，即便悲伤至空虚，或是面对巨大挑战，你仍然可以选择快乐和有意义的生活。

我跟你们分享亲人离世的感受，是希望能在你们走上社会时就能理解失去的痛苦，明白什么是希望、力量和心中永不熄灭的火苗。

每个从伯克利毕业的人肯定都经历过挫折。你想考A，结果只得到一个B。你申请到Facebook实习，结果只能去谷歌。你全心爱她，她却甩了你……

电视剧《权力的游戏》太不尊重原著，你就去看完了4320页的书……

生活中总会碰到很多难处理的事。有时错失机会：工作不合适，遭遇疾病或事故因而一切瞬间改变。有时尊严尽失：刻薄的偏见常常刺痛人心。有时缘尽人散：亲密关系一旦破碎就难重圆。有时不仅是生离，还要面临死别。

你们当中有些人已然历经刻骨的悲剧和苦难。去年大学奖章得主拉迪卡曾发表演讲，动情讲述了母亲突然去世的悲痛。

问题不是这些事情会不会发生，它们迟早都会来的。我想说的是发生之后怎么办，不管什么困难也不管具体什么时候遭遇，关键是怎样从困境中振作起来。其实只有经历了真正难捱的日子，被逼到崩溃边缘，你才能真正了解自己。要发掘真实的内心，不仅要看取得的成就，更要看逆境中如何奋起。

戴夫去世几个星期后，我和我的朋友菲尔谈论一场要父亲参加的亲子活动。戴夫不在了，我们只好找别人代替他。我哭着对他说：“但我只想要戴夫。”菲尔搂住我说：“A计划不行了，将就将就用B计划吧。”

我们总会碰到不尽如人意只能用B计划的时候，问题是：该怎么面对？

可能有点硅谷的职业病吧，我想说走出挫折也要科学对待。。心理学家马丁•塞利格曼（Martin Seligman）研究几十年后发现，从苦难中振作起来关键是做到三点——不要过分自责（personalization）、不要过分解读（ pervasiveness）以及不要以为伤痛永远不褪（permanence）。挺过生活中一次次打击，才能慢慢磨炼出韧性。

不要过分自责，就是说不要把悲伤的原因揽到自己身上。承担责任是应该的，但是痛苦时不要过分情绪化，要清楚一件事，并不是所有的坏事都是自己造成的。

戴夫去世后我就忍不住责怪自己。他在几秒钟内死于心脏病突发。我翻遍他的病历寻找线索，看看我要是做了什么，戴夫就不会死。明白这三条原则之后，我才慢慢接受不管怎样都救不了他这个事实。他的医生们没发现他有心脏病，我一个学经济的又怎么可能发现呢？

研究表明减少过分自责确实会让人强大起来。学生挂科之后老师与其后悔没尽力，不如努力改进教学方法帮助以后的学生取得好成绩。大学里游泳运动员成绩不理想，但是只要坚信可以游得更好，就能实现。只有走出过分自责的阴影，才能尽快恢复，甚至督促自己做得更好。

第二条不要过分解读，就是不要笃定坏事一定会影响生活中每个角落。有一首歌叫《一切都是极好的》，反过来就是《一切都是可怕的》。人们常常会以为悲伤大过天，根本无处可逃。

我跟儿童心理学家聊了之后，他让我尽快恢复孩子们的日常习惯。戴夫去世十天后，他们回到学校，我则回到工作岗位。我记得回去上班后头一次开会，精神都是恍惚的。我心里想的都是，“他们都在说什么，这些小事有什么好说的？”但后来我加入讨论，说着说着突然有那么一瞬，我好像忘记了死亡的悲痛。

那短暂的一瞬让我明白，生活中还有一些事没那么糟糕。毕竟，我跟孩子们都很健康，亲朋好友都那么关心支持我们，那段时间真的多亏他们撑着我才没垮。

失去伴侣往往会伴随巨大的经济打击，女性更是如此。许多单身母亲和父亲都在非常努力工作，没什么时间照看孩子。跟他们比我不用担心经济来源，能抽出时间照顾孩子，而且我有一份很好的工作。渐渐地，孩子们晚上能睡踏实了，哭闹少了，又愿意玩了。

