Once upon a time, a woman decided to take part in an aikido class. After the instructors had introduced themselves, she realized she was standing next to the dojo founder’s wife. The woman noticed the wife’s black belt, indicating she had attained the highest degree in aikido. Confused, the woman leaned over and asked: “Excuse me, but if you’ve already gotten your black belt, why do you still attend classes?” With a smile, the wife leaned back in her direction and said: “Because a black belt isn’t a gold medal for finishing a marathon. It’s a license to go on learning for as long as you live.”
I don’t know whether this story happened 40, 50, or 60 years ago, but I do know the dojo founder’s wife: Annie Leonard lived and breathed what her husband George described as Mastery. “A black belt is only one more step along an endless path,” she said.
What others might take as a sign to drop the mic and move on, masters see as a new door opening: Now that you’re officially licensed in the basics, you can keep getting better, experiment with form, and penetrate the mystery of things. Will you pioneer new techniques no one has thought of before? Will you find global fame and recognition for your work? Who knows, but from here on out, you’ll forever have what most people never attain: a safe, comfortable space to be in — your lifelong practice.
The best part of dedication is not the prize you may or may not attain at the end. It’s the rituals, connections, and habits of body and spirit you form along the way.