特种作战指挥部第九指挥官William H. McRaven 得克萨斯大学奥斯汀分校毕业典礼上的讲话
(William H. McRaven Speech at University of Texas at Austin graduation English original transcript follows the Chinese)
得克萨斯大学的口号是“改变世界从这里开始”。我不得不承认——我有点喜欢这句话。
“改变世界从这里开始。”
今晚，有近8,000名学生从得克萨斯大学毕业。
严密分析的伟大典范Ask.Com告诉我们，美国人平均一生中要遇到10,000个人。
这可是很大的数目。就算你们每个人只改变10个人的生活，而那些人中的每一个又去改变另外10个人——就10个——那么五代人以后，即125年后，2014届的毕业生将会改变八亿人的生活。
八亿人啊——想想看：美国人口的两倍多。再多一代人的话，你们就可以改变整个世界的人口了——80亿人。
如果你认为改变10个人的生活、永远改变他们的生活是件很难的事，那你就错了。我看到这样的事每天都在伊拉克和阿富汗发生。
一名年轻的陆军军官决定沿巴格达一条路的左边行进而不走右边，与他同行的10名士兵得以幸免于一次近距离的伏击。
在阿富汗的坎大哈省(Kandahar province)，一名女子战斗队(Female Engagement Team)的士官感觉到有些不对劲，指挥步兵排避开了一个500磅的简易爆炸装置(IED)，拯救了十几名士兵的生命。
不过，如果你细想一下，不光是这些士兵因为一人的决定得救了，他们尚未出生的孩子同样得救了，他们孩子的孩子也得救了。
数代人因为一个人的一个决定得救了。
而改变世界的事情在任何地方都可以发生，任何人都能够做得到。
所以，起步于此的东西真的可以改变世界，但问题是：你改变世界后，世界会是什么样子？
嗯，我相信世界会变得好很多，但如果你能容忍我这个老水手多唠叨一会儿，我有几条建议要提，它们可以在你让世界变得更美好的过程中对你有所帮助。
虽然这些经验教训是我在军队期间学到的，但我可以向你们保证，你是否曾穿上军装服过一天役并不重要，你的性别、民族或宗教背景、你的取向、你的社会地 位并不重要。我们在这个世界上遇到的难事是相似的，克服那些困难向前进——改变自我及我们周围的世界——的经验教训同等地适用于所有人。
我在海豹突击队(Navy SEAL)已有36年，这一切始于我离开得克萨斯大学，前往加利福尼亚州科罗纳多市(Coronado)接受海豹突击队基本训练(Basic SEAL training)。
海豹突击队基本训练就是在为期六个月的时间里，在柔软的沙滩上痛苦地长跑，午夜在 迭戈(San Diego)近海寒冷的水中游泳，障碍越野训练，无休止的健美操，连续数日不睡觉以及成天都在寒冷、潮湿和痛苦中挣扎。
那是不断被受过专业训练的勇士骚扰的六个月，他们试图找出身体和心灵上的弱者并将其从海豹突击队淘汰。
不过，那里的训练也意在发现那些在持续的压力、混乱、失败和艰苦环境下能够发挥领导作用的学生。对我来说，海豹突击队的基本训练是把一生的挑战浓缩到了六个月的时间里。
下面就是我在海豹突击队基本训练中学到的经验教训，希望于你们在人生中前进之际对你们有价值。
1. 在海豹突击队基本训练中，每天早晨，我的教官们（他们当时全都是越战老兵）会来到我的营房宿舍，他们要检查的第一个东西就是你的床。如果你做好了，被子四 角就会是方方正正的，床单拉得平平整整，枕头放在床头的正中，多余的毯子整齐地叠放在搁物架下面——这就是海军所说的床。
这是一项简单的任务，充其量可以称为平凡。但是每天早晨，我们都必须把床整理得完美无缺。当时这看上去有点荒唐可笑，尤其是考虑到这样一个事实：我们都渴望成为真正的勇士、成为久经沙场的海豹突击队员。可是这种简单行为中所含的智慧已经反复多次在我这里得到证明。