第三条是不要以为伤痛永远不褪，就是相信痛苦会一直继续。戴夫去世后有几个月，无论我做什么都能感觉到令人窒息的悲伤，而且从来没有减轻的迹象。

我们总是觉得当前不好的感觉会无限延伸，而且不良情绪还会滋生副产品。我们感到焦虑，然后因为焦虑而焦虑；感到伤心，然后因为伤心而伤心。实际上，我们应该诚实面对自己的感觉，然后认清事实，其实所有感觉都不会永远持续。我的拉比（犹太教里的精神导师——译者注）说，时间会治愈一切，我也得学会“向前一步”。这是个好建议，不过我写书时说的“向前一步”其实不完全是这个意思。

其实还有第四个原则，就是美味的披萨，不用解释了吧……

言归正传，我真的很希望在你们这个年龄就知道这三条原则。许多时候，这些经验都很有用。

我大学毕业后做第一份工作时，老板发现我不会把数据录入莲花1-2-3（莲花公司的电子表格软件——译者注）。莲花1-2-3是个电子表格——你们的爸妈可能知道。他张大嘴说：“连这个都不会，真不知道你怎么进来公司的。” 然后就走出去了。晚上回家我觉得要被炒鱿鱼，然后觉得我什么事都做不好……但事实证明，我只是不会做电子表格而已。如果我当时就能明白不要过分解读，没必要一时难过就否定一切，当时就不会那么焦虑。

我跟男朋友提出分手时，要是明白痛苦并不会一直持续就好了。如果我当时知道再难受也会慢慢缓解，如果我能诚实面对自己，就会安慰很多，不过我都没做到。

男朋友和我分手时，我要是懂得不要过分自责就好了。有时真的不是我的错，错的是他们。说了你可能都不信，这家伙从来不洗澡。

我20多岁时第一次婚姻以离婚告终，这三条原则一条都没做到。当时的感觉是不管我做成过什么，最后还是一败涂地。

这三条原则针对的是我们遇到许多事情后常见的反应，不管是事业上，个人生活里，还是人际关系中。没准你现在就正在经历一些挫折。不过，如果你能清醒地发现陷阱，还有自救的机会。我们的身体里都有免疫系统，其实大脑里也有精神免疫系统，只是要用点办法才能启动。

有一天，我的心理学家朋友亚当•格兰特建议我换个角度思考，想象事情可能会更糟糕。刚一听让人挺难接受的。“更糟？”我说。“开玩笑吗？都这样了还能怎么糟。”我说。他回答道：“想象一下戴夫开车时突发心脏病，孩子们也都在车里。”天呐！那一刻，我突然很感激孩子们都没事，还健康地活着。感激之后悲伤也减轻了一点。

常怀感激之情是走出悲伤的关键。多花点时间列出值得感恩的事，就会更快乐也更健康。事实证明，多数数身边的好事，好事真的会越变越多。我今年的新年决心就是，每天晚上睡觉前写下三件当天高兴的事。做起来其实不难，但已经改变了我的生活。因为不管每天发生了什么，我睡觉的时候都在想着快乐的事。今晚开始试一下吧，今天肯定就有很多开心的事可以列。希望今晚你们临睡前都还记得。

上个月有一天，我想到还有11天戴夫逝世就满周年了，在一个朋友面前忍不住痛哭，当时我们还坐在浴室地板上。我说：“11天。一年前的今天，他的生命只剩下11天了，我们却不知道。”我们望着彼此都忍不住痛哭，然后问对方如果知道生命只剩下11天会如何生活。

你们毕业了，以后能像生命只剩下11天一样去生活吗？我的意思不是让你们抛下一切，每天都去聚会狂欢，当然今晚例外。我的意思是要明白每天都很珍贵。每一天都要珍惜不能浪费。

几年前，我母亲做手术换了髋关节。她年轻时走路总是会疼，髋关节粉碎性骨折之后每一步都疼痛难忍。现在做完手术好几年了，她还会经常感激走路不会疼，因为手术前根本无法想象。

如今我人生中最惨的一天过去已经一年了，我能确定两件事情是真实的。第一，我心中巨大的悲伤会永远挥之不去，就在这，我都能触摸到。还有就是以前我从来没想过我能天天哭，泪水能那么多。

但我也能确定我可以轻松走路，不用忍受疼痛。有生以来第一次，我感激每一次呼吸，感激自己的生命。过去我每五年过一次生日，朋友的生日只是偶尔庆祝。现在，每次我都不错过。过去我睡觉前总是在想当天有多少事没做好，其实经常搞砸很多。而现在我会集中精神想当天高兴的事。

说起来可能有点讽刺，我失去了丈夫，却因此体会到更深的感激——感谢朋友们的好意、感谢家人的爱，感谢孩子们的欢笑。我希望你们也能学会感激，不仅是在好日子里感激，比方说今天，在艰难的日子里更要感激，到那时感激之情对你们的帮助更大。

你们的人生道路上还有许多快乐的时刻。比如一直想去的旅行，与你真正喜欢的人的初吻，一份真正热爱的工作。还有击败斯坦福（加油金熊队！）美好的事情都会到来，尽情享受吧。

希望你们今后的每一天都充满快乐充实，希望你们的每一步都轻松自在没有痛苦，希望你们会意识到这一切值得感激。

面对挑战时，希望你们记住最重要的是学习和成长的能力。你们面对挫折的韧性并非固定不变。像肌肉一样，韧性是可以锻炼的，需要时就可以发挥作用。成长过程中你会慢慢了解自我，而且可能已经变成最好的自己。

2016级的毕业生们，在你离开伯克利时，记得锻炼韧性。

加强自身克服困难的韧性。悲剧或挫折来临时，你会知道自己有能力挺过去。相信我，你们可以的。常言道，我们比想象中脆弱，但也比想象中强大。

打造坚韧的团体。别人能做到，你也可以，因为从伯克利走出去的都是想把世界变得更美好的人。董事会或许不太完善，校园也可能不太安全，但永远不要放弃努力。大胆地说出意见，尤其是在伯克利这么难得的自由校园。办公室里我最喜欢的一幅海报上写着，“在Facebook任何事都不应该推给别人。”发现有什么事需要做，那就去做。

建立强大的社区，人类都是通过与旁人的联系找到自我认同的，在群体中人们才有生存的愿望，才能学会爱。要及时帮助家人朋友，一定要亲自去，不要在手机上发条信息加个心形表情就算交差了。

互相扶持，帮助他人走出困境，庆祝每一个欢乐的时刻。

整个世界就在你们面前。我真的很期待你们的成就！

恭喜毕业，加油金熊队！（财富中文网）

Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Facebook , author of Lean In, and founder of LeanIn.org, addressed the Class of 2016 at the University of California at Berkeley on Saturday, May 14th. She spoke on loss and resilience in the wake of her husband Dave Goldberg’s passing. The address comes sooner after recent comments concerning how her Lean In philosophy has evolved since her husband’s death.

If you’d like to watch live, you can see her commencement speech on the UC Berkeley website or in the live stream below.

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY 2016 Commencement Address

Thank you, Marie. And thank you esteemed members of the faculty, proud parents, devoted friends, squirming siblings.

Congratulations to all of you…and especially to the magnificent Berkeley graduating class of 2016!

It is a privilege to be here at Berkeley, which has produced so many Nobel Prize winners, Turing Award winners, astronauts, members of Congress, Olympic gold medalists…. and that’s just the women!

Berkeley has always been ahead of the times. In the 1960s, you led the Free Speech Movement. Back in those days, people used to say that with all the long hair, how do we even tell the boys from the girls? We now know the answer: manbuns.

