Reflect on: What is the Oldest Thing You Are Wearing Today?

The Keeper of My Journey

This morning, I prepared for my usual practice. I reached for the oldest item I still wear — my Kyokushin Karate belt. Frayed at the edges from years of training, travel, and introspection, it is more than just a piece. It is more than just a piece of cloth. It holds stories of my journey. It symbolizes experiences far beyond its simple appearance. It’s become a physical chronicle of my path.

We live in a culture drunk on novelty. The latest gadget beckons from storefronts. New job titles tempt us with promises of reinvention. Tomorrow’s goals eclipse today’s quiet victories. Yet in this rush toward what’s next, we often blindly pass by what’s been beside us all along.

Sacred Threads

My belt carries stories in every thread. The edges, once sharp and defined, have softened from countless hours of movement. A small nick near the right side reminds me of that training session in Mauritius. I learned more from that tough training and perseverance than anything. As any Kyokushin practitioner knows, we never wash our belts. They absorb the essence of every training session. Years of effort are held within their fibers. Mine cradles years of persistence between its folds.

I can still picture receiving my first dan black belt decades ago. Back then, my focus was narrow: perfect that kata, strengthen that stance, increase that speed, perseverance and full contact kumite. The belt merely signaled I belonged somewhere in the hierarchy of skill.

Now it speaks differently to me.

Between Visible Victories

Some Tuesdays, rushing between presentations and strategy meetings, I’ll remind myself of it in my training bag. Suddenly I’m reminded: beneath the career milestones and professional accolades lies a deeper current of growth. It is the willingness to start again when everything feels impossible.

After a particularly brutal quarter last year, projects crumbled. Partners grew restless. I found myself unrolling my training mat at midnight. The familiar weight of my belt against my waist grounded me. It provided support in ways no executive coaching session or networking event ever does. It whispered: “Remember how many times you’ve started from scratch.”

The Invisible Work

Progress rarely announces itself with fanfare. Meaningful transformation happens in those unremarkable moments between breakdown and breakthrough. My belt has observed thousands of these quiet evolutions.

For those climbing corporate ladders, sometimes you question whether you’re even on the right building. Perhaps you also carry something that’s traveled these years alongside you? Not the status symbols that impress colleagues, but something seemingly ordinary that’s seen both your false starts and genuine triumphs.

Against the Current

The professional landscape celebrates rapid scaling and overnight success stories. But mastery—of a discipline, a career, or oneself—demands something entirely different. It requires returning, often stubbornly, to fundamentals when everyone else chases shortcuts. It means showing up consistently when motivation wanes. Starting over without drama.

Today, I wear time around my waist—not as a burden, but as hard-won testimony. A reminder that mastery isn’t something you achieve once and ceremoniously show. It’s a practice you choose daily, especially during the stretches when results seem painfully distant.

What’s the oldest object you still carry with you? I’d wager it holds wisdom no motivational bestseller can match.

Finding Your Anchor

Take five minutes today to reconnect with something you’ve carried through the years. It is an object, a habit, or a principle. Then, sit with how it’s gradually shaped your becoming. Then share your reflection with someone who needs reminding. Meaningful growth reveals itself through what endures silently beside us. It is not shown by what temporarily dazzles from a distance.