Photo taken in Alcazaba, Malaga
Hero from Zero
While they are infamously known for carrying cliché after cliché, I cannot deny how much I enjoy them. To this day, I still love a classic superhero movie.
I wasn’t exactly the kid running around in a Wonder Woman costume, nor the type collecting action figures worth a fortune today. But somehow, my younger self understood the appeal.
I couldn’t say what it was that got me entranced, eyes glued to the screen with every scene. Was it the invigorating music and sound effects I liked so much?
Was it the iconic action-packed fighting sequences keeping me engaged? Who knows. Just those two features alone are enough to stir a rush of wavering adrenaline in anyone, regardless of their age.
But despite the typical elements some deem overused and lacking nuance, I still find several things worth appreciating about them. Of course, we all love a good epic battle scene—the one we’ve all been waiting for.
How could we not, when every beat of the story leads up to this one special moment in which our hero finally makes a comeback and triumphs over all? Yet as exciting as those climactic fights can be, they aren’t the parts I enjoy the most.
Maybe as a kid, I would say the opposite. Perhaps this is one of those things that change with age, the kind of nuances in taste we develop. Because now, I can’t help but feel otherwise.
What resonates with me most about these kinds of films isn’t something I’d call grandiose or flashy in any way. Instead, they appear quite ordinary, where nothing particularly special happens, but still noteworthy all the same.
I’m talking about the portion of the movie when the hero answers the call to show up and train with arduous effort, endlessly breaking a sweat to improve each and every day. It’s quite easy to overlook these parts, especially when such a sequence fails to last more than two minutes overall.
But I can’t help but find them inspiring. Sometimes I even get teary-eyed knowing that only moments prior to this, we tend to see the opposite: a character so lost, feeling so small and directionless, and bearing zero semblance to the so-called hero.
Our Form of Kryptonite
I know it’s strange that anyone would get so emotional about a character rigorously training. But the truth is, it reminds me of an important rite of passage. I’m talking about the Commitment Stage. It’s the time in your life when you finally understand what matters most to you, the values you stand by, and the kind of person you want to be.
It’s a time that starts with a great deal of introspection, healing, and preparation as you get ready for a long stretch of meaningful work. No longer in pursuit of a wide breadth of different experiences, you begin to prioritize the value of depth—in connections, in hobbies, in your work, and in all of the ways you choose to spend your time.
Just like the broken man putting in the hours to become the superhero we know and love, or an apprentice of any field practicing to become a master, the point is that you are in the process of change. Instead of sleepwalking aimlessly throughout your day, you are filled with self-direction and purpose.
Because the Commitment stage is a journey of transformation. I think that’s why I feel so many things when I watch those seemingly mundane training scenes.
Some might simply see an aspiring martial artist seeking to build muscle and physical strength. But more than what we expect from idolized comic figures or athletes, I see how their challenges relate to real life and all people in general.
Sure, we may not have evil villains with superpowers to deal with, but we definitely have our own inner demons. I’m talking about the list of things that represent our own form of kryptonite—the unhealthy habits that drain our energy, the negative self-talk that shatters our confidence, the toxic connections we keep, and so much more.
That’s why I can’t help but appreciate the priming phase in a superhero movie. To me, it resembles a metaphor of choosing change in ourselves, both inside and out; an empowering act reminding us all just how possible it is for any one of us to rise above.
In Mastery, Robert Greene writes:
“In the process, you will transform yourself from someone who is important and scattered into someone who is disciplined and focused, with a mind that can handle complexity. In the end, you will master yourself and all of your weaknesses.”
Making Things Right
I think what makes those transitioning movie scenes so special is that you understand just how far along they’ve come. The contrast between where they were and where they are now comes together like night and day.
Maybe they were chasing after the wrong thing before realizing what they truly wanted. Maybe they were landing themselves in sticky situations, unconsciously getting in their own way whenever they were so close to following their instincts.
In a lot of films, especially in the beginning, the main character lacks proper skill, discipline, and awareness when battling it out with their first opponent. Without any prior fighting experience, their weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exposed.
They are beaten to a pulp so badly; it’s difficult to even watch. Yet as cringeworthy as these moments can be, they are essential to their growth and understanding.
For without the shameful blows and wounds, they wouldn’t know where their shortcomings lie. Without their many falls and misses, they couldn’t figure out their areas of improvement.