Early on, Berkeley opened its doors to the entire population. When this campus opened in 1873, the class included 167 men and 222 women. It took my alma mater another ninety years to award a single degree to a single woman.

One of the women who came here in search of opportunity was Rosalind Nuss. Roz grew up scrubbing floors in the Brooklyn boardinghouse where she lived. She was pulled out of high school by her parents to help support their family. One of her teachers insisted that her parents put her back into school—and in 1937, she sat where you are sitting today and received a Berkeley degree. Roz was my grandmother. She was a huge inspiration to me and I’m so grateful that Berkeley recognized her potential. I want to take a moment to offer a special congratulations to the many here today who are the first generation in their families to graduate from college. What a remarkable achievement.

Today is a day of celebration. A day to celebrate all the hard work that got you to this moment.

Today is a day of thanks. A day to thank those who helped you get here—nurtured you, taught you, cheered you on, and dried your tears.

Or at least the ones who didn’t draw on you with a Sharpie when you fell asleep at a party.

Today is a day of reflection. Because today marks the end of one era of your life and the beginning of something new.

A commencement address is meant to be a dance between youth and wisdom. You have the youth. Someone comes in to be the voice of wisdom—that’s supposed to be me. I stand up here and tell you all the things I have learned in life, you throw your cap in the air, you let your family take a million photos –don’t forget to post them on Instagram —and everyone goes home happy.

Today will be a bit different. We will still do the caps and you still have to do the photos. But I am not here to tell you all the things I’ve learned in life. Today I will try to tell you what I learned in death.

I have never spoken publicly about this before. It’s hard. But I will do my very best not to blow my nose on this beautiful Berkeley robe.

One year and thirteen days ago, I lost my husband, Dave. His death was sudden and unexpected. We were at a friend’s fiftieth birthday party in Mexico. I took a nap. Dave went to work out. What followed was the unthinkable—walking into a gym to find him lying on the floor. Flying home to tell my children that their father was gone. Watching his casket being lowered into the ground.

For many months afterward, and at many times since, I was swallowed up in the deep fog of grief—what I think of as the void—an emptiness that fills your heart, your lungs, constricts your ability to think or even to breathe.

Dave’s death changed me in very profound ways. I learned about the depths of sadness and the brutality of loss. But I also learned that when life sucks you under, you can kick against the bottom, break the surface, and breathe again. I learned that in the face of the void—or in the face of any challenge—you can choose joy and meaning.

I’m sharing this with you in the hopes that today, as you take the next step in your life, you can learn the lessons that I only learned in death. Lessons about hope, strength, and the light within us that will not be extinguished.

Everyone who has made it through Cal has already experienced some disappointment. You wanted an A but you got a B. OK, let’s be honest—you got an A- but you’re still mad. You applied for an internship at Facebook, but you only got one from Google. She was the love of your life… but then she swiped left.

Game of Thrones the show has diverged way too much from the books—and you bothered to read all four thousand three hundred and fifty-two pages.

You will almost certainly face more and deeper adversity. There’s loss of opportunity: the job that doesn’t work out, the illness or accident that changes everything in an instant. There’s loss of dignity: the sharp sting of prejudice when it happens. There’s loss of love: the broken relationships that can’t be fixed. And sometimes there’s loss of life itself.

Some of you have already experienced the kind of tragedy and hardship that leave an indelible mark. Last year, Radhika, the winner of the University Medal, spoke so beautifully about the sudden loss of her mother.

The question is not if some of these things will happen to you. They will. Today I want to talk about what happens next. About the things you can do to overcome adversity, no matter what form it takes or when it hits you. The easy days ahead of you will be easy. It is the hard days—the times that challenge you to your very core—that will determine who you are. You will be defined not just by what you achieve, but by how you survive.

A few weeks after Dave died, I was talking to my friend Phil about a father-son activity that Dave was not here to do. We came up with a plan to fill in for Dave. I cried to him, “But I want Dave.” Phil put his arm around me and said, “Option A is not available. So let’s just kick the shit out of option B.”

