Sunday, December 20, 2015

I do not make my bed...

I am at an all-time low. I sense my old pal Steve Quick feels the same! He suspended his blog.

I see problems all around me and the world. It appears nothing can be done about them. People are losing hope, yet hope seems destroyed everywhere I turn. Like recently, I knew of a woman who told a man, "I will not leave you," in a text and then days later said We were breaking up and never contacted me again. How can we trust a human being? Especially when you think you know them, you get slapped or run over by them in a truck.

Like my last post, we are not allowed to be ourselves. In a world where everyone is preaching, we should be ourselves; we can't. I have been reminded not to have an ugly sweater contest, which is inappropriate. I have been chastised when I say Merry Christmas as I am to say "Happy Holidays."

Loved ones ask your opinion and spend hours telling you how wrong you are! I get asked for advice, yet they have yet to follow it one bit, then ask the same question again. I give the same advice, and they do something different. I can respect them for not taking my advice, but why ask me again? Frustration at the highest.

Everywhere I turn, someone complains about how I live. I chew too loud (with my mouth closed), I am deaf or stupid, the comfortable clothes are hated, and people let me know that I drive too slow, I drive too fast, I go to bed too early, I do not pick up after myself good enough, I walk to slow, I am unhealthy, I need to get a life, I am blind, and etc...  I think I can't go through a day without getting a verbal slap in the face.

Recently, I heard the 2014 University of Texas commencement speech from alum William H. McRaven. McRaven, the commander of the U.S. Special Operations Command, organized the raid that killed Osama bin Laden.  

He provided 10 lessons to life; I will only add a few, as they were the most applicable as I envision a marine who has been emotionally brought down to the dirt. Here are some of the lessons:

Lesson – Make your bed
Every morning in basic SEAL training, my instructors, who were all Viet Nam veterans at the time, would show up in my barracks room, and the first thing they would inspect was my bed. If you did it right, the corners would be square, the covers pulled tight, the pillow centered just under the headboard, and the extra blanket folded neatly at the foot of the rack—rack—that's Navy talk for bed.

It was a simple task—mundane at best—but we were required to make our beds to perfection every morning. It seemed a little ridiculous at the time, mainly because we were aspiring to be real warriors, stern battle-hardened SEALs—but the wisdom of this simple act has been proven to me many times over.

If you make your bed every morning, you will have accomplished the day's first task. This will give you a small sense of pride and encourage you to do another task and another. By the end of the day, that one task will have turned into many tasks completed. Making your bed will also reinforce the fact that little things in life matter.

You must do the little things right to do the big things right.
And, if you have a miserable day by chance, you will come home to a bed that is made—that you made—and a made bed encourages you that tomorrow will be better.

If you want to change the world, start by making your bed.
  
Lesson – Have a BIG Heart

After a few weeks of difficult training, my SEAL class started with 150 men and was down to 35. There were now six boat crews of seven men each. I was in the boat with the tall guys, but our best boat crew was made up of the little guys—the munchkin crew, we called them—no one was over about 5-foot-five. The munchkin boat crew had one American Indian, one African American, one Polish American, one Greek American, one Italian American, and two tough kids from the Midwest. They out-paddled, out-ran, and out-swam all the other boat crews.

The big men in the other boat crews would always make good-natured fun of the tiny little flippers the munchkins put on their tiny little feet before every swim.
But somehow, these little guys, from every corner of the Nation and the world, always had the last laugh— swimming faster than everyone and reaching the shore long before the rest of us.

SEAL training was a great equalizer. Nothing mattered but your will to succeed—not your color, not your ethnic background, not your education, and not your social status.

If you want to change the world, measure a person by the size of their heart, not their flippers.

Lesson – Keep Moving Forward
Several times a week, the instructors would line up the class and do a uniform inspection. It was extensive. Your hat had to be perfectly starched, your uniform immaculately pressed, and your belt buckle shiny and void of smudges.

But it needed to improve no matter how much effort you put into starching your hat, pressing your uniform, or polishing your belt buckle. The instructors would find "something" wrong. To fail the uniform inspection, the student had to run, fully clothed, into the surf zone and then, wet from head to toe, roll around on the beach until every part of their body was covered with sand.
The effect was known as a "sugar cookie." You stayed in that uniform the rest of the day—cold, wet, and sandy.

Many students couldn't accept that all their efforts were in vain and that it was unappreciated no matter how hard they tried to get the uniform right. Those students didn't make it through training. Those students needed help understanding the purpose of the drill. You were going to fail. You were never going to have a perfect uniform.

Sometimes, you still end up as a sugar cookie, no matter how well you prepare or perform. It's just the way life is sometimes.

If you want to change the world, get over being a sugar cookie and keep moving forward.
  
Lesson  – Do not ring the bell
Finally, in SEAL training, a brass bell hangs in the center of the compound for all the students to see. All you have to do to quit is ring the bell. Ring the bell, and you no longer have to wake up at 5. Ring the bell, and you no longer have to do the freezing cold swims.

Ring the bell, and you no longer have to do the runs, the obstacle course, the PT—and you no longer have to endure the hardships of training.

Just ring the bell.

If you want to change the world, never ring the bell.

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, but if you take some risks, step up when the times are toughest, face the bullies, lift up the downtrodden, and never give up. If you do these things, the next generation and the generations that follow will live in a world far better than the one we have today, and what started here will indeed have changed the world for the better.

It was a GREAT speech with many truths. I still choose not to ring the bell, but these past three months, I have taken every ounce of energy to ring it loud and clear.  

Oh, I made my bed yesterday. It may have made a difference, but I will try again.

No comments: