Every time I deep clean, I find it again.
I have a small ziplock bag filled with buttons. Not cute, crafty buttons. Not Pinterest-worthy buttons. These are the random extras—the ones that come hidden inside the lining of a suit jacket or safety pinned to the tag of a new blouse—the “just in case” buttons.
You know. Just in case you lose one. Just in case something falls off. In case you need to put yourself back together again.
Here’s the thing, though: I have never replaced a button, nor do I even own half those suits anymore. The other outfits I haven’t worn in years. And yet—I still have the buttons.
Why?
I’ve been carrying around a mini museum of past seasons, stitched into a plastic pouch I never meant to keep.
They’re all different sizes, colors,and textures. It’s distinct but not connected.
I look at them and genuinely try to remember what the outfit was; when did I wear it? Where did I buy it from? Is there a strong memory? Much like the pieces of ourselves we collect over time.
At one point, I thought, “Maybe I’ll make an art project out of these.”
But let’s be real—crafts are not my ministry.
So they sit. Every time I clean, I find them. Every time I see them, I reflect, I examine, I consider throwing them away. Then, I keep them.
I had to make a connection to Emotions and Character as the SOUL of Leadership. So I asked myself: Why is it so hard to let go of what no longer fits us? And, of course, here’s where it loops right back to leadership—because doesn’t it always?
We all have a button bag.
Not literal, but emotional.
Not filled with buttons but with feelings, patterns, habits, and stories that once held us together. They are still part of our identity development story. We carry:
that sharp tone we picked up in a season of stress
that avoidant habit we learned when feedback meant conflict
that belief that “if I don’t do it, it won’t get done.”
They don’t match our leadership now, but we keep them—just in case.
Just in case we need to armor up.
Just in case someone questions us.
Just in case we fall apart and need to be stitched back together.
But you’ll—those buttons? They’re not saving us. They’re weighing us down.
Leadership isn’t about holding onto every piece of who you’ve ever been.
It’s about knowing which pieces still serve you—and which ones no longer fit your mission.
So maybe it’s time to unzip the metaphorical Ziploc baggie, pour it all out, and ask:
What am I still carrying that no longer connects to who I am or how I lead?
Which habits helped me survive but now keep me small?
What am I willing to release so I can lead with more integrity, more clarity, more soul?
Because emotions are not liabilities—they are intel. (Check out the Sputchik Wheel by Six Seconds!)
And character is not about being perfect—it’s about being genuine, honest, and aligned.
Maybe I’ll never make art out of that bag of buttons. But I don’t have to.
Perhaps the real work—the soulful leadership work—is recognizing that I’ve outgrown some things.
And that’s okay.
Because every time we decide what to keep and what to let go, we lead ourselves—and others—with more courage, more grace, and more humanity.
And you better believe that’s the kind of leadership I’m here for.