We all at some point live some form of option B. The question is: What do we do then?

As a representative of Silicon Valley, I’m pleased to tell you there is data to learn from. After spending decades studying how people deal with setbacks, psychologist Martin Seligman found that there are three P’s—personalization, pervasiveness, and permanence—that are critical to how we bounce back from hardship. The seeds of resilience are planted in the way we process the negative events in our lives.

The first P is personalization—the belief that we are at fault. This is different from taking responsibility, which you should always do. This is the lesson that not everything that happens to us happens because of us.

When Dave died, I had a very common reaction, which was to blame myself. He died in seconds from a cardiac arrhythmia. I poured over his medical records asking what I could have—or should have—done. It wasn’t until I learned about the three P’s that I accepted that I could not have prevented his death. His doctors had not identified his coronary artery disease. I was an economics major; how could I have?

Studies show that getting past personalization can actually make you stronger. Teachers who knew they could do better after students failed adjusted their methods and saw future classes go on to excel. College swimmers who underperformed but believed they were capable of swimming faster did. Not taking failures personally allows us to recover—and even to thrive.

The second P is pervasiveness—the belief that an event will affect all areas of your life. You know that song “Everything is awesome?” This is the flip: “Everything is awful.” There’s no place to run or hide from the all-consuming sadness.

The child psychologists I spoke to encouraged me to get my kids back to their routine as soon as possible. So ten days after Dave died, they went back to school and I went back to work. I remember sitting in my first Facebook meeting in a deep, deep haze. All I could think was, “What is everyone talking about and how could this possibly matter?” But then I got drawn into the discussion and for a second—a brief split second—I forgot about death.

That brief second helped me see that there were other things in my life that were not awful. My children and I were healthy. My friends and family were so loving and they carried us—quite literally at times.

The loss of a partner often has severe negative financial consequences, especially for women. So many single mothers—and fathers—struggle to make ends meet or have jobs that don’t allow them the time they need to care for their children. I had financial security, the ability to take the time off I needed, and a job that I did not just believe in, but where it’s actually OK to spend all day on Facebook. Gradually, my children started sleeping through the night, crying less, playing more.

The third P is permanence—the belief that the sorrow will last forever. For months, no matter what I did, it felt like the crushing grief would always be there.

We often project our current feelings out indefinitely—and experience what I think of as the second derivative of those feelings. We feel anxious—and then we feel anxious that we’re anxious. We feel sad—and then we feel sad that we’re sad. Instead, we should accept our feelings—but recognize that they will not last forever. My rabbi told me that time would heal but for now I should “lean in to the suck.” It was good advice, but not really what I meant by “lean in.”

None of you need me to explain the fourth P…which is, of course, pizza from Cheese Board.

But I wish I had known about the three P’s when I was your age. There were so many times these lessons would have helped.

Day one of my first job out of college, my boss found out that I didn’t know how to enter data into Lotus 1-2-3. That’s a spreadsheet—ask your parents. His mouth dropped open and he said, ‘I can’t believe you got this job without knowing that”—and then walked out of the room. I went home convinced that I was going to be fired. I thought I was terrible at everything… but it turns out I was only terrible at spreadsheets. Understanding pervasiveness would have saved me a lot of anxiety that week.

I wish I had known about permanence when I broke up with boyfriends. It would’ve been a comfort to know that feeling was not going to last forever, and if I was being honest with myself… neither were any of those relationships.

And I wish I had understood personalization when boyfriends broke up with me. Sometimes it’s not you—it really is them. I mean, that dude never showered.

And all three P’s ganged up on me in my twenties after my first marriage ended in divorce. I thought at the time that no matter what I accomplished, I was a massive failure.

The three P’s are common emotional reactions to so many things that happen to us—in our careers, our personal lives, and our relationships. You’re probably feeling one of them right now about something in your life. But if you can recognize you are falling into these traps, you can catch yourself. Just as our bodies have a physiological immune system, our brains have a psychological immune system—and there are steps you can take to help kick it into gear.

