People say, 'Where do you get your strength from?' Well, where

“People say, ‘Where do you get your strength from?’ Well, where does an ape get his strength from? They are 20 times stronger than humans, and they don’t rely on a meat-based diet. They eat plants all day long. It’s a myth that you need meat for strength.” — thus spoke David Haye, warrior of the modern arena, a man who once conquered with his fists and later with his wisdom. His words are not a boast, but a challenge — a call to awaken from the myths of old habit and to recognize the true source of strength: not the flesh of beasts, but the power born of discipline, balance, and harmony with nature.

The question — “Where do you get your strength from?” — is one humanity has asked since the dawn of time. For we have always sought power outside ourselves, in weapons, in wealth, in consumption. Yet Haye turns our gaze inward, toward the quiet, enduring force that lives in all creatures, great and small. The ape, noble and wild, eats only of the earth, yet possesses the might to move trees, to defend its tribe, to reign in the forest without fear. In this, it teaches man a forgotten truth: that strength is not stolen from others, but cultivated within oneself.

For centuries, people have believed that meat is the food of warriors, that to consume muscle is to inherit its power. Kings feasted on flesh to proclaim dominion; hunters ate the heart of the beast to claim its courage. Yet history whispers another story — that many of the strongest, most enduring creatures of this earth are plant eaters: the elephant, the ox, the horse, and the ape. Their might comes not from conquest, but from nourishment rooted in life, not death. The myth of meat endures not because it is true, but because it flatters the human ego — it allows us to believe that power must come through domination.

Haye’s words remind us that the plant-based path is not weakness, but wisdom. To eat of the earth is to live in alignment with the rhythm of creation, to draw energy from the sun through the leaves that capture it. The plants we eat are the first receivers of light; they transform it into life itself. When we eat them, we partake of that same vitality. Thus, the strength that Haye speaks of is not just physical; it is elemental — drawn directly from the pulse of the living world.

There is an echo of this truth in the story of Pythagoras, the ancient philosopher who refused to eat meat. He taught that consuming animals clouded the mind and chained the soul to violence. His followers, known for their clarity and peace, lived long and strong, drawing their sustenance from grains, fruits, and roots. Their bodies were lean, but their will was unshakable. They believed, as Haye does, that true power is calm — the power of control, not of consumption.

The origin of Haye’s insight lies not in mysticism, but in experience. As a world champion boxer, he tested his strength on the hardest stage, against men of equal fire. Yet even after renouncing meat, his power did not wane — it grew purer, more refined. His life became the evidence that strength of body follows strength of purpose. He stands as a testament to a new understanding of health: that vitality comes not from excess, but from connection — to the earth, to one’s body, to the quiet wisdom that has always sustained life.

Let this be your lesson, O seeker of strength: question what you are told, and listen instead to the voice of truth that lives in nature. Do not mistake bulk for power, nor violence for vitality. Eat with reverence, not indulgence; train with patience, not pride. Feed your body with life-giving foods, and your mind with thoughts of compassion and clarity. For the body that is nourished by kindness becomes a vessel of enduring strength, while the one fed on cruelty becomes hollow, quick to tire and fade.

So remember the wisdom of David Haye, and the might of the ape: that the greatest power is born from peace, and the truest nourishment is found not in the flesh of another, but in the living gifts of the earth. Live as they do — rooted, aware, and strong — and your strength shall not only endure but uplift, carrying both body and spirit toward harmony with all that breathes.