Lauren Graham - In Conclusion, Don’t Worry About It

C ONGRATULATIONS! Youre giving the graduation speech at Langley High School this year, my dad told me as we bounced down a windy Virginia road in his open-air Jeep. Windy road plus bouncy car plus hair whipping in my face had me jangled, and I wasnt sure I was hearing him properly.

Im doing thewhat? I asked him. Did I apply for this? I thought to myself. Is it possible I forgot Id said yes to giving the commencement speech at my alma mater? The way my dad put it, it seemed like the happy outcome of some contest, but it was one I didnt remember entering.

Remember Dick, who I play tennis with?

No?

You know. Dick? From tennis.

Ino, I dont, Dad.

Well, his granddaughter Kaitlin is graduating from Langley.

Uh-huh.

And youre giving the speech! Isnt that great? he said, as if it was all settled. And while I was sure there was a chink in his logic somewhereperhaps due to the potholes that kept jogging me out of my seatI couldnt find it, and by the time we arrived home, my hair a tangled mess, I had somehow become a commencement speaker.

As an actor, Id performed in front of an audience many times before, but Id never exactly spoken to one. So I asked for advice.

Open with a joke, my dadan experienced public speaker in his capacity as president of a company for over twenty yearstold me. Dont talk as fast as you normally do, friends advised. Have you seen Will Ferrells commencement address? Now thats a good speech, said literally every other person I asked. Hed given a speech at USC that year that was, indeed, hilarious. He sang. It went viral. WHATEVER, WILL.

After I gave the speech to the Langley graduates, I was asked to publish it. Are you going to make it funnier? Like that Will Ferrell speech? people asked me when I told them the news.

So, this book started with the Langley speech, but grew considerably from there. I kept thinking of all the worrying Id done when confronted with milestone moments in life, how generally unhelpful worry is, and how much admiration I have for the young people Ive gotten to meet over the years. We desperately need your talent, your integrity, and your hope. If this book helps you worry even slightly less as you navigate your future, Ill be thrilled.

Recently, I was asked to speak to the students at University College Dublin. They probably heard about my Langley speech, I congratulated myself. Im probably going to become a very big-deal world-renowned public speaker of some sort. I hope I have enough time to work on my

Then I did some more research.

Their speaker from last year? WILL FERRELL. He wore their national football uniform. He painted himself green from head to toe. Whatever. IM GONNA GET YOU, WILL.

Honestly? I cant wait to hear how funny he was from folks with that charming Irish lilt.

I graduated from high school in 1984. Back then, a movie ticket cost about three dollars, the Apple Macintosh computer had just come out, and Ghostbusters (with dudes) was the top-grossing movie. No one I knew had a cellphone, our high school didnt have a marching band, and that year, our class didnt have a graduation speaker either in another three decades a robot will dispense wisdom via satellite from space, or from one of those islands Richard Branson owns, and youll watch it on the drone projector in your safe house! (Apologies if my sophisticated comprehension of the future of technology goes over your head.)

I dont remember much about my graduation ceremony. It was just too hard for me to focus. I was wearing a scratchy white dress. It was hot outside, and even stuffier under the polyester robes. We barely had any good hair products back then and my hair was always poofy. I was wearing heels Id never worn before and theyd given me a blister. We were seated alphabetically, and I didnt know the students who sat to my left or right. My close friends were scattered somewhere across the auditorium, but I couldnt see any of them. Everything felt off, and strange, and muggy.

Even having my diploma in hand felt sort of like an empty victory. Well, not sort of, since due to library fines my diploma was being held, and the pleather envelope I received after I shook hands with the principal was actually empty. Inside was just a blank piece of paper. No name, no date, no year. My diploma would be held hostage until I returned my long overdue copy of Robinson Crusoe. I was somehow both overwhelmed and scattered, far from focused on my future.

On that graduation day, I could see about as clearly as Will Cindys older brother buy us enough wine coolers for the party tonight? You know, deep, intellectual stuff. So, if youre worried thatat the end of high school, or college, or even a long relationshipyoure supposed to know more about what comes next than whatever the Bartles & Jaymes count at the next party is, dont worry about it! Thresholds/passages/finales of any kind tend to have a forced, fake-cheery, New Years Evetype pressure about them. An ISNT THIS AMAZING, IVE GOT IT ALL FIGURED OUT-ness that isnt true for everyone. And like on New Years Eve, some people have a detailed plan involving light-up hats and elaborate outfits and going to Times Square, while some just want to stay home and hide under a blanket. Neither method of handling a supposed big life moment guarantees what the future will bring. Both are valid choices.

Except going to Times Square on New Years. I mean thats just nuts.