What CREED do you live by? (Part 1)

What Creed Do You Live By?

When the alarm screams at 4:00 AM and you’re bone-tired, what drives you to swing your legs over the bed and lace up your shoes? When the world is silent, or buzzing, and no one is watching, who are you then? In the battlefield and arena of life—whether you’re in the gym, donning your uniform, in the field, or behind a desk this is the question that cuts through the silence and the noise:

What creed do you live by?

This isn’t just some rah-rah bullshit motivational speech. It’s not a poster with an eagle or alpha/omega on it. It’s a fucking gut-check. A creed is a set of guiding principles you refuse to compromise on. It’s not just what you believe—it’s what you do. When your back’s against the wall, when the shit has hit the fan, your creed is what decides whether you fold… or fight.

In the military, a creed isn’t optional—it’s sacred. The Rifleman’s Creed from the Marines, The Ranger Creed. The SEAL Ethos. These aren’t just fancy mission statements. They’re lifelines in chaos, moral compasses in darkest, deepest of waters. A leader, a warrior, who doesn’t live by a code is like a ship without a rudder adrift and dangerous. Not only to themselves, but in their ability to serve throughout their life… to become more than a shell of broken words.

As a leader of any kind, your family, your team, your people, don’t just follow your words—If they respect you, they follow your habits. They follow how you handle pressure, how you get back up from falling, or being knocked down, how you treat others when it’s inconvenient for you. If you don’t have a creed, these personal laws, you’re unpredictable. You become reactive instead of proactive. And when adversity, pain, suffering hits—and they always does—there’s nothing holding you steadfast and true to anything.

A strong leader and warrior’s creed answers the question, “What will I never compromise on, no matter the cost?” And here’s the truth: if you haven’t answered that yet, life will test you, knock you down, and your ego will make you a victim until you do.

Our brains crave clarity, direction, and feeds on discipline, especially in chaos. That’s where a creed comes in. It’s your mental “flex”… your survival amidst the DeepWater… your armor. When fatigue and pain sets in and your willpower slips gears, a clear code helps you override that devil’s whisper of weakness. The code tells your mind, “We don’t fucking break. Not today.”

Psychologists call this “self-concordant goals”—meaning the more your actions align with your core values, the happier and more resilient you are, in all that you do. A creed is that alignment in action. It’s not just about being tough and having grit—it’s about being right with yourself.

Those who live consistently by a strong foundation and internal code, report greater self-esteem, less anxiety, and higher achievement in everything they do. They don’t waste their time in internal battles, emotional or psychological—they already know their answer - The code, the creed.

Character, which at the end of the day, is all we have, and the abundance or lack of, will stare back at you from the mirror… Character is forged in the dark, cold, DeepWater. It's what you do when the phone camera, the watchful eyes are off, turned away, and no one’s applauding your podium stance. When the work deadline’s blown, when your body screams in pain, and when your goals feel farther away than ever —that’s when your creed shows up, blows up, or shuts down.

You said “I’ll train five days a week”. You said “I’ll never lie to your team” (And in this scenario… your “team” is you.. You promised yourself you’d stay sober, stay right fucking here, and present, stay real. And now? It’s cold. You’re cold. You’re hurting, tired. No one would blame you for quitting, walking away… But there’s one person who’ll always know if you kept your word: you.

And that voice inside you… your warrior’s conscience, your code—it doesn’t lie, FUCKING EVER. It remembers every broken promise, failed, weak attempt, and twist you created to avoid the real work and accountability.

Everyone’s creed is tested in the fire, the DeepWater, the trenches. You don’t build honor, integrity, legacy through service, by taking the easy route.

Pain is the currency of purpose.

The question is: are you willing to pay it?

Suffering strips away, chips, tears away the uneeded weight, anything non essential. When you're knee-deep, fuck, about too fully go under—when the bar feels like it’s going to crush you, the workload is too fucking insane, the pain too deep—you find out if your creed is real or just nice-sounding words. that you’ve been listening to through some bullshit filter.

There’s no shortcut. Whether you’re training for an endurance event, combat sports, a new PR, fighting addiction, building a business, or raising a family—pain and it’s close friend suffering will knock on your door. Your creed decides whether you treat them as house guests… or a master.

We all will answer the door… have the strength in your creed to ask the houseguests to leave!