We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”
Thornton Wilder

Last Friday, I flew to Seattle to attend my nephew’s graduation from the University of Washington. My nephew informs me that it’s overcast two-thirds of the time and rains half of the time in Seattle (it was a sunny day, although hazy, so unfortunately Mt. Rainier wasn’t visible from the campus). The large and cavernous meeting room in one of the beautiful brick buildings on campus where the graduation ceremonies were scheduled for the Dept. of Communications Bachelors, Masters, and Ph.D. candidates was overflowing, very hot and humid no sign of air conditioning anywhere. In fact, the rapid fanning of programs by most of the audience only served to add to the already unbearable and oppressive heat in the room. The candidates began filing in one-by-one to the periodic bursts of emotive exclamations by various and random family members assembled for the occasion. Once the candidates were all seated (which seemed to take forever; imagine how long it will take for each one of them to receive an individual diploma!), the Master of Ceremonies began droning on about this and that and I realized that the next three plus hours sitting in these extraordinarily uncomfortable folding chairs was going to be a bit challenging. So I closed my eyes and began to meditate on how grateful I was to be here with my sisters and their families to honor and recognize the grand achievement of my nephew who had graduated in only three years from this esteemed educational institution. And then remarkably, I heard the words of Thornton Wilder being spoken by a kind, warm-hearted gentleman who happened to be the keynote speaker:

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”

I can’t even remember the keynote speaker’s name but I most certainly will remember his message. He said that he wished that the graduates before him would move on to become productive members of society—but not too productive—because an over-emphasis on productivity can often lead to the elimination of serendipity. Serendipity is the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely. He said that many of the great discoveries in the sciences and the humanities were either directly or indirectly the result of serendipity. And it was his experience that an over-concentration on productivity often reduced one’s ability to create, discover, and/or to be open to what is possible in the present moment. I recognized immediately the wisdom of this gentleman as he attempted to pass on something of his life experience to the all-too-eager to graduate class of 2009. I am grateful for the gift of the keynote speaker at my nephew’s graduation and I pass it on to you for what it’s worth, for I know that each one of us has the potential to experience (again and again) the serendipity of those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

Matthew A. Burke