New Year Reflection: When a Quarter Century Ends
- Adam Torres
- Jan 1
- 4 min read
It’s New Year’s Day, 2026.
This New Year reflection comes at the close of a quarter century, and it’s made me think differently about time, perspective, and what actually matters.
I woke up this morning and—if you know me—you probably won’t be surprised by how I started my day. I started it the same way I usually do: with podcast interviews.
One of them was with someone tackling a massive problem—pensions, on a global scale. He literally helps set up pension systems for countries. Real work, real impact, helping a lot of people around the world.
The other interview was with a filmmaker who’s just releasing a new film. That conversation was part of another series we’re working on, and they were talking about the premiere and what’s coming next.
So it was a full morning. But it also felt fitting.
Because I’ve always liked New Year’s.
I’ve never really been much of a birthday person, but New Year’s has always felt different to me. I like the optimism. The hope. The idea that you get a clean slate. A redo. A chance to start fresh.
I also like asking people if they’re making resolutions—and if so, what they are. I’m genuinely curious.
I know some people don’t like resolutions. They’ll say things like, “I tried that before and it didn’t work,” or “I don’t need a calendar change to work on my goals.” Others just don’t see any significance in it at all.
But I do think there’s an opportunity there.
A real one.
New Year’s can act as a pattern disruption—a break in the normal rhythm of day-to-day life. And this year, moving from 2025 to 2026, felt different for me.
Because if you zoom out far enough, this isn’t just another year.
It’s the close of a quarter century.
Twenty-five years.
In the U.S., we’re obsessed with quarters. Quarterly earnings. Quarterly results. Quarterly goals. When I was in finance, that’s how we looked at everything. You look at charts, you track performance, you measure progress in three-month increments.
Zoom out a little, and you look at years.
But zoom out even more—and think about the last twenty-five years—and perspective changes.
For me, it’s still a little wild to say out loud, but I graduated high school in the year 2000. When this last quarter century started, I was just getting out of high school.
And now I’m sitting here on New Year’s Day, 2026, thinking about what the next twenty-five years might look like.
What I want them to look like.
God willing, if I’m around for the next quarter century, what kind of life am I building toward?
And when you think in those terms, you also realize something else—some people you love won’t be there for the entire journey. Some friends won’t make it through the whole arc. Some people near and dear to you won’t be there for all of it.
That realization changes things.
It changes how you think about time. About relationships. About who you want around you. About how you want to live.
And not just who you want with you—but what you want to be doing.
What activities do you want in your life for the next twenty-five years?What habits? What routines?
What are you spending time on right now that’s actually worth carrying forward?
And what’s just a distraction?
The truth is, we only get so much time on this planet. Thinking about how we spend it matters—especially if we want to make the most of it, or make whatever impact we’re meant to make.
There’s one other thing I’ve noticed around this time of year, and I don’t know if it’s just my social media feed or the algorithm doing what algorithms do—but I see a lot of content that I’m not a fan of.
It’s the stuff that mocks New Year’s resolutions.
The stats. The jokes. The idea that people will quit by day two, or day five, or day seven. There’s even a term floating around now—“resolutioners”—basically making fun of the whole concept.
And I think there’s real harm in giving attention to that attitude.
Because the underlying message is: Why try? You’re going to fail anyway.
That’s dangerous.
None of us are perfect. Of course we’re going to fall short sometimes. Of course we’re going to make commitments and miss the mark.
But optimism—real optimism—is part of what allows progress to happen at all.
If we throw in the towel before we even try, creativity suffers. Productivity suffers. Growth slows down. And eventually, that mindset holds us back.
So I’d encourage people to give themselves a little more grace.
Make your resolutions.
And if you fall off the horse, get back on.
Try again.
Keep trying.
And if you’re someone who says, “I don’t make resolutions,” I’m not judging that. But I would encourage you to examine where that came from.
Did you never make resolutions? Even as a kid? Or was there a moment where you stopped believing they mattered?
How old were you when you decided that this way of trying wasn’t for you?
And why?
Because if you trace it back far enough, you might find something there. Maybe a pattern you picked up that doesn’t actually need to define how you move forward.
Or maybe you read this and think, “I don’t care, Adam. Resolutions aren’t my thing.”
Fair enough.
But even then, I’d still encourage you to zoom out.
Think long and hard about where you are, how you’re spending your time, and what you want the next stretch of your life to look like.
A quarter century just ended.
Another one just opened.
And whether you love resolutions or hate them, this feels like a good moment to pause and ask:
What do I want the next twenty-five years to look like?
And who do I want on that journey with me?
Comments