While sitting in this very auditorium on my graduation day, trying to listen to the commencement speaker, I would never have imagined I would be giving the 1999 commencement Address. Thank you, Principia, for honoring me with this invitation.

The Class of 1999, as you know, is the last class to graduate from The Principia Upper School in the 20th century, the last Upper School class of the millennium. Let’s think about the millennium for a moment.

It is hard to read a magazine or to visit the Internet, isn’t it, without finding some reference to the new millennium. Many commentators have focused on the past and have compiled lists of the most illuminating literature of the last millennium, the most profound music of the last millennium, the most enduring art of the last millennium, and even, can you believe it, the most nutritious cereal of the last millennium.

Others have chosen to turn their attention not to the past, but to the future. Some have predicted total destruction at the turn of the millennium, `a la Armageddon. Still others are certain that salvation lies ahead. Then, there is the Y2K problem. Will our computer dependent society begin the year 2000 without crashing?

Furthermore, no one seems to agree as to when the next millennium actually begins. Is it midnight, December 31, 1999, or is it really midnight, New Year’s Eve of 2000? Considering the various opinions regarding the millennium, one might understandably view our journey into it with equal parts of longing, hope, and fear.

Mary Baker Eddy, an exceptional woman who discovered and founded Christian Science, made a far-reaching statement on how to view the millennium, a millennium that is absolute, not relative. She tells us: "The millennium is a state and stage of mental advancement, going on ever since time was" [First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, p. 239:27].

I love this definition – "a stage" – "a stage of mental advancement going on" – how long? ". . . ever since time was." Talk about awesome! It is a definition that removes all references to time and space. Hence, it defines not a new, not a next, not a past millennium. It refers to a millennium that focuses not on dire predictions or scientific guesswork but, rather, one that promotes an unlimited sense of progress. It is, then, a state of thought, forever going on – in other words, eternally.

Holding thought on Mrs. Eddy’s definition, you may want to ask what might be your journey into the millennium? Webster defines "journey" as "any course or passage from one stage or experience to another."

Let me pose some questions. How will you know the way to map this journey from one stage to the next? How will you know what decisions to make to move yourself forward – in other words, to advance yourself mentally? And how will your thought make a difference – a significant difference – in the millennium?

Today I’d like to share with you part of my journey, made up of some experiences I have had which helped me answer these same questions. My journey has been anything but direct, so bear with me. But I think you will find, at the end of the telling, there was a logic to my journey, my advancement, which may serve you in some way on your path.

Let me start with Paris

After graduating from Principia College, I had a summer job in London chaperoning American students throughout the city. It was a fun experience, and I had a terrific time. At the end of the summer, in the forefront of my thought was the idea that I might find a job in Paris teaching English (never mind that I didn’t speak a word of French at this point).

Learning of my intention, a friend offered a magazine with advertisements placed by European families who were seeking English speaking au pairs (we call them mother’s helpers here). Being an au pair, however, was not my idea of a job. I wanted to teach English – to adults. Tempted to throw the magazine in the trash but wanting to be thoughtful, I thanked my friend and packed the magazine in my luggage. All the while I thought, "No way am I going to spend my time taking care of someone’s children, let alone cook and clean for them. My babysitting days are behind me."

Arriving in Paris with the last of my summer earnings, the first thing I did after finding a tiny, inexpensive apartment, was to place an ad in the International Herald Tribune for a position as an English tutor. I waited, and waited, and waited. No response.

Two weeks went by during which I scoured the museums, hung out in the sidewalk cafes, climbed the Eiffel Tower, wrote poetry on the Left Bank, and chronicled everything I did in my journal. I had fallen in love with Paris, but I still had no job. No one had answered my ad, and my funds had run out. It looked as though my notion of living in Paris had failed.

While packing for the inevitable return home, I noticed inside my luggage that magazine – the one my friend had given me back in London a couple of weeks earlier. Suddenly a thought came: Maybe that magazine had traveled with me for a reason. Then another thought: Maybe it was time to pray.

What a novel solution – prayer! I’m embarrassed to admit my spiritual immaturity at this juncture, for prayer could have been my first impulse, but it wasn’t. In retrospect, I realize, however, that what had happened when I saw that magazine was very simple. In a moment, I had become willing to listen – to advance in another direction. And, as a result, the willfulness with which I had dismissed any solution but my own dissolved.

