I believe that every human being has a talent—something that he can do better than anyone else. And I believe that the distinction1 between so-called "creative" talents and ordinary run-of-the-mill talents is an unnecessary and man-made distinction. I have known exterminators， typists， waitresses and machinists whose creative joy and self-fulfillment in their work could not be surpassed by Shakespeare' s or Einstein' s.
When I was in my teens， I read a quotation2 from Thomas Carlyle： "Blessed is he who has found his work. Let him ask no other blessedness." At the time I thought that was a pretty grim and dreary remark， but I know now that Mr. Carlyle was right. When you find the thing that you can do better than anything else in the world， then all the wonderful by-products fall in line financial security， happy personal relationships， peace of mind. I believe that until you find it your search for the by-products will be in vain.
I also believe that in the process of searching， no experience is ever wasted， unless we allow ourselves to run out of hope. In my own case I had thirty-four different jobs before I found the right one. Many of these jobs were heartbreakingly3 difficult. A few of them involved working with unscrupulous and horribly unpleasant people. Yet， in looking back， I can see that the most unpleasant of these jobs， in many cases， give me the biggest dividends the most valuable preparation for my proper life work.
And I have seen this happen in the destinies of hundreds of people. Periods which they thought were hopeless， dark and of no possible practical value have turned out to be the most priceless experiences they ever had. One of my friends is a famous package designer for American industry. She was just given a promotion for which she competed with six well-qualified designers. Her past， like all of ours， had its good times and its bad times. One of the worst of the bad times was a period when she lost her husband and was left with two small children to support. She took a clerking job in a grocery store because her apartment was on the floor above it and between customers she could run up and keep an eye on the babies. It was a two-year period of great despair， during which she was constantly on the verge of suicide4. Yet the other day when she told me of her promotion to the top package design post， she exclaimed in astonishment， "And do you know that the single factor which swung it in my favor was that I alone had over-the-counter experience with the customers who buy our packaged foods！"