One day my friend Adam Grant, a psychologist, suggested that I think about how much worse things could be. This was completely counterintuitive; it seemed like the way to recover was to try to find positive thoughts. “Worse?” I said. “Are you kidding me? How could things be worse?” His answer cut straight through me: “Dave could have had that same cardiac arrhythmia while he was driving your children.” Wow. The moment he said it, I was overwhelmingly grateful that the rest of my family was alive and healthy. That gratitude overtook some of the grief.

Finding gratitude and appreciation is key to resilience. People who take the time to list things they are grateful for are happier and healthier. It turns out that counting your blessings can actually increase your blessings. My New Year’s resolution this year is to write down three moments of joy before I go to bed each night. This simple practice has changed my life. Because no matter what happens each day, I go to sleep thinking of something cheerful. Try it. Start tonight when you have so many fun moments to list— although maybe do it before you hit Kip’s and can still remember what they are.

Last month, eleven days before the anniversary of Dave’s death, I broke down crying to a friend of mine. We were sitting—of all places—on a bathroom floor. I said: “Eleven days. One year ago, he had eleven days left. And we had no idea.” We looked at each other through tears, and asked how we would live if we knew we had eleven days left.

As you graduate, can you ask yourselves to live as if you had eleven days left? I don’t mean blow everything off and party all the time— although tonight is an exception. I mean live with the understanding of how precious every single day would be. How precious every day actually is.

A few years ago, my mom had to have her hip replaced. When she was younger, she always walked without pain. But as her hip disintegrated, each step became painful. Now, even years after her operation, she is grateful for every step she takes without pain—something that never would have occurred to her before.

As I stand here today, a year after the worst day of my life, two things are true. I have a huge reservoir of sadness that is with me always—right here where I can touch it. I never knew I could cry so often—or so much.

But I am also aware that I am walking without pain. For the first time, I am grateful for each breath in and out—grateful for the gift of life itself. I used to celebrate my every five years and friends’ birthdays sometimes. Now I celebrate always. I used to go to sleep worrying about all the things I messed up that day—and trust me that list was often quite long. Now I try really hard to focus on each day’s moments of joy.

It is the greatest irony of my life that losing my husban d helped me find deeper gratitude—gratitude for the kindness of my friends, the love of my family, the laughter of my children. My hope for you is that you can find that gratitude—not just on the good days, like today, but on the hard ones, when you will really need it.

There are so many moments of joy ahead of you. That trip you always wanted to take. A first kiss with someone youreally like. The day you get a job doing something you truly believe in. Beating Stanford. (Go Bears!) All of these things will happen to you. Enjoy each and every one.

I hope that you live your life—each precious day of it—with joy and meaning. I hope that you walk without pain—and that you are grateful for each step.

And when the challenges come, I hope you remember that anchored deep within you is the ability to learn and grow. You are not born with a fixed amount of resilience. Like a muscle, you can build it up, draw on it when you need it. In that process you will figure out who you really are—and you just might become the very best version of yourself.

Class of 2016, as you leave Berkeley, build resilience.

Build resilience in yourselves. When tragedy or disappointment strike, know that you have the ability to get through absolutely anything. I promise you do. As the saying goes, we are more vulnerable than we ever thought, but we are stronger than we ever imagined.

Build resilient organizations. If anyone can do it, you can, because Berkeley is filled with people who want to make the world a better place. Never stop working to do so—whether it’s a boardroom that is not representative or a campus that’s not safe. Speak up, especially at institutions like this one, which you hold so dear. My favorite poster at work reads, “Nothing at Facebook is someone else’s problem.” When you see something that’s broken, go fix it.

Build resilient communities. We find our humanity—our will to live and our ability to love—in our connections to one another. Be there for your family and friends. And I mean in person. Not just in a message with a heart emoji.

Lift each other up, help each other kick the shit out of option B—and celebrate each and every moment of joy.

You have the whole world in front of you. I can’t wait to see what you do with it.

Congratulations, and Go Bears!