Prayerfully opening my thought to receive God’s directive, I found – right where it had always been – an answer of how to live in Paris. And it was the perfect answer – the perfect solution. In the back of the magazine was an advertisement with a return address in Paris. I answered the ad, and two days later I received a phone call from a Madam Balick asking me to meet with her the next day.

Sitting on the subway en route to the interview, I can recall still having a nagging resistance to this perfect answer. "Why am I doing this?" I thought. "I don’t want this job. I should just go home to America and forget about it." But this time I challenged immediately this way of thinking by drawing upon the spiritual intuition I had that this path was the right one.

As I climbed the stairs leading out of the Metro station, I found myself in a beautiful neighborhood, walking toward a gorgeous old, 19th-century apartment building. I was allowed entry by the concierge, and at the Balick’s door I was greeted by the butler. I waited a moment for Madam Balick to enter and to usher me into the living room, which overlooked a fabulous park. (Get the picture? It was a swell place!) After ten minutes, we both knew the job was meant for me.

I stayed with this lovely family for two years. My job was simply to speak English with the children, who were absolutely darling, by the way. Any cooking and cleaning I had presumed to be part of the au pair job were, instead, taken care of by the cook and the housekeeper. And, on top of it all, as if living in Paris weren’t enough, we traveled extensively during the children’s holidays – we safaried in Africa, we skied in Switzerland and Austria, we explored Morocco, and we cruised the Caribbean Islands. It was such a dream job that I couldn’t believe they paid me, too.

So why am I telling you this story about Paris? Wasn’t my experience there an example of the spiritual millennium going on hourly, even when I seemed to be resistant to it? The intuition that led me toward that interview was a glimmer, and that’s important, it was just a glimmer of spiritual insight that allowed me to view more clearly my prospects. Mrs. Eddy speaks of the progressive stages of spiritual sense as involving "intuition, hope, faith, understanding, fruition, reality." [Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, p. 298: 13—15]. My ability to intuit was evidence of this first stage of seeing spiritually and, thus, of a state of advancing mentally.

Truly, I was learning more of how to trust God’s guidance and, in so doing, I was enriched one hundredfold. How? By an experience that taught me to express more genuinely tenderness, loyalty, discipline, childlikeness, grace. Wasn’t my experience fruition in its highest sense? I think so. And, by the way, I learned to speak French in the bargain.

So today, allow me to suggest that you listen for these spiritual intuitions on your journey into the millennium and that you rid thought of all willful notions. I believe you will find that, as in my case, heeding God’s direction always – and I mean always – brings advancement.

Next Step – Law School

Of course, there might be times during which you may think you are heeding God’s guidance and yet others may advise you differently. That is the general attitude friends and family had when I announced my intention to go to law school. Everyone offered a human point of view. Even my mother questioned this new direction. When I called to tell her I was applying to law school, she said, "Honey, I always wanted a lawyer in the family but I’d hoped you would marry one." (So much for the feminist movement’s influence on my mother.)

Because of the overwhelmingly negative response to my decision to enroll in law school, you can imagine how tempting it was to think that my decision to pursue a law degree merited rethinking. After all, if that many people who knew me well were opposed to the idea, perhaps I was being misguided. Besides, I was having a wonderfully carefree time working as a hat check girl in a restaurant in New York City. (I just felt the collective shudder of every parent in the audience.)

So, uncertain about my decision to go to law school, I paused and waited for more spiritual guidance. Once again, I received it in the form of intuition which, I had learned, was certain to lead me to the next stage of my mental advancement. Intuitively, I knew it was right to think more seriously about my future, about a career.

Up to this point my life had been pleasantly productive, but I had as yet no real sense of purpose. Believing it was right to take the first step toward enrolling in law school, I filled out the application for the entrance exam. Before I knew it, I was a law student. There followed three grueling years of study, a term as the editor-in-chief of the law journal, the bar exam, and finally, a job as a corporate attorney at a prestigious Wall Street firm.

So my course had been set. I was on my way. For three years, I ate, drank and dreamt law. I was on the track to partnership, the goal for which all young associates strive. Financially secure, I moved from my tiny studio apartment into a spacious apartment overlooking Central Park. There was just one problem. My entire life (and I mean my entire life – my days, my nights, my weekends) had become consumed with the corporate world of mergers and acquisitions.

