Productivity Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7

Make Your Bed

Small things that can change your life ... and maybe the world
by Admiral William H. McRaven
Improve yours: Risk, goals, friends, bravery, discipline, willpower,

self-esteem

Foreword: Make your bed first if you want to change the world.

Admiral William H. McRaven delivered the

commencement address to the University of Texas at

Austin's graduating class on May 17, 2014. Using the

university's slogan, "What starts here changes the

world," he shared the principles he learned during Navy

Seal training that helped him overcome challenges not

only during his training and long Naval career but also

throughout his life; and he explained how anyone can

use these basic lessons to change themselves—and the

world—for the better.

This timeless book, told with great humility and hope,

offers basic wisdom, practical guidance, and words of

encouragement that will motivate readers to do more,

even in life's darkest circumstances.

Main points: 1. Make your bed first if you want to alter your life and
maybe the planet.

2. It takes a good team of individuals to bring you to

where you want to go in life.

3. Don't blame yourself for your misfortune. Stand tall,

gaze forward, and keep driving.

4. Allow failure to instruct and strengthen you; it will

prepare you to deal with life's most difficult situations.

5. Those who are afraid of failure, adversity, or disgrace

will never reach their full potential.

6. When you're stuck in the mud, pull up others around

you and offer them hope that tomorrow will be better.
1. Make your bed first if you want to alter your
life and maybe the planet.
The author, Mac, was a Navy SEAL who shared a room with three other
students, which had four mattresses, a closet to hang your uniforms, and
nothing else. Making the bed was the first chore of the day at the barracks,
followed by uniform inspections, lengthy swims, longer runs, obstacle
courses, and continual harassment from the SEAL instructors.

As the teacher entered the room, the class leader, Lieutenant Junior Grade
Dan'l Steward, said, "Attention!" The teacher was harsh and emotionless,
and he began by scrutinizing the starch in Mac's green uniform to verify
the eight-sided "cover" was crisp and properly blocked.

Moving his gaze from top to bottom, he scrutinized every detail of his
costume.

Were the wrinkles on the blouse and pants even? Was the brass on the belt
gleaming like a mirror? Were his boots polished well enough that he could
see his fingers reflected in them? He proceeded on to check his bed,
satisfied that he fulfilled the strict standards demanded of a SEAL trainee.

Start each day with a task completed. Find someone to help you

through life. Respect everyone. Know that life is not fair and that you

will fail often.” ~ William H. McRaven

The bed was as basic as the room itself, consisting of a steel frame and a
single mattress. The mattress was covered with a bottom sheet, which was
then covered by a top sheet. Warmth against the cold San Diego evenings
was given by a gray wool blanket pulled securely under the mattress. At the
foot of the bed, a second blanket was beautifully folded into a rectangle.
A single pillow, created by the Lighthouse for the Blind, was situated at the

top of the bed and intersected with the blanket at a ninety-degree angle at

the bottom. This was the norm. Any departure from this strict criteria would

result in the author "hitting the waves" and then rolling around on the

beach until he was plastered head to toe in wet sand — a condition known

as a "sugar cookie."

The teacher cast a tired glance toward his bed from the corner of his eyes.

Bending down, he examined the hospital corners before surveying the

blanket and pillow to verify they were properly positioned. Then, reaching

into his pocket, he picked out a quarter and flipped it many times in the air

to ensure he knew the bed's last test was approaching. With one more spin,

the quarter sailed high into the air and landed softly on the mattress. It

sprang several inches off the bed, high enough for the teacher to grasp it in

his palm.

Swinging around to face him, the teacher nodded and looked him in the

eyes. He never said anything. Making his bed correctly would not be an

occasion for praise. It was something he was supposed to do. It was the

first duty of the day, so doing it properly was critical. It displayed his

self-control. It demonstrated his attention to detail, and at the end of the

day, it would serve as a reminder that he had accomplished something

worthwhile, something to be proud of, no matter how minor the job.

Doing the first task of the day correctly is critical; it is something to be

proud of, no matter how minor the activity.

Mac was recovering at home after a major parachute accident when the

9/11 terrorist attack on the United States. He wanted to be with his fellow

fighters on the battlefield so desperately that when he was finally able to

push himself off the bed without assistance, the first thing he did was pull
the covers up tight, fix the pillow, and make sure the hospital bed looked
nice to all those who came in.

