GATHER AROUND THE FIRE

I was actually in the middle of writing another post when I started discussing this analogy within it and realized that THIS was what I wanted to write today, so here we are.  Gathering around the fire is one of the most romanticized images in our human existence, a notion dating back to our earliest ancestors eeking out an existence out in the wilderness after having achieved the mastery of fire and, in doing so, securing our place outside of the state of nature ever so slightly as the group that would one day grow to become the greatest apex predators in existence.  It was around these communal fires that security and shelter were established, food was cooked and victories were celebrated.  The communal fire was were cavepeople found warmth and comfort, where the Mongols heated up their shields and combined various food spoils of war to create the Mongolian grill (allegedly), and, ultimately, where stories, myths and legends were shared.  And in doing so, I’m already sharing stories, myths and legends ABOUT sharing stories, myths and legends, because who knows for sure if this ever really happened around these fires or if it’s just something we created in order to perpetuate our own romantic ideals in order to have something worth striving for…but, in that regard, what does it matter if it’s true?  Which is the same thing to ask when it comes time to share these stories around our communal fire.  Let’s not let a little thing like truth get in the way of a good story.

This was a lie told in a story about a sport that didn't exist...which made the story even better

These community fires are what we once had in the gyms and training centers of the world.  Lifters would come together and share ideas, stories, and theories on physical transformation.  It was the science lab, where things were getting tested, results were being observed, ideas were being chained and linked together, and ultimately a cultural tapestry was being weaved with the stories, myths and legends of the iron.  This was supplemented (pun partially intended) with whatever the Muscle Mag du jour had to say that month regarding whatever the current Mr Wonderful was eating, drinking and doing in their training, or whatever wild bit of prophecy Louie Simmons released in this month’s issue of Powerlifting USA, but the information flow was a trickle, sparse, and you could die from thirst trying to drink from it.  Instead, you’d have your local pocket of mythology, your tribal customs and culture that was amalgamated from whatever the resident big guy had shared from his own iron mountain and the remaining bro-science necessary to cover whatever gaps you had.

 

What SHOULD have happened with the advent of the internet and subsequent development of forums and social media?  A much BIGGER fire for us to gather around and, in turn, more stories to share.  We SHOULD have developed a RICHER culture with this opportunity to share.  Instead, we sterilized ourselves.  We eliminated our culture.  We banished stories, because we had no more room for myths and legends in the face of “facts”. 

Oh yeah, this is SO much better than art deco...

 

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?”

 

Nietzsche spoke of the same process there: we killed our mythology and replaced our god with science, and in doing so created this idea that there is only ONE “true” way to achieve physical transformation.  But, young philosophers, as the esteemed Dr. Jones pointed out: don’t not mistake fact for truth! 

Also another great philosophical quip

I’m getting away from myself here, let me wrangle it back.  Instead of using this greater sharing capacity to share more stories, people have used it as an opportunity to “fact check” the story tellers.  One mentions Super Squats story of gaining 30lbs of muscle in 6 weeks and the response is “that’s scientifically impossible, reference these studies that discuss the exact amount of muscle one can put on in a 6 week timeframe”.  They hear the diet of a gallon of milk a day and the response is “according to the latest research, no one needs that much of a caloric surplus to put on muscle”.  And, of course, they hear the program and retort “according to my favorite influencer, you don’t need to train that hard to grow muscle, and barbell squats are an outdated and unnecessary movement.”

 

And in all of this, the fact checkers are failing to understand the POINT of a story.  As I wrote: never let a little thing like “the truth” get in the way of a good story.  When stories were shared around the communal fire, the intent was NOT to relay a 100% factual telling of an event that occurred.  A person who does such a thing is NOT a storyteller: they are simply a parrot.  The talent of a storyteller is to captivate the audience, lure them in, keep their attention and, ultimately, impart a message upon them.  The audience should leave the story with more than what they entered with: a lesson, a message, a “takeaway”.  In the story of Super Squats, sure: we get a training program and a diet.  But what we take AWAY from the story of Super Squats is that, in order to achieve extraordinary results in the weight room, one must execute extraordinary effort in their training AND in their diet.  Is the 30lbs of muscle in 6 weeks fabrication?  Perhaps.  Perhaps it’s a bit of a fish story, where the truth was stretched in order to make things more exciting.  Does it matter?  No, because the LESSON of the story is what is important here.  Every trainee who undergoes a legit 6 weeks of Super Squats is transformed at the end of it, not just physically, but spiritually.  Their entire BEING is different, for now they are a creature that knows OBSESSIVE hard work in the gym and in the kitchen.  They know how to live, eat, and breath(ing squat) pursuit of physical transformation, and what drove them to even undertake this journey was the STORY of Super Squats, shared around our communal fire, by wild-eyed storytellers spinning myths and legends.

Whatever story he's telling, I'm listening to

 

NO ONE at the communal fire appreciates that person interrupting the story to interject their thoughts on the factual accuracy of the telling.  It takes no talent to say “there’s no way that could have happened”.  No one needs to hear that John Henry couldn’t possibly outperform a railroad spike driving machine in a competition, or that there were 7000 Greeks to include the 300 Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae, or any of your other gee whiz useful trivia here.  A good story is going to have some embellishment to it, because reality is boring: it’s why we are striving to transform ourselves into something DIFFERENT from our own reality.  It’s why we are so eager to share our stories and hear the stories of others: because we strive to share and learn as much as we can in order to have the existence we feel is our birthright, through our effort and intensity.

 

Gather around the fire and share some stories, and listen to the stories of others.  Don’t listen with the intent to disprove, but to understand.  To understand WHY the storyteller is telling the story, and what lessons the story holds.  And, in turn, you may one day be the subject of a story.