如果你每天早上整理床铺，你就完成了一天中的第一项任务。它会给你小小的一点自豪感，鼓励你再去执行一项又一项的任务。到一天结束的时候，完成了的那一项任务就变成了多项已经完成的任务。整理床铺也会进一步证明一个事实：生活中的小事很重要。
如果小事都做不好，你永远也成就不了大事业。
如果碰巧有一天你遭遇了痛苦，你回到家会躺到一张整理好的床上——这床是你整理好的——整理得井井有条的床铺会给你鼓劲，让你相信明天会更好。
如果你想改变世界，那就从整理你的床铺开始。
2. 在海豹突击队训练期间，学员被拆分成多个皮艇小组。每个小组有七名学员——小橡皮艇的两侧各三名以及一名帮助导航的舵手。每天，皮艇小组在海滩上整队集合，接受穿越激浪地带的指示，沿着海岸划上好几英里的船。
冬天的时候， 迭戈近海的海浪可达8-10英尺（约合2.4-3.1米）高，除非人人挥桨，否则划船穿越猛扑过来的海浪极其困难。每一支桨必须与舵手发出的划桨指令保持同步，每个人必须用相同的力气，否则船会转向，与海浪迎面相对，毫不客气地被扔回到海滩上。
要让船到达目的地，每个人都必须划桨。
你一个人无法改变世界——你会需要一些帮助——要真正从你的起点到达你的终点，你需要朋友、同事、陌生人的善意以及引导他们的一个坚强舵手。
如果你想改变世界，一定要找人帮你划桨。
3. 经过几周的艰苦训练之后，我们这个开始有150人的海豹突击队训练班人数减少到只有42人，现在的皮艇小组有六个，每组七名成员。
我与高个子们在同一条船上，但我们最好的皮艇小组是由小个子成员组成的——我们称他们为小家伙皮艇组，他们没有一个人身高超过5.5英尺（约合168厘米）。
小家伙皮艇组里有一名印第安人、一名非洲裔美国人、一名波兰裔美国人、一名希腊裔美国人、一名意大利裔美国人和来自中西部的两个健壮小伙子。
他们划船、跑步和游泳都赛过了其它所有皮艇小组。
每次游泳前，其它皮艇小组的大个子总是会善意地打趣小家伙们穿在脚上的小小脚蹼。但不知怎么搞的，这些来自美国和世界各个角落的小个头们总是笑到最后——比谁都游得快，在我们其他人之前早早就到达了岸边。
海豹突击队的训练是一个伟大的均衡器，除了你的意志以外，别的东西都不重要。你的肤色、你的种族背景、你的教育程度和你的社会地位都无关紧要。
如果你想改变世界，以人们内心的大小而不是他们脚蹼的大小来衡量他们。
4. 一周好几次，教官会让全班列队检查军容风纪。检查内容格外全面。你的帽子必须非常硬挺，你的军装必须熨得平平整整，你的皮带扣必须油光?亮，没有任何污迹。
但好像不管你费多大劲让帽子变得硬挺、熨烫军装或擦亮皮带扣，就是做得不够好。教官总会挑出点“毛病”。
如果军容风纪检查不合格，学员就得穿戴整齐地跑到激浪地带，然后在从头到脚湿透的情况下在海滩上滚翻，直到身体每一个部分都被沙覆盖。这种效果被称为“砂糖曲奇”(sugar cookie)。你在那一天剩下的时间里都要穿着那身军装——冰冷、潮湿、满身沙粒。
有很多学员就是无法接受自己所有的努力皆白费力气这样一个事实。不管他们尽了多大力让军容符合规定，他们的努力就是得不到认同。
那些学员没能顺利通过训练。他们没有弄明白这种训练的目的。你永远也不会成功，你的军容永远也不会十全十美。
有时，不管你准备多么充分，或者表现多么优异，你最终仍然会变成一个砂糖曲奇。有时生活就是这个样子。
如果你想改变世界，克服沦为砂糖曲奇带来的影响，继续前进。
5. 每天的训练之中，你都面临多项体力活动的挑战。长跑、长距离游泳、障碍越野、数小时的健美操——旨在测试你耐力的东西。
每一项运动都有标准、你必须达标的时间。如果你未能达标，你的名字就被张榜公布，等到这一天结束的时候，那些榜上有名的人就会应邀表演一场“马戏”。