He was relocated to the White House four weeks after 9/11, where he
served two years in the newly founded Office of Combating Terrorism.

The expedition was followed by a mission in Iraq at a temporary

headquarters on Baghdad's runway. They slept on Army cots for the first
few months. Nonetheless, he would get up every morning, wrap up his
sleeping blanket, position the pillow at the head of the cot, and prepare for
the day.

During the years following Saddam Hussein's capture, Mac worked with
some of the best men and women our country has ever produced, from
generals to privates, admirals to sailor recruits, ambassadors to clerk
typists.

They all realized that life is difficult and that there is often nothing you can
do to influence the result of your day. Soldiers die in war, families grieve,
and your days are long and filled with tense times. You look for something
to offer you consolation, something to push you to start your day,
something to give you a sense of pride in an often nasty environment. But
it's not only about warfare. A similar feeling of the organization is required
in daily living. Nothing can replace the power and comfort of one's religion,
but the simple act of making your bed may sometimes give you the boost
you need to start your day and the pleasure you need to finish it well. Make
your bed first if you want to alter your life and maybe the planet!

Did you know that? Saddam Hussein was apprehended by US soldiers in

December 2003. He was imprisoned for some time and was confined in a
tiny room. He, too, slept on an Army cot, but this time he had sheets and a
blanket. At the foot of his cot, his sheets were usually wrinkled.
2. It takes a good team of individuals to bring
you to where you want to go in life.

Early in his SEAL training, the author learned the importance of

collaboration and the necessity to rely on others to assist him do
challenging tasks. A ten-foot rubber raft was used to impart this essential
skill to trainees who were "tadpoles" wanting to become Navy frogmen.

The students were obliged to carry the raft on their heads and sprint from
the barracks across the highway to the chow hall during the first round of
training. As they went up and down the Coronado dunes, the rafts were
carried in a low-slung position. Seven guys paddled the boat from north to
south down the shore and through the pounding waves, all working
together to deliver the rubber boat to its objective.

This, however, was not the most crucial aspect of the training. Occasionally,
one of the boat crew members became ill or injured and was unable to give
their best. When Mac had the sickness and was unable to give his all, the
other members stepped forward to fill the void. They paddled more
forcefully. They delved even deeper. They handed him their food to give him
an extra boost of energy.

When the opportunity arose later in training, he returned the favor. The little
rubber boat taught the crew that no one could make it through training on
his alone. No SEAL could survive war alone, and as a result, you needed
people in your life to assist you to get through the toughest times.

You cannot paddle the boat alone. Find someone to share your life

with. Make as many friends as possible, and never forget that your

success depends on others.” ~ William H. McRaven

Never was the need for assistance more clear than when Mac took
command of all the SEALs on the West Coast twenty-five years later. He
was in a horrible accident in which he jumped from a C-130 Hercules
airplane at a height of twelve thousand feet. During the fall, his leg was held
in place by two sets of risers, which are the long nylon straps that connect
the main parachute to the harness on his back. One riser had looped
around one leg, while the other had looped around the other. The primary
parachute had been completely removed from the bag but had been
entangled someplace on his body.

As he strained to release himself from the entanglement. The two risers,

one wrapped around each leg, abruptly and forcefully separated, carrying
his legs with them. As the power of the opening shredded his lower body,
his pelvis split quickly. The thousand little muscles that link the pelvis to the
rest of the body were ripped from their hinges. His jaw dropped wide, and
he screamed loud enough to be heard in Mexico.

Until that time, the author had always felt invincible, as if his natural
aptitude could get him out of any dangerous scenario. And he had been
correct up to that moment.

No SEAL could survive battle alone, and as a result, you need people in
your life to assist you to get through the toughest moments.

Throughout his career, he was involved in numerous life-threatening

incidents, including mid-air collisions with another parachute, an
uncontrolled descent in a minisub, nearly falling hundreds of feet off an oil
rig, becoming trapped beneath a sinking boat, demolition that exploded
prematurely, and countless others.

Each time, he made the correct option, and he was physically healthy
enough to tackle the challenge before me. However, not this time.

All he felt now, laying in bed, was self-pity. That, however, would not last
long.

Georgeann, his wife, had been assigned nursing responsibilities. She

cleaned his wounds, administered his regular injections, and changed his
bedpan. She would not allow him to feel sorry for himself.