As hard as it is to accept, the pain serves a purpose. Without it, there could be no change.
This brings me back to the Commitment Stage because I’ve come to understand that in order to even enter this chapter of your life, something needs to happen first. A form of crisis needs to take place in which the only way out is transformation itself.
You enter your lowest point where any denial of your current situation is no longer possible. The truth is clear, including the fact that your repetitive choices are no longer serving you.
It’s a lot easier to take things out on life for seemingly beating you down to this degree, refusing to accept that any actions or inactions on your part led to your own demise. But when all is said and done, sooner or later, the vices have to go, and all you can do is fight; fight for your life and finally make things right.
In The Living Wisdom of Socrates, Mark Forstater writes:
“Vice is possible to find in abundance with ease; for the way to it is smooth and lies very near. But before the temple of virtue the immortal gods have placed effort, and the way to it is long and steep, and the beginning is rough; but when the traveler has arrived at the summit, it then becomes easy, however difficult it was at first.”
Honest Expression
Another reason I love seeing those beloved iconic heroes work is that they help you appreciate their outcome in the end. As “action figures,” they begin to personify this label more and more, taking deliberate action to own their responsibility and newfound purpose.
It’s inspiring to watch this progression because you get to see how all of their hard work pays off. No effort is wasted, for every ounce leads to the kind of person they ultimately choose to become.
This makes it meaningful because they didn’t merely receive their title—they had to put in the work to fully own it. This leads them to self-actualize and maximize their potential, achieving their objective with positive results—the fruits of their labor that they rightfully earned and deserve.
Again, this gets me thinking about the Commitment Stage, as it serves as a parallel to what this phase in life is all about. After going inward, the next process involves redesigning your new lifestyle according to your goals and aspirations.
In doing so, you begin to live with intention, and when everything you do is driven with meaning, something natural emerges within you in response: enthusiasm. This is the kind of energy that brings joy, creativity, and focus to your vision; the kind that keeps you grounded with commitment and agency as your entire life gradually shifts into one that is an honest expression of you.
In You Are a Badass, Jen Sincero writes:
“When you live your life doing the things that turn you on, that you’re good at, that brings you joy, that makes you shove stuff in people’s faces and scream, ‘Check this out!!!’ You walk around so lit up that you shoot sunbeams out of your eyeballs. Which automatically lights up the world around you. Which is precisely why you are here: to shine that big-ass ball of fire into this world of ours. A world that literally depends upon light to survive.”
Turning Things Around
Maybe our commitment toward meaning and purpose doesn’t exactly lead us to a life dedicated to protecting our city with supernatural abilities. Maybe it will never involve sweeping the streets in a Batmobile or launching above the skies while wearing a shiny, scarlet iron suit.
Nevertheless, what it does lead to is a lasting foundation for building inner strength, courage, and resourcefulness. While superheroes rely on the perfect uniform, weapon, and gadgets to achieve their goals, we regular folks get to choose specific tools of our own that will guarantee our success; tools like habits, values, and systems that help us stay on track.
Never could I have understood this more without first grappling with the difficult experience of managing life without them. Because it’s hard to find the right solution, especially when you don’t even understand what the problem is in the first place.
This is where I was years ago, living in both hopelessness and overwhelm, too lazy and impatient to go inward and do the work I knew would be good for me. Of course, doing nothing is a choice in itself, bringing about consequences to my own health—mentally, emotionally, and physically.
To this day, I cannot recall why I was stubbornly refusing to help myself. For at the time, I was deeply depressed. I was shrinking, and I knew it.
I was stuck, but I was too scared to do anything about it. I don’t know what I was so afraid of; was it the idea of change? Or the fear of rigidity?
If it were, it would be completely ironic because while I have added more structure and order to my days, never have I felt more freedom and fulfillment. Of course, this came after years and years of showing up every day and giving it all I got; putting in the reps just like in those scenes in these silly movies I love.
Only, I wasn’t training to protect Gotham or the kingdom of Wakanda. Instead, I was putting all my blood, sweat, and tears into something real, finally answering the call that would bring about my ongoing transformation.
This didn’t exactly entail throwing on a matching ensemble of a mask, cape, and tights, but it did mean turning into the 2.0 version of myself; the start of many new and improved versions that may not qualify as your typical action figure. But I can confidently say that any one of them sure beats the former with a much greater chance of turning things around to hopefully save the day.