马戏就是额外两小时的健美操训练，目的是耗尽你的体力，击垮你的精神，迫使你知难而退。没人想表演马戏。马戏意味着那天你没有合格，意味着更加疲惫，而更加疲惫意味着第二天会更难熬——那就有可能会有更多的马戏。
不过，到了海豹突击队训练期间的某个时候，每个人——每一个人——都上过马戏名单。不过，一件有趣的事情发生在那些经常上榜的人身上。随着时间的推移，那些额外加练两小时健美操的学员变得越来越壮。马戏的痛苦练就了内功——练就了身体的柔韧性。
生活中充满了马戏。你会失败，你很可能经常失败，那是件痛苦的事，让人灰心丧气。有时，它可以考验你的内在本质。
但如果你想改变世界，就不要害怕马戏。
6. 至少一周两次，受训学员要按要求跑障碍越野。障碍越野的跑道上有25处障碍，包括一堵10英尺（约合3.1米）高的 、一个30英尺（约合9.2米）的吊货网和一个训练匍匐前进的铁丝网等等。
但是最具挑战性的障碍是逃生滑绳。障碍一端有一个30英尺（约合9.2米）高的三层塔台，另一端是一个一层的塔台，两个塔台之间是一根200英尺（约合61米）长的绳子。
你必须爬上三层高的塔台，爬到顶端后，你要抓住绳子，吊在绳子下面，两手交替着向前移动，直到你到达绳子的另一端。
我们的训练班1977年开班的时候，障碍越野的记录已经保持了多年，好像那是一个无法打破的记录，直到有一天一名学员决定换种方式过滑绳——以头朝前的方式。他没有让身体吊在绳子下面一点一点向前挪，而是勇敢地攀到了绳子的上面奋力向前行进。
那是一个危险的举动——看上去有点愚蠢，充满了危险。一旦失手可能就意味着受伤并从训练中淘汰。那名学员毫不犹豫地在绳子上滑了下去，险象环生，但很神速。他花的时间不是几分钟，而是只用了一半的时间，到最终跑完全程的时候他已破了记录。
如果你想改变世界，有时候你必须以头朝前的方式从障碍上滑下。
7. 在陆战训练阶段，学员们坐飞机被带到 迭戈附近的 克利门蒂岛(San Clemente Island)。 克利门蒂岛近海水域是大白鲨的繁殖区域。要通过海豹突击队的训练，必须完成一系列的长距离游泳科目，其中之一是夜间游泳。
开游之前，教官会欢欣愉悦地向受训学员简要介绍栖息在 克利门蒂岛附近海域的大白鲨的各个种类。不过，教官们会向你保证，还从来没有学员被鲨鱼吃掉——至少最近没有。
但是，你也会得到指导，如果一条鲨鱼开始围着你转，那请呆在原地，不要游开，不要露怯。如果这条鲨鱼想吃夜宵，向你冲了过来，那你要使出全身力气猛击它的鼻子部位，那样它会转身游走。 世上有很多鲨鱼，如果你希望完成游泳，你就必须要去对付它们。
因此，如果你想改变世界，在鲨鱼面前不要退缩。
8. 作为海豹突击队员，我们的任务之一是从水下袭击敌人的舰船。我们在基本训练期间大量练习了这种技术。执行袭击舰船的任务时，海豹突击队的一对潜水员在敌人 港口外下水，然后游两英里（约合3.2公里）多的距离——潜在水下——仅仅利用一个深度计和一个指南针抵达目标。
在整个游泳期间，即便是在水面以下很深的地方，还是会有一些光线透下来。知道你的上方是一片开阔水域让人感到欣慰，但是当你靠近绑在码头上的船只的时候，光线开始减弱。船的钢结构挡住了月光，挡住了周围的路灯光，挡住了所有的环境光线。
要成功完成任务，你必须在船底下游泳，找到龙骨——船的中心线和最深的部分。这是你的目标。可是龙骨也是整船最暗的一部分，在那里你伸手不见五指，船的机器噪音震耳欲聋，你很容易迷失方向，从而致使行动失败。
每一名海豹突击队员都知道，在龙骨下面，在整个任务最黑暗的时刻，你必须沉着冷静——那种时候你得使出你所有的战术技巧、你的体能以及你全部的内在力量。
如果你想改变世界，你必须在最黑暗的时刻把自己的能力发挥到极致。
