As we eagerly step into the exciting unknown of 2026, it’s worth taking a moment to reflect on the old saying that “the greatest misfortune in life is growing old too soon and gaining wisdom too late.” Growing old is a privilege that many are denied.
Now, please understand this point: there is a certain biting truth to that lament. It is as sharp as the crisp chill of a January breeze that makes you reconsider your decision to wear flip-flops in the middle of winter. Every day we are alive, we break our streak of consecutive days lived.
Youth, fueled by relentless passion and reckless energy, often fades faster than cheap fireworks on New Year’s Eve. It leaves behind little more than a faint scent of smoke and a vague feeling of regret. Will Rogers once said, “Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of experience comes from bad judgment.”
We all have regrets. If you don’t, then you are not being honest with yourself. For some of us, we should be thankful that not everyone was armed with a cell phone and social media in the 1970s and ’80s, when we were in school.
Take a moment to appreciate the small things that make life precious. Embrace each new day, harness your strength to move forward, and seize the opportunities to serve and love others. Even in tough times, remember to cherish every moment. Gratitude is the spark that transforms life into something extraordinary.
Here’s a thought that I find intriguing: what if wisdom isn’t just a flower that blooms late in life, but rather a seed planted in the fertile soil of our youth? Sometimes, we might mistakenly pull it out, confusing it for weeds instead of recognizing it as our precious crop.
Consider the brilliant minds who dared to explore uncharted territories. Consider Albert Einstein, that iconoclastic genius, experimenting with the complexities of relativity in his twenties while society still believed that horses were the best way to get around. Or think of Marie Curie, bravely facing poverty and prejudice, her curiosity shining brighter than the radium she passionately studied.
Brooke Goins, then a 21-year-old teacher at Jacksboro Elementary School, shared a Facebook post about how she and her fellow teachers collected money to provide food for a hungry student here in Tennessee. The post went viral, leading the school to establish a food pantry for all students. Teachers regularly do this without fanfare or desire for recognition.
These pioneers didn’t stay passive, waiting for wisdom to come dressed in a tuxedo and offering them a cocktail. Instead, they wrestled with it amid the beautiful chaos of life, turning tragedy into a powerful message: brevity truly is the soul of genius, and you don’t need a doctoral degree to understand that profoundtruth.
Here’s the real kicker: the actual cruelty of life isn’t just time slipping away on us with a sly grin, but rather our own tendency to waste the years in between, trapped in the echoing halls of “someday.”
So, as we welcome this new year, I ask you: what’s that one bold spark from your youth that you would love to reignite today, before the ticking clock grows louder than a New Year’s Eve countdown?
Maybe it’s that wild ambition you stored away for “better times,” or perhaps it’s the spontaneous road trip you always dreamed of but never actually took. Maybe you want to start a food pantry, write a book, or run for political office. This is the year—no time to waste.
In the spirit of fresh beginnings and New Year’s resolutions, let’s not allow wisdom to slip through our fingers like confetti on the first of January. Instead, let’s seize it, shake it up, and dance with it in our living rooms as if no one is watching.
After all, if the year 2026 imparts any wisdom upon us, it’s that life is far too precious to play it safe. So go ahead—ignite that fire within you and let the sparks soar high!
JC Bowman is the executive director of Professional Educators of Tennessee.
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