His friends dropped by the house, called frequently, and assisted in every
way they could. Admiral Eric Olson, his commander, managed to get past
the protocol that required the Navy to undergo a medical examination of
his eligibility to continue serving as a SEAL. This assistance saved his
career.

Nobody is immune to life's devastating situations.

It takes a team of excellent individuals to bring you to your destination in

life, just like the little rubber boat in basic SEAL training. You cannot row the
boat by yourself. Find someone with whom you can share your life. Make as
many friends as you can, and never forget that your success is dependent
on the success of others.

3. Don't blame yourself for your misfortune.

Stand tall, gaze forward, and keep driving.

If you want to make a difference in the world, stop being a sugar cookie and
keep going ahead. Nothing was more unpleasant than becoming a sugar
cookie during the author's SEAL training. There were many things that were
more unpleasant and tiresome, but being a sugar cookie tested your
patience and tenacity. Not just because you spent the remainder of the day
with sand down your neck, under your arms, and between your legs, but

also because becoming a sugar cookie was utterly random.

If you want to change the world, stop being a sugar cookie and keep

moving forward.

Stop being a sugar cookie and keep going ahead if you want to change the

world.

This was difficult for many of the SEAL trainees to accept. Those that

aspired to be the greatest anticipated to be recognized for their

outstanding achievements. Sometimes they were, and sometimes they

were not. Sometimes, despite their efforts, all they received was damp and

sandy.

Mac went to his teacher, cried "hooyah" again, and came to attention,

satisfied that he was adequately covered in sand. Lieutenant Phillip L.

Martin, known to his friends as Moki, was looking over to check whether he

fulfilled his level of perfection in sugar cookies. He was one of the team's

best skydivers and being a native Hawaiian, he was so adept in the water

that few, if any, could equal him.

“Mr. Mac, do you have any idea why you are a sugar cookie this morning?”

Martin stated in a calm but inquisitive tone. “No, Instructor Martin,”

he dutifully responded. “Because, Mr. Mac, life isn’t fair, and the sooner you

learn that, the better off you will be.”

Moki was a tremendous athlete in addition to being a fantastic SEAL

operator. He was at the forefront of the triathlon craze in the early 1980s. In

the wide ocean, he performed a stunning freestyle stroke. His calves and

thighs were powerful, and he moved well on lengthy runs, but his true edge

was the bicycle. He and the bike were meant to be.

Moki went out on a training bike along the Silver Strand early one Saturday

morning. He never spotted the approaching bicycle because he kept his

head down and pedaled quickly. The two motorcycles crashed head-on at

around 25 miles per hour. The contact caused the motorcycles to collapse,

pushing the riders together and leaving both men facedown on the asphalt

roadway. The first rider collapsed, brushed himself off, and climbed to his

feet. He was bruised but generally unharmed.

Moki remained facedown and immobile. Within minutes, paramedics came,

stabilized Moki, and brought him to the hospital. Initially, there was

optimism that the paralysis would be temporary, but as the days, months,

and years went by, Moki's legs never recovered. He was paralyzed from the

waist down and had limited mobility in his arms as a result of the collision...

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you wind up looking like a sugar

cookie.

Don't grumble. Don't blame it on your bad luck. Stand tall, gaze forward,

and keep driving!

Mac had known Moki for thirty-five years and had never heard him moan

about his hardship in life. He never heard him ask, "Why me?" He never

once seemed to feel sorry for himself.

Moki went on to become an outstanding painter after his mishap. He

fathered a lovely young lady. He developed and continues to direct the

annual SuperFrog Triathlon in Coronado.

It is all too tempting to blame your position in life on some outside force, to

give up because you feel fate is against you. It's tempting to believe that

where you grew up, how your parents treated you, or what school you

attended all dictate your destiny. That couldn't be farther from the truth.
The way ordinary people and exceptional men and women deal with life's
injustice defines them all: Helen Keller, Nelson Mandela, Stephen Hawking,
Malala Yousafzai, and – Moki Martin.
4. Allow failure to instruct and strengthen you; it will
prepare you to deal with life's most difficult situations.
Your swim buddy was the guy you counted on to have your back
throughout SEAL training. On the underwater dives, you were physically
bound to your swim companion. On the lengthy swims, you were paired
with your swim companion. Throughout the training, your swim buddy
assisted you in studying, kept you motivated, and became your closest ally.
And, as swim buddies, if one of you failed an event, the penalty was shared
by both of you. It was the lecturers' method of emphasizing the
significance of collaboration.