9. 海豹突击队训练的第九周被称为地狱之周(Hell Week)，六天不能睡觉，不断遭受体力和心理上的骚扰，还要在泥滩(Mud Flats)度过特别的一天。泥滩是 迭戈和蒂华纳(Tijuana)之间的一片区域，水流失之后形成了蒂华纳湿地——这是一片淤泥会将你吞噬的沼泽地形。
就在地狱之周的星期三，你要划船进入泥滩，在随后的15个小时里尽力从冰冷刺骨的泥潭、呼啸的狂风以及教官不断让你放弃的压力中熬过来。
就在那个周三太阳开始落下的时候，我们这个训练班因“严重违反纪律”而被命令跳进泥滩。淤泥淹没了每一个人，最后除了脑袋什么都看不见了。教官告诉我们只要五个人放弃，我们就可以离开泥滩——只需五人，我们就可以摆脱这难以忍受的寒冷。
环顾泥滩，很明显有些学员打算要放弃了。距离太阳升起来尚有八个多小时——八个多小时的刺骨寒冷。学员们牙齿颤栗和颤抖的呻吟声音之大，很难听到其它任何声音。然后，一个声音开始在夜色中回荡——一个唱歌的声音。
歌曲的调子跑得离谱，但唱得极富激情。声音从一个变成两个，两个变成三个，没过多久全班每一个人都唱了起来。
我们明白，如果一个人能够从痛苦中超脱出来，那么其他人也可以做到。教官威胁我们说，如果继续唱歌，我们就得在稀泥中呆更长的时间——但是歌继续唱了下去。不知怎么搞的，泥潭似乎变暖和了一些，风变得柔和了一点，黎明也不再那么遥远。
如果说我在游历世界期间学到点东西的话，那就是希望的力量。一个人的力量——华盛顿(Washington)、林肯(Lincoln)、金 (King)、曼德拉(Mandela)，甚至巴基斯坦一个名叫马拉拉(Malala)的女孩——可以通过给予人希望而改变世界。
因此，如果你想改变世界，当泥浆没及你的脖子时，开始唱歌。
10. 最后，在海豹突击队训练中有一口钟，一口挂在训练队大院中心让全体学员都看得见的铜钟。
如想放弃，你要做的唯一一件事是敲响这钟。敲钟之后，你再也不必早上五点醒来。敲钟之后，你再也不必在冰冷的水里游泳。敲钟之后，你再也不必参加跑步、障碍越野、体能训练——而且你再也不必忍受训练的艰苦。只需敲钟就行。
如果你想要改变世界，永远不要敲那个钟。
对于2014届的毕业生而言，你们转眼就要毕业了，转眼就要开始你们的人生旅程，转眼就要开始改变世界——让世界变得更美好。
这并非易事。
每天以一件完成的任务开始
在人生途中找人来助你一臂之力
尊重每一个人，明白人生是不公平的，你经常会遭遇失败，但如果在最艰难的时候你担当风险、勇敢向前，惩恶扬善、救人于水火，且永不放弃——如果你做到了这些，那么下一代人以及其后的世世代代就会生活在一个远比今天美好得多的世界 里。在这里的起步真的就会改变世界，让它变得更加美好。
谢谢大家
Hook ’em horns
William H. McRaven
The following is the English Version of the Speech
The following are the remarks by Naval Adm. William H. McRaven, ninth commander of U.S. Special Operations Command, at the University-wide Commencement at The University of Texas at Austin on May 17:
http://www.utexas.edu/news/2014/05/16/admiral-mcraven-commencement-speech/
President Powers, Provost Fenves, Deans, members of the faculty, family and friends and most importantly, the class of 2014. Congratulations on your achievement.
