'You've got to find what you love,' Jobs says
Stanford Report, June 14,
2005
This
is a prepared text of the Commencement address[1]
delivered by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios,
on June 12, 2005.
I
am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest
universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this
is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell
you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The
first story is about connecting the dots.
I
dropped out[2]
of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in[3]
for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It
started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed[4]
college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt
very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was
all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that
when I popped out[5]
they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents,
who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking:
"We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said:
"Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had
never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high
school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented[6] a
few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And
17 years later I did go to college. But I naively[7]
chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my
working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition[8].
After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted
to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out.
And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire
life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was
pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I
ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes[9]
that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked
interesting.
It
wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in
friends' rooms, I returned Coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits[10]
to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night
to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of
what I stumbled[11]
into by following my curiosity and intuition[12]
turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed
College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy[13]
instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster[14],
every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed[15].
Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided
to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif[16]
and sans serif[17]
typefaces[18],
about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about
what makes great typography[19]
great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle[20]
in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None
of this had even a hope of any practical[21]
application[22]
in my life. But 10 years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh
computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was
the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that
single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or
proportionally[23]
spaced fonts[24].
And since Windows just copied the Mac, it's likely that no personal computer
would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on
this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful
typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots
looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking
backward 10 years later.
Again,
you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking
backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your
future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma[25],
whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the
difference in my life.
My
second story is about love and loss.
I
was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple
in my parents' garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had
grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over
4,000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a
year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get
fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I
thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or
so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge[26]
and eventually we had a falling out[27].
When we did, our Board of Directors[28]
sided with him. So at 30 I was out[29].
And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was
gone, and it was devastating[30].
I
really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the
previous generation of entrepreneurs[31]
down — that I had dropped the baton[32]
as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried
to apologize for screwing up[33]
so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away
from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what
I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been
rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I
didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the
best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness[34]
of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again,
less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative
periods of my life.
During
the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named
Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar
went on to create the world's first computer animated feature film, Toy Story,
and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable
turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we
developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance[35].
And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm
pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple.
It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes
life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith[36]. I'm
convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did.
You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is
for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the
only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the
only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet,
keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when
you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better
as the years roll on[37].
So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle[38].
My
third story is about death.
When
I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day
as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made
an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in
the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of
my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the
answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to
change something.
Remembering
that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered[39]
to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all
external[40]
expectations, all pride[41],
all fear of embarrassment or failure — these things just fall away in the face
of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going
to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap[42]
of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no
reason not to follow your heart.
About
a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan[43]
at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas[44].
I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost
certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live
no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my
affairs[45]
in order, which is doctor's code[46]
for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought
you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to
make sure everything is buttoned up[47]
so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your
goodbyes.
I
lived with that diagnosis[48]
all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy[49],
where they stuck an endoscope[50]
down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines[51],
put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated[52],
but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a
microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare
form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and
I'm fine now.
This
was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get
for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with
a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual[53]
concept:
No
one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get
there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped
it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best
invention of Life. It is Life's change agent[54].
It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but
someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared
away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your
time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped[55]
by dogma[56]
— which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the
noise of others' opinions drown out[57]
your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart
and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.
Everything else is secondary.
When
I was young, there was an amazing publication[58]
called The Whole Earth Catalog[59],
which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named
Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with
his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960s, before personal computers and
desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid
cameras[60].
It was sort of like Google in paperback[61]
form, 35 years before Google came along: It was idealistic, and overflowing[62]
with neat tools and great notions[63].
Stewart
and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when
it had run its course[64],
they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the
back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country
road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking[65]
on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry.
Stay Foolish.[66]"
It was their farewell[67]
message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished
that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew[68],
I wish that for you.
Stay
Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank
you all very much.
http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html
Structure of the Lead：
WHO- Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios
WHEN- June 12, 2005
WHAT- a speech
WHY- to encourage students who were going to graduate
WHERE- Stanford
HOW- inspring
Keywords
[1] Commencement address : 畢業典禮致詞
[2] Drop out : 輟學
[3] Drop in : 復學
[4] Unwed : 未婚的
[5] Pop out : 跳出來; 冒出來, 此指出生
[6] Relent : 變寬厚; (態度)軟化
[7] Naively : 天真地
[8] Tuition : 學費
[9] Required class : 必修課程
[10] Deposit (n.) : 存款; 儲蓄
[11] Stumble : 失足; 絆倒; 失策
[12] Intuition : 直覺
[13] Calligraphy : 字型學; 書法
[14] Poster : 海報; 標語
[15] Hand calligraphed : 手寫體
[16] Serif : 襯線
[17] Sans serif : 無襯線
[18] Typeface : 字體
[19] Typography : 活版印刷術
[20] Subtle : 奧妙的
[21] Practical : 實際的
[22] Application : 應用
[23] Proportionally : 相稱地; 成比例地
[24] Font : 字體
[25] Karma : 命運; 因果報應
[26] Diverge : 分歧
[27] Fall out : 爭吵; 撕破臉
[28] Board of Directors : 董事會
[29] Out : 此指失業
[30] Devastating : 毀滅性的; 破壞性極大的
[31] Entrepreneur : 創業者; 企業家
[32] Baton : 接力棒; 指揮棒; 棒子
[33] Screw up : 搞砸
[34] Heaviness : 重擔; 累贅
[35] Renaissance: 復興
[36] Faith : 信心
[37] Roll on : 繼續前進
[38] Settle : 安頓; 沉澱; 安居
[39] Encounter : 遇見
[40] External : 外界的
[41] Pride : 虛榮
[42] Trap : 陷阱; 圈套
[43] Scan : 掃描
[44] Pancreas : 胰臟
[45] Affair : 事務
[46] Code : 代碼
[47] Button up : 扣好; 做結論; 交代完畢
[48] Diagnosis : 診斷
[49] Biopsy : 組織(切片)檢查
[50] Endoscope : 內視鏡
[51] Intestine : 腸
[52] Be sedated : 被打鎮靜劑, sedate : 穩重; 鎮定
[53] Intellectual : 知識的; 學術的
[54] Agent : 媒介
[55] Trap : 困住; 陷入(困境)
[56] Dogma : 教條
[57] Drown out : 淹沒; 掩蓋
[58] Publication : 刊物
[59] Catalog : 目錄
[60] Polaroid camera : 拍立得
[61] Paperback : 平裝(書)
[62] Overflow : 滿溢
[63] Notion : 見解; 想法
[64] Course : 期
[65] Hitchhike : 搭便車
[66] Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. 求知若飢，虛心若愚。
[67] Farewell : 告別
[68] Anew : 重新地