Ensign Marc Thomas, the author's swim companion, struggled to keep up

with the rest of the SEAL training class as usual. The instructors in the
safety boat yelled for them to keep up the pace, but it seemed like the
harder they swam, the more behind they dropped.

“Drop down!” the teacher cried as they ended their swim off Coronado
Island. This was the order to get into push-up position: back straight, arms
completely extended, and head up. “Do you two consider yourself
officers?” Officers in the SEAL Teams set the example. They don't finish last
in the swims. They don't make their class seem bad.” He drew a little black
notebook from his back pocket and scribbled something in it, looking at
them with hatred. “You two have just been added to The Circus list.” He
made a shaky motion with his head. “You'll be lucky to make it another
week.”
Life is a challenge, and the possibility of failure exists at all times, yet those
who live in fear of failure, difficulty, or shame will never reach their full
potential.

The Circus was the last thing Marc or the author desired. Every afternoon
after training, the Circus was held. The Circus was two hours of further
workouts interspersed with nonstop abuse from SEAL combat veterans
who wanted only the strongest to survive the training.

If you didn't reach the criteria in any of the events that day - calisthenics,
the obstacle course, timed runs, or swims — your name was on the list.

You were a failure in the view of the professors.

What made The Circus so terrifying to the kids was not just the extra
suffering, but also the thought that the next day you would be drained from
the extra workout and so tired that you would fail to achieve the criteria
again. Another Circus would come after that, and then another, and
another. It was a deadly spiral, a never-ending sequence of the failure that
drove many pupils to drop out of school.

The Circus was harsh. Hundreds of flutter kicks, push-ups, pull-ups,

sit-ups, and eight-count bodybuilding Marc and Mac were unable to move
by the time the sunset. Failure came at a cost. But then something strange
happened as The Circuses went on. Marc and Mac's swimming improved,
and they began to move ahead in the pack.

As the training came to a close, there was one more open ocean swim, a
five-miler off the shore of San Clemente Island. Completing it within the
time limit was critical to graduating from SEAL training.

As they plunged from the pier into the ocean, the water was very cold.

Fifteen swim teams entered the water, beginning the long journey out of
the little bay, along the peninsula, and across the kelp beds. After nearly
over the speedier but hazardous Commando Style.

A grizzled old Vietnam warrior with highly polished boots and a finely
starched green uniform stood stooped over him, struggling to regain his
breath, and murmured. “When are you going to learn, Mr. Mac?” he said, his
tone clearly contemptuous. “Unless you start taking some risks, that
obstacle course is going to defeat you every time.”

One week later, Mac overcame his worries, climbed to the top of the rope,
and jumped headfirst into the water, commando style. He could see the old
Vietnam SEAL nodding his approval as he crossed the finish line in a
personal best time. It was a basic lesson on conquering your fears and
believing in your talents to complete the task at hand. The lesson would
come in handy for Mac in the future.

You will never know what is actually possible in your life if you do not push
your limitations, if you do not periodically slide down the rope headfirst, if
you do not dare enormously.

Assuming risk was standard procedure for special operations forces. To be

successful, they always pushed the limits of themselves and their
equipment. In many respects, this is what distinguishes them from the
competition.

However, contrary to popular belief, the risk was generally measured,

deliberate, and carefully planned. Even though it was impromptu, the
operators were aware of their limitations yet believed in themselves
enough to attempt it.

Throughout his career, Mac had always had high regard for the British
Special Air Service or SAS. “Who Dares Wins” was the SAS motto. The
phrase was so well-liked that Mac's Command Sergeant Major, Chris Faris,
recited it to the SEALs preparing for the bin Laden attack only seconds
before the attack. This slogan was about more than how the British special
forces worked as a unit; it was about how each of us should conduct our
lives.

Life is a challenge, and the possibility of failure exists at all times, yet those
who live in fear of failure, difficulty, or shame will never reach their full
potential.

You will never know what is possible in your life if you do not push your
limitations if you do not periodically slide down the rope headfirst if you do
not dare enormously.