It’s been almost 37 years to the day that I graduated from UT.
I remember a lot of things about that day.
I remember I had throbbing headache from a party the night before. I remember I had a serious girlfriend, whom I later married—that’s important to remember by the way—and I remember that I was getting commissioned in the Navy that day.
But of all the things I remember, I don’t have a clue who the commencement speaker was that evening and I certainly don’t remember anything they said.
So…acknowledging that fact—if I can’t make this commencement speech memorable—I will at least try to make it short.
The University’s slogan is,
“What starts here changes the world.”
I have to admit—I kinda like it.
“What starts here changes the world.”
Tonight there are almost 8,000 students graduating from UT.
That great paragon of analytical rigor, Ask.Com says that the average American will meet 10,000 people in their life time.
That’s a lot of folks.
But, if every one of you changed the lives of just ten people—and each one of those folks changed the lives of another ten people—just ten—then in five generations—125 years—the class of 2014 will have changed the lives of 800 million people.
800 million people—think of it—over twice the population of the United States. Go one more generation and you can change the entire population of the world—8 billion people.
If you think it’s hard to change the lives of ten people—change their lives forever—you’re wrong.
I saw it happen every day in Iraq and Afghanistan.
A young Army officer makes a decision to go left instead of right down a road in Baghdad and the ten soldiers in his squad are saved from close-in ambush.
In Kandahar province, Afghanistan, a non-commissioned officer from the Female Engagement Team senses something isn’t right and directs the infantry platoon away from a 500 pound IED, saving the lives of a dozen soldiers.
But, if you think about it, not only were these soldiers saved by the decisions of one person, but their children yet unborn—were also saved. And their children’s children—were saved.
Generations were saved by one decision—by one person.
But changing the world can happen anywhere and anyone can do it.
So, what starts here can indeed change the world, but the question is…what will the world look like after you change it?
Well, I am confident that it will look much, much better, but if you will humor this old sailor for just a moment, I have a few suggestions that may help you on your way to a better a world.
And while these lessons were learned during my time in the military, I can assure you that it matters not whether you ever served a day in uniform.
It matters not your gender, your ethnic or religious background, your orientation, or your social status.
Our struggles in this world are similar and the lessons to overcome those struggles and to move forward—changing ourselves and the world around us—will apply equally to all.
I have been a Navy SEAL for 36 years. But it all began when I left UT for Basic SEAL training in Coronado, California.
Basic SEAL training is six months of long torturous runs in the soft sand, midnight swims in the cold water off San Diego, obstacles courses, unending calisthenics, days without sleep and always being cold, wet and miserable.
It is six months of being constantly harassed by professionally trained warriors who seek to find the weak of mind and body and eliminate them from ever becoming a Navy SEAL.
But, the training also seeks to find those students who can lead in an environment of constant stress, chaos, failure and hardships.
To me basic SEAL training was a life time of challenges crammed into six months.
So, here are the ten lesson’s I learned from basic SEAL training that hopefully will be of value to you as you move forward in life.
Every morning in basic SEAL training, my instructors, who at the time were all Viet Nam veterans, would show up in my barracks room and the first thing they would inspect was your 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 every morning we were required to make our bed to perfection. It seemed a little ridiculous at the time, particularly in light of the fact that were aspiring to be real warriors, tough 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 first task of the day. It will give you a small sense of pride and it will encourage you to do another task and another and another.
By the end of the day, that one task completed will have turned into many tasks completed. Making your bed will also reinforce the fact that little things in life matter.
If you can’t do the little things right, you will never do the big things right.
And, if by chance you have a miserable day, you will come home to a bed that is made—that you made—and a made bed gives you encouragement that tomorrow will be better.
