Ugly Old Belt

I have a belt.

It’s an old brown belt. It’s been with me a long time and it’s held my trousers through some pretty tough times. Near the pointy end there’s an elongated hole and a ridge across it where the leathers been distressed and deformed under prolonged pressure.

Yesterday I drilled another set of holes in my trusty old belt. Now, in addition to one tortured hole and four progressively less abused holes, there are seven new holes in my trust old belt. Two are extra; to be used at a future date. Some might call it optimism. I call it planning ahead.  

Michelle hates my old brown belt.

Why don’t you buy a new belt? That belt looks ridiculous.  Why you insist upon hanging on to that ugly old belt?

If Michelle tossed every ridiculous old thing in her life, I’d be headed to the curb right now. I keep the belt because it’s a tangible reminder of where I’ve been, where I’m going, and where I stand right now. No other single item in my life serves as such a graphic marker of my progress.   

Someday the old brown belt will end up in the bin. For now, the old brown belt rides with me.

One more thing: if you measure back from where I was to where I am; it’s a journey of nine inches!