I assumed that much of the fast pace was due to living in New York City. And although I loved New York, and still do, I decided to move to a law firm in Kansas City, where I had family. I thought that perhaps in a new location, away from the twenty-four-hour-a-day demands of a Wall Street law practice, I might actually have a life outside of the office.

Well, at my new firm, the hours were better. I did have friends and a life outside of work. But three years later, something was still amiss. After all those years of school and practicing law, I made a startling discovery: I didn’t like being a lawyer!

I started to panic at the thought of continuing for the rest of my life in a career which I just didn’t find fulfilling. How had this happened? Had I been mistaken nine years earlier about attending law school? Had I been fooling myself into thinking this whole law school idea was a forward movement? Pondering these questions, I became even more unhappy and depressed.

I knew I had to quell the suggestions of doubt by recognizing that any forward spiritual movement and the progress to which it led could not somehow be reversed. I had to see that there are no U-turns on the journey Spiritward, and that there was a reason, as well as a blessing, for graduating from law school and moving to Kansas City.

As I thought about my journey thus far, I recognized that law school had changed my whole perception of myself; in fact, this educational challenge had given me a confidence in my abilities, something I had often struggled with before. In law school, I learned to express more fully this newfound confidence as well as intelligence, order, justice, perseverance – qualities that would stand me in good stead whatever my future entailed.

I was certain that any experience that taught me growth in this way could not have been a mistake. But why was I still struggling with the thought of practicing law? Determined not to dwell on this question, I concentrated instead on expressing these qualities even more fully every day.

No sooner had I gained a sense of gratitude for the abundance of these qualities in my life than I found myself presented with a completely different career option. Sitting in my law office one day, I read in the newspaper that a movie called Mr. & Mrs. Bridge was going to be filmed in Kansas City. It was to star Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.

Now deep within the recesses of my private self, I had always dreamt of working in the movies. The humanly logical place to have realized that dream would have been Hollywood, not Kansas City; and the humanly logical time to pursue it would have been when I was younger, willing to start at the bottom and to work my way up. But hadn’t I learned at an earlier stage that human logic had no bearing on my journey?

Feeling a bit daring, I spontaneously called the film’s production office. As it turned out, the producers were looking for an intern – you know, someone who works for free – to help out as a driver for the five month’s duration of the film’s shooting. Of course, there were several eager candidates. We all knew the movie’s sets would be off-limits to anyone not working on the film, and we were all determined to find a way to get behind the scenes.

I was chosen to fill the position. Interestingly enough, I learned later that it was my law degree that proved to be the deciding factor in my hiring because, when the producers found out I was a lawyer, they surmised I could run errands AND review contracts for them.

Because I had financial commitments and could not afford to quit my law job for a non-paying internship, the partners at my law firm amazingly agreed to give me, in essence, a paid leave of absence to work on the movie. In the minds of these partners, my job working on the film would provide an opportunity to boost the firm’s visibility (you can imagine the hometown press), and they saw this heightened exposure as a valuable marketing tool.

So, my job began. The first day I was sent to the Newmans’ rented house to pick up Joanne Woodward for a costume fitting. When I arrived, Joanne met me at the door and informed me that the fitting had been moved one half-hour later. She invited me inside to wait. There, sitting in the kitchen, was Paul Newman. Wow! (For the younger members of the audience, imagine entering a room in which Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman were sitting!)

The half-hour passed much too quickly. Joanne and I left for the costume fitting. Later that evening, I returned to the production office to learn that the Newmans had requested me as their personal driver for the duration of the shoot. What followed over the course of the next five months was the development of a natural friendship, not only with the Newmans, but also with the whole movie "family," with whom I enjoyed many weekend social activities.

I was happy. I liked this incredible world of filmmaking and I liked being a member of this terrific group of creative individuals. Also, I absorbed a tremendous amount about the logistics of filmmaking. The more I learned, the more I knew I had found a new vocation. It was at this point that I knew surrendering my profession as a lawyer was all right.

I learned two important lessons in this short period. First, there are definitely no U-turns on the journey Spiritward, and second, there is no prescribed route. I didn’t have to go to Hollywood for my introduction to the movie business. Hollywood came to me. The spiritual preparation I had undergone in striving to see my life in terms of qualities instead of a material career led me to a higher step on my individual journey. And, once again, here was fruition being evidenced within my own millennium.

Full of hope and ambition, I moved to Hollywood. Despite the good contacts I made while working on Mr. & Mrs. Bridge, I arrived there with no job and no prospect of a job. On steadier ground metaphysically, I really was never tempted to question the spiritual direction which had led me to give up my legal career; but as the weeks passed, another major challenge occurred.

Miles away from my family and friends, I began to feel completely and devastatingly alone. A deep depression ensued. Here was what appeared to be a serious roadblock on my journey – a challenge that was more difficult than any experience in Paris, any experience in law school, any experience in Kansas City. As a measure of my desperation, I called a Christian Science practitioner for prayerful help.

We began working together on a daily basis. That means that daily I would go to her office and cry while she declared that God’s plan for me included a rewarding sense of employment and a loving sense of home. As a result of my steadfast prayer, I was soon confident that I could expect progress, and I waited trustingly to see that it was not I, but God, who "owns each waiting hour" [Christian Science Hymnal, hymn 207, "Mother’s Evening Prayer", by Mary Baker Eddy].

At about this time, I received a phone call from a movie producer I had been introduced to when first arriving in Hollywood. He was calling to ask me to interview for a position with his company. Here was my answer. The interview went extremely well. I was confident I had the job. Thank you, God! Then the producer’s office called to say they had chosen someone with more experience. What?!! I was completely shocked. I was sure this job was my answer.

When I told the practitioner of my rejection, she laughed and said, "How terrific! God has something even more wonderful in store for you." That was not what I wanted to hear. I was fast nearing the last of my savings, and I still felt occasional loneliness.

Then I remembered a Bible verse: "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him" [I Cor., 2:9]. What a promise! To me this meant that any plan I might envision for my future could not possibly be as wonderful as the one God had prepared for me already. I stopped predicting the terms of my demonstration. "Not my will, but Thine" became my mantra.

Several days later, a new friend who was working on a movie called The River Wild telephoned. Her production company was filming the opening sequence of the film in Boston for two weeks and needed a production coordinator for that short period of time. She offered me the job, which I accepted.

At the end of the two weeks, the director of the film commented on the sense of calm I had brought to the otherwise chaotic production, and he asked if I would be interested in continuing to Montana to complete the picture. Where had that sense of calm come from? Wasn’t it the result of a state of being sure of God’s unfoldment of my right employment? Wasn’t it my progress going on and on and on? You bet it was!

The practitioner had been right. This job was so much more fulfilling than the one I thought should have been mine, the one to which I was sure my prayers had led me. With this new job, not only was I in the thick of things – on movie sets and involved in the creative aspect of filmmaking – but also The River Wild established me in the film community in such a way that I have never had to search for another job. To this day, though I operate on a freelance basis, I’ve always had work just when I needed it, and the work has always been challenging, stimulating, and rewarding.

And my longing for a higher sense of home and family was fulfilled as well. I met my husband on that movie that started in Boston. Talk about being led in the right direction! If I had gotten the first job I thought was so right, my husband and I probably would never have met. Here it was again: progressive stages of spiritual sense, ". . . intuition, hope, faith, understanding, fruition, reality."

Conclusion: Remember, I told you at the outset that my journey was anything but direct. Had I wanted to streamline my journey, which stage might I have skipped? Not one. Each stage of growth led to –indeed, was vital to my arrival at – the next stage.

The decision to stay in Paris was absolutely right. And the decision to go to law school was absolutely right. The move to Kansas City and the decision to leave my law practice for a film career were absolutely right. Each of these experiences represents the stages of my spiritual advancement and, together, make up my ongoing millennium.

Your millennium, like mine, assuredly is going on right now. As we approach the 21st century, your progress is being revealed continually. Your individuality, your leadership, your courage, all of which have been nurtured by a Principia education, are vital to our communities, our country, our world. Your thought will make a difference – a significant difference.

Go forward then from this, your graduation day, with the certainty that you can trust the spiritual intuitions which will lead you on your journey toward the fruition that is so rightfully yours.

Farewell and bon voyage, Class of 1999.