If you want to change the world, start off by making your bed.
During SEAL training the students are broken down into boat crews. Each crew is seven students—three on each side of a small rubber boat and one coxswain to help guide the dingy.
Every day your boat crew forms up on the beach and is instructed to get through the surfzone and paddle several miles down the coast.
In the winter, the surf off San Diego can get to be 8 to 10 feet high and it is exceedingly difficult to paddle through the plunging surf unless everyone digs in.
Every paddle must be synchronized to the stroke count of the coxswain. Everyone must exert equal effort or the boat will turn against the wave and be unceremoniously tossed back on the beach.
For the boat to make it to its destination, everyone must paddle.
You can’t change the world alone—you will need some help— and to truly get from your starting point to your destination takes friends, colleagues, the good will of strangers and a strong coxswain to guide them.
If you want to change the world, find someone to help you paddle.
Over a few weeks of difficult training my SEAL class which started with 150 men was down to just 35. There were now six boat crews of seven men each.
I was in the boat with the tall guys, but the best boat crew we had was made up of the 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 America, one Greek American, one Italian American, and two tough kids from the mid-west.
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 prior to 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 the size of their flippers.
Several times a week, the instructors would line up the class and do a uniform inspection. It was exceptionally thorough.
Your hat had to be perfectly starched, your uniform immaculately pressed and your belt buckle shiny and void of any smudges.
But it seemed that no matter how much effort you put into starching your hat, or pressing your uniform or polishing your belt buckle—- it just wasn’t good enough.
The instructors would fine “something” wrong.
For failing the uniform inspection, the student had to run, fully clothed into the surfzone and then, wet from head to toe, roll around on the beach until every part of your 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.
There were many a student who just couldn’t accept the fact that all their effort was in vain. That no matter how hard they tried to get the uniform right—it was unappreciated.
Those students didn’t make it through training.
Those students didn’t understand the purpose of the drill. You were never going to succeed. You were never going to have a perfect uniform.
Sometimes no matter how well you prepare or how well you perform you still end up as a sugar cookie.
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.
Every day during training you were challenged with multiple physical events—long runs, long swims, obstacle courses, hours of calisthenics—something designed to test your mettle.
Every event had standards—times you had to meet. If you failed to meet those standards your name was posted on a list and at the end of the day those on the list were invited to—a “circus.”
A circus was two hours of additional calisthenics—designed to wear you down, to break your spirit, to force you to quit.
No one wanted a circus.
A circus meant that for that day you didn’t measure up. A circus meant more fatigue—and more fatigue meant that the following day would be more difficult—and more circuses were likely.
But at some time during SEAL training, everyone—everyone—made the circus list.
But an interesting thing happened to those who were constantly on the list. Overtime those students-—who did two hours of extra calisthenics—got stronger and stronger.
The pain of the circuses built inner strength-built physical resiliency.
Life is filled with circuses.
You will fail. You will likely fail often. It will be painful. It will be discouraging. At times it will test you to your very core.
But if you want to change the world, don’t be afraid of the circuses.
At least twice a week, the trainees were required to run the obstacle course. The obstacle course contained 25 obstacles including a 10-foot high wall, a 30-foot cargo net, and a barbed wire crawl to name a few.
But the most challenging obstacle was the slide for life. It had a three level 30 foot tower at one end and a one level tower at the other. In between was a 200-foot long rope.
You had to climb the three tiered tower and once at the top, you grabbed the rope, swung underneath the rope and pulled yourself hand over hand until you got to the other end.
The record for the obstacle course had stood for years when my class began training in 1977.
The record seemed unbeatable, until one day, a student decided to go down the slide for life—head first.
Instead of swinging his body underneath the rope and inching his way down, he bravely mounted the TOP of the rope and thrust himself forward.
It was a dangerous move—seemingly foolish, and fraught with risk. Failure could mean injury and being dropped from the training.
Without hesitation—the student slid down the rope—perilously fast, instead of several minutes, it only took him half that time and by the end of the course he had broken the record.
