I don't have any superstitions, but what I always travel with is

The words of Natalie Coughlin — “I don’t have any superstitions, but what I always travel with is my pillow and my coffee.” — though spoken with simplicity, carry within them a wisdom as ancient as the journeys of humankind. In them, we see a truth about the balance between body and spirit: that greatness does not come from charms or omens, but from cultivating the small rituals that give steadiness and strength. Where others may depend on the uncertain power of fate, she chooses the grounding comfort of her own chosen anchors.

An open road, a distant shore, a contest yet to be faced — in all these, the heart may tremble with uncertainty. Many through the centuries have carried tokens, amulets, or superstitions to protect them from the unknown. Yet the path of wisdom teaches that true security lies not in objects of fear, but in that which strengthens the self. The pillow represents rest, the renewal of the body; the coffee represents energy, the fire of awakening. Together they symbolize balance: rest and vigor, calmness and fire. And in this balance lies the secret of enduring strength.

History reminds us of this same principle. Consider the voyages of the great explorer Ernest Shackleton, who led his men through the icy grip of Antarctica. Though surrounded by desolation, Shackleton ensured that his men kept small comforts alive: hot drinks, songs, shared routines. These were not mere luxuries, but lifelines of the spirit. They steadied the mind against despair. Just as Natalie Coughlin carries her pillow and her coffee, so too did Shackleton carry the rituals that reminded his crew of life, warmth, and hope amidst the frozen abyss. It was this, as much as his leadership, that preserved them.

The meaning is clear: greatness is built not only upon mighty deeds, but upon the quiet constancy of simple practices. The Olympian who dives into the waters, the traveler who crosses strange lands, the worker who faces a long day — all are sustained not by superstitions, but by chosen habits that restore them. In the steadiness of these small rituals, the soul finds strength for the larger battles.

And yet, there is a deeper lesson. To carry one’s pillow and coffee is to say, “I know what sustains me, and I will not leave it behind.” It is a declaration of self-knowledge, of fidelity to one’s own needs. Too often do we forget ourselves in the rush of duty or ambition, abandoning rest, nourishment, or care. But one who knows what keeps them whole, and who guards it as a sacred practice, walks with greater power than the one who relies only on chance.

Thus, the teaching is this: abandon fear, abandon hollow superstitions, and instead embrace the rituals that give you strength. Carry with you whatever serves your body and soul — perhaps it is a prayer, perhaps a journal, perhaps music, or perhaps, like Coughlin, the faithful pairing of pillow and coffee. These are not trivial; they are anchors in the storm. They are reminders that you are not at the mercy of fate, but can prepare yourself with wisdom and care.

In your own life, establish such sacred tokens. Guard your rest, for without it you falter. Guard your fire, for without it you grow weary. Choose those things, however simple, that remind you of balance and bring you peace. Carry them with you into the arenas of life — whether they be pools of competition, offices of labor, or the long roads of travel. In this way, you will find resilience not in charms or fears, but in the steady rhythm of self-knowledge and preparation.

So remember, child of tomorrow: let go of empty superstitions, and hold fast to the rituals that truly strengthen you. Carry your pillow for rest, your coffee for fire, or their equivalent in your own journey. For in honoring what sustains you, you will not be tossed about by chance, but will walk with steadiness, with strength, and with the quiet confidence of one who knows themselves.