Humility

Humility is a good weapon.

It’s undervalued, reliable, and durable.

It doesn’t need much maintenance; once you pick it up, it stays effective for a long time.

All you have to do is keep it fresh in your mind, but that’s the easy part.

The hard part is seeing it, accepting it, and stepping forward with its wisdom.

Humility is knowing yourself deeply and honestly.

Humility is standing over a barbell and knowing you have what it takes to rip it the fuck off the floor, and knowing that the barbell at your feet is only the next step of a long, slow journey, a journey with no real, tangible end.

But people don’t want humility because they think it’s boring, reserved, and fragile. People don’t want humility because they don’t see the humble plastered on Instagram, screaming their opinions, and piling the admiration of the masses.

It doesn’t fit their preference.

It doesn’t fill them with fervor.

It’s not worshipped and celebrated.

It’s misunderstood.

And so humility gets lost, forgotten.

But it’s a reliable weapon.

And it should be embraced by warriors of this Creed.

Because humility is truly knowing yourself.

And if you truly know yourself, you know three things: where you are now, where you want to be, and the limitless opportunities within arm’s reach to make it happen. That is knowing yourself. That shit is humbling because it admits lack, or defect. At the same time, it acknowledges that the path before you, winding precariously toward a decided future, does exist. You’re not as good as you could be, and there’s somewhere you ought to be heading.

Weights are humbling. A pullup bar is humbling. A new craft, practice, or skill is humbling.

Sweating and bleeding for your goal, your ambitions, you vision, is fucking humbling.

Admitting there is somewhere you ought to be heading is humbling.

If there wasn’t anywhere to go, you’d sit right where you are, never stepping into uncertainty, never asking what else you’re capable of.

But you know yourself.

So you step into uncertainty, expecting challenge, knowing well the result is a stronger you.

And you wonder what else you’re capable of, curiosity luring your mind into fatigue and discomfort.

And you’ve embraced some level of humility, that undervalued, lost, forgotten, weapon.

It doesn’t mean lowering yourself out of any spotlight or abandoning the podium, leaving greatness for someone else. It’s not about forsaking achievement and abandoning the grind.

Fuck that.

It’s a personality trait that you see in the mirror every morning. It’s an inward knowledge of your past, present, and exciting future. Humility is being well-acquainted with a pullup bar, never thinking yourself its master, always acknowledging the room you have to grow.

Don’t look to Instagram, opinions, or the admiration of the masses for your weapons.

Distance yourself from what is worshipped and celebrated.

Look in the mirror each morning.

Get close to sweat and blood, fatigue.

Enter the arena and grip the bar, hit the bag.

When you finish that rep, that set, this workout, when you close your eyes at night, know yourself deeply and honestly.

Show the fuck up.

Again.

Again.

That’s humility.