This time of year has a way of making us pause.

Not to count.
Not to measure.
But to notice.

To look back not just at what we accomplished, but at what shaped us. What stayed with us. What we’re still carrying as we step forward.

The longer I’ve been in education, the more I’ve come to believe that the most important learning does not live in outcomes or reports. It lives in moments. In people. In the quiet shifts that do not announce themselves but matter deeply all the same.

I recently came across a social media post by @the.mindfuljournal that says: If you’re reviewing your year, let this be what you measure… pay attention to the fears you faced, the connections you nurtured, the patience you held while growing, the moments you chose courage over fear.

That feels right. Not just for life, but for education.

Because teaching and leading are not just professional acts. They are deeply human ones.

As I come to the end of this year, I want to share five things I’m learning as it comes to a close.

1. Confidence isn’t certainty. It’s comfort with failure.

Recently, I listened to an episode of Codie Sanchez’s The Big Deal Podcast featuring Mark Manson, and his definition of confidence stayed with me. It was one of the most honest and human descriptions I have heard.

“Confidence isn’t about believing you’re going to achieve success. It’s a comfort with failure. It’s knowing that you’re going to be okay if it doesn’t turn out okay.”

Teaching and leading ask us to learn in public.

Lessons do not always land.
Conversations feel messy before they feel productive.
Priorities need revisiting.

And still, educators and leaders return the next day, reflecting, adjusting, and trying again.

The educators and leaders I admire most are not the ones who avoid missteps. They understand that learning, real learning, rarely arrives neatly wrapped and tied with a beautiful bow. They continue forward with curiosity and reflection.

2. Caring deeply isn’t the problem. Caring about everything can be heavy.

We care because students matter. Because teachers matter. Because relationships are at the heart of the work.

At the same time, trying to hold every opinion, reaction, and expectation can quietly pull us in too many directions.

This year reminded me how grounding clarity can be. When we stay anchored in learning and people, we do not care less. We care more thoughtfully. And that helps us sustain ourselves and one another in this work.

3. Depth matters more than speed.

In a world that keeps asking us to move faster, this year reminded me that humans do not grow on a timeline.

Ryan Holiday recently wrote a post titled These Are My Reading Rules for 2026 about what it really means to learn from books. He reminds us that simply moving through pages is not the point. What matters is how deeply we engage with what we read. He writes,

“It is not enough that you read. You have to read well… your efforts must aim at improving the mind.”

Ryan is writing about books, but the truth applies just as powerfully to education.

Classrooms are not built for speed.
Coaching conversations are not meant to be rushed.
Professional learning does not happen all at once.

Students need time to build trust.
Teachers need time to try, reflect, and revisit.
Leaders need time to listen before deciding.

Sometimes slowing down is what makes learning possible.

4. Grace is not optional. It’s foundational.

Grace for the teacher trying something new.
Grace for the student whose behavior is telling a story we haven’t fully heard yet.
Grace for ourselves when learning takes longer than we expected.

Grace doesn’t lower expectations. It creates the conditions where people feel safe enough to take risks. And without risk, there is no real learning.

That’s not a strategy. It’s human nature.

5. Learning leaves a legacy, even when we do not see it.

This year reminded me that learning is not just personal. It is relational. It moves and grows outward in ways we do not always get to witness.

As I wrote in my book, The Leader Inside:

“Your actions create a collection of stories that can positively impact others. The people who cross your path could take a piece of you with them that is special. Your impact and influence can be infinite.”

That feels like the truest definition of learning there is.

What I’m Carrying Forward

As this year comes to a close, and I take a short break from writing but not reflecting, I find myself grateful.

Grateful for the people who have walked alongside me in the past and shaped the way I see this work.
Grateful for the colleagues, students, and communities I learn with now.
Grateful even for the people I have not yet met, who will challenge, stretch, and teach me in ways I cannot yet imagine.

I’m noticing the courage it took to keep going.
The relationships I have cultivated that deepened over time.
The moments that reminded me why this work matters.

As I step into what comes next, this is what I’m carrying with me.

Learning is not something we finish. 

We live it, together.