A stupid man never learns from his mistakes.
A smart man learns from his mistakes.
A wise man learns from the mistakes of others.
We recently moved into our new home, and as part of this adventure, I’ve been assembling the yard and outdoor structures. Along the way, I’ve had a dear friend and sage mentor by my side—Ellis Taylor. Ellis has lived a lot of life and, without ever being asked, has become our informal inspector. He’s helped me with more projects than I can count.
Several weeks ago, Ellis drove up to help me build a shed for my snowblower and power tools. When we finished, it looked shiny as a new penny—solid, sturdy, and perched beautifully on the ridgeline. Later that day, Ellis called me and said, “Rich, I think you need to bolt that shed down or weigh it with a barrel of water. The winds up there will bust it to pieces.”
I chuckled. “Ellis, that shed is rock solid.”
Three days later, a huge microburst rolled through. It picked that shed up like a rag doll and scattered screws and panels all over the hillside. Embarrassed, I called Ellis and admitted, “Brother, you were right.”
The irony? Ellis had even shared a story with me once about a trampoline in his neighborhood that blew off and landed on top of a three-story home. The wisdom was there: I just didn’t listen.
It’s so much easier when we learn from the sages and wisdom of the past. Free agency gives us the chance to make our own choices, but wisdom whispers that we don’t have to make all the mistakes ourselves. And sometimes the hardest pill to swallow is that the wisdom we need might even come from those younger than us.
So here’s my reminder to myself (and maybe to you): let’s be wise enough to learn from others, humble enough to accept advice, and generous enough to pass down what we’ve learned so our children and grandchildren don’t have to learn every lesson the hard way.
—In wisdom and learning,
Rich