If you want to change the world sometimes you have to slide down the obstacle head first.
During the land warfare phase of training, the students are flown out to San Clemente Island which lies off the coast of San Diego.
The waters off San Clemente are a breeding ground for the great white sharks. To pass SEAL training there are a series of long swims that must be completed. One—is the night swim.
Before the swim the instructors joyfully brief the trainees on all the species of sharks that inhabit the waters off San Clemente.
They assure you, however, that no student has ever been eaten by a shark—at least not recently.
But, you are also taught that if a shark begins to circle your position—stand your ground. Do not swim away. Do not act afraid.
And if the shark, hungry for a midnight snack, darts towards you—then summons up all your strength and punch him in the snout and he will turn and swim away.
There are a lot of sharks in the world. If you hope to complete the swim you will have to deal with them.
So, If you want to change the world, don’t back down from the sharks.
As Navy SEALs one of our jobs is to conduct underwater attacks against enemy shipping. We practiced this technique extensively during basic training.
The ship attack mission is where a pair of SEAL divers is dropped off outside an enemy harbor and then swims well over two miles—underwater—using nothing but a depth gauge and a compass to get to their target.
During the entire swim, even well below the surface there is some light that comes through. It is comforting to know that there is open water above you.
But as you approach the ship, which is tied to a pier, the light begins to fade. The steel structure of the ship blocks the moonlight—it blocks the surrounding street lamps—it blocks all ambient light.
To be successful in your mission, you have to swim under the ship and find the keel—the centerline and the deepest part of the ship.
This is your objective. But the keel is also the darkest part of the ship—where you cannot see your hand in front of your face, where the noise from the ship’s machinery is deafening and where it is easy to get disoriented and fail.
Every SEAL knows that under the keel, at the darkest moment of the mission—is the time when you must be calm, composed—when all your tactical skills, your physical power and all your inner strength must be brought to bear.
If you want to change the world, you must be your very best in the darkest moment.
The ninth week of training is referred to as “Hell Week.” It is six days of no sleep, constant physical and mental harassment and—one special day at the Mud Flats—the Mud Flats are area between San Diego and Tijuana where the water runs off and creates the Tijuana slue’s—a swampy patch of terrain where the mud will engulf you.
It is on Wednesday of Hell Week that you paddle down to the mud flats and spend the next 15 hours trying to survive the freezing cold mud, the howling wind and the incessant pressure to quit from the instructors.
As the sun began to set that Wednesday evening, my training class, having committed some “egregious infraction of the rules” was ordered into the mud.
The mud consumed each man till there was nothing visible but our heads. The instructors told us we could leave the mud if only five men would quit—just five men and we could get out of the oppressive cold.
Looking around the mud flat it was apparent that some students were about to give up. It was still over eight hours till the sun came up—eight more hours of bone chilling cold.
The chattering teeth and shivering moans of the trainees were so loud it was hard to hear anything and then, one voice began to echo through the night—one voice raised in song.
The song was terribly out of tune, but sung with great enthusiasm.
One voice became two and two became three and before long everyone in the class was singing.
We knew that if one man could rise above the misery then others could as well.
The instructors threatened us with more time in the mud if we kept up the singing—but the singing persisted.
And somehow—the mud seemed a little warmer, the wind a little tamer and the dawn not so far away.
If I have learned anything in my time traveling the world, it is the power of hope. The power of one person—Washington, Lincoln, King, Mandela and even a young girl from Pakistan—Malala—one person can change the world by giving people hope.
So, if you want to change the world, start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud.
Finally, in SEAL training there is a bell. A brass bell that 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 o’clock. 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 don’t ever, ever ring the bell.
To the graduating class of 2014, you are moments away from graduating. Moments away from beginning your journey through life. Moments away starting to change the world—for the better.
It will not be easy.
But, YOU are the class of 2014—the class that can affect the lives of 800 million people in the next century.
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 take you take some risks, step up when the times are toughest, face down the bullies, lift up the downtrodden and never, ever give up—if you do these things, then 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.
Thank you very much. Hook ’em horns.