Did you know that? All special operations forces face risk. To be successful,
they always pushed the limits of themselves and their equipment. In many
respects, this is what distinguishes them from the competition.

6. When you're stuck in the mud, pull up others around

you and offer them hope that tomorrow will be better.

Mac's SEAL training class went down in the famed Tijuana mudflats on
Wednesday of Hell Week. Hell Week was a watershed moment in the First
Phase of SEAL training. It had been six days of little sleep and constant
pestering from the professors. Long runs, open ocean swims, obstacle
courses, rope climbs, countless calisthenics sessions, and continual
paddling of the inflatable boat tiny were all part of the workout (IBS). Hell
Week's goal was to eradicate the weak, those who were not tough enough
to be SEALs.

According to statistics, more students resigned during Hell Week than at

any other time throughout training, and the mudflats were the most

difficult aspect of the week.

The mudflats, which were located between South San Diego and Mexico,

were a low-lying region where drainage from San Diego generated a huge

swath of deep, thick mud with the consistency of wet clay.

The trainees were forced into the mud to begin a series of races and

individual events that would keep everyone cold, wet, and unpleasant. The

muck adhered to every inch of the trainee's body. It was so dense that

navigating through it fatigued everyone and put their resolve to keep going

to the test.

The races went on for hours. The trainees could scarcely walk by the

evening due to the bone-chilling cold and exhaustion. As the sunset, the

temperature fell, the wind picked up, and everything appeared to become

even more difficult.

Morale was quickly deteriorating. For many of the youngsters, this was a

watershed event. With hands and feet swelled from continual usage and

skin so sore that even the smallest movement caused agony, the hope of

finishing the training was dwindling rapidly.

A SEAL teacher entered and consoled the students, saying, "You may join

the other instructors and me by the fire, he added, we have hot coffee and

chicken soup." We could unwind till the sun rose. Get off our backs.

Take your time.”

If you want to change the world… be your very best in the darkest

moments.” ~ William H. McRaven

Some of the pupils want to take the offer. After all, how long could they

possibly survive in the mud? The student next to Mac began to approach
moments.” ~ William H. McRaven

the teacher, knowing that if one man resigned, others would follow.

Suddenly, a voice could be heard over the roaring of the wind. I'm singing. It

sounded weary and raspy, yet loud enough for everyone to hear. The words

were not for the faint of heart, but everyone recognized the melody. One

voice became two, two became three, and soon everyone was singing.

The most powerful force in the cosmos is hope. You can inspire countries

to greatness by instilling hope in them.

The student who had been sprinting for dry ground turned around and

returned beside Mac. He began to sing as well, wrapping his arm around

his. The instructor took the bullhorn and yelled at the students to stop

singing. Nobody did. He roared at the teacher to take charge of the

trainees. The singing went on. With each threat from the instructor, the

class became stronger, and the will to persevere in the face of hardship

became unbreakable.

Mac could see the instructor's smile in the darkness, with the fire shining

on his face. The pupil has learned a vital lesson yet again: the ability of one

individual to unify a group, the ability of one individual to inspire and

provide hope to people around him If that one individual could sing while

knee-deep in muck, they certainly could. If that one individual could stand

the bitter cold, so could they. They could hold on if that one individual

could.

With hope, you can help the oppressed. With hope, you may alleviate the

agony of unfathomable loss. It only takes one person to make a change, to

start a song.

We'll all end up neck-deep in muck one day. That is the moment to sing

loudly, smile generously, and raise people around you, giving them hope for
a brighter day tomorrow.

Conclusion

Life is full of adversity. ut someone else always has it worse than you. f
B I

you spend your days feeling sorry for yourself, bemoaning your lot in life,
blaming your misfortunes on someone or something else, your life will be
lengthy and di cult. f, on the other hand, you refuse to give up on your
ffi I

aspirations and stand tall and strong in the face of adversity, life will be
what you make it – and you can make it fantastic. Never, ever blame
yourself for your misfortune, and never, ever uit up.
q

Practice: Begin each day by completing a task.

Find someone to assist you on your life's journey. Everyone

should be treated with dignity. Recognize that life is not fair
and that you will fail fre uently. ut if you take some risks, step
q B

up when times are rough, stand up to bullies, lift the

oppressed, and never, ever give up, you can transform your life
and maybe the world!