Notes

Art Mini Golf Non-Fiction Productivity Technology

  • Why Freelancers Need to Rethink ‘Success’?

    There’s a moment in every freelancer’s journey when opportunity stops feeling like a blessing and starts resembling a trap. You’ve worked hard, built a portfolio, earned referrals, and now clients are reaching out to you. The inbox buzzes with potential. The calendar is packed. You’re in demand.

    And yet, despite being fully booked, you find yourself entertaining the thought: “Maybe I could squeeze in one more project.”

    It feels logical, even noble. More work means more income. More income means more security. More clients means more growth. More growth means you’re “making it,” right?

    But that’s where the illusion begins.

    Infinity Is Not a Number

    In a recent post, Seth Godin wrote, “Infinity is a feeling and a concept built on the presumption that it can never be reached.” He wasn’t talking about freelancing specifically, but his insight couldn’t be more relevant.

    Infinity is not a number – Seth Godin

    When you constantly pursue “a few more” clients, “a few more” sales, “a few more” wins—without stopping to assess your capacity—you sign up for a journey that never ends. One more becomes two more. Two more becomes five. And before long, you’re sprinting on a treadmill that only speeds up, never stops.

    This isn’t ambition. It’s anxiety in disguise.

    Numbers Game Will Never End

    Freelancing is often tied to metrics—hours worked, projects delivered, income earned. And while numbers do matter, they can quietly become tyrants. You check how many leads came in this month. How many invoices were paid. How many followers you’ve gained. You start equating growth with progress and progress with worth.

    But here’s the truth: if you let numbers define your success, your finish line will always move just a little farther away.

    What Are You Trading?

    There’s a cost to every “yes.” When you say yes to one more client, what are you saying no to?

    • Deep focus on existing projects?
    • Quality time with loved ones?
    • Quiet evenings to recharge?
    • Your own creative pursuits that don’t pay but bring joy?

    Also Read: There’s No Such Thing as Free Lunch

    Overextending yourself can silently erode the very reasons you chose freelancing in the first place—flexibility, freedom, meaningful work.

    We live in a culture that glorifies hustle. But relentless hustle without boundaries doesn’t make you successful. It makes you replaceable. When you’re constantly on the edge of burnout, you don’t create your best work—you just survive the day.

    Sustainable Success vs. Infinite Growth

    What if you redefined success, not by how much you can accumulate, but by how deeply you can serve? What if you measured growth by the quality of your work, the strength of your relationships, and your sense of fulfillment?

    There’s nothing wrong with wanting to grow. But growth should have roots, not just reach. The goal isn’t to pile more on your plate—it’s to nourish what’s already there.

    Make Space, Not Just Money

    If the journey itself is sustaining you, as Seth Godin says, then great. Let it continue. But don’t lose sight of the fact that the journey is the destination. You don’t need to keep adding clients to prove your worth.

    Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is protect your time, say no with grace, and honor the work you’ve already committed to.

    More isn’t always better. Sometimes, more is just louder. And sometimes, enough is truly enough.

    Ask yourself: Are you chasing growth, or are you chasing infinity? One brings you closer to fulfillment. The other never arrives.

  • The Quiet Forest

    The news broke at dawn.

    Pope Francis had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

    The world paused—for a moment. Some wept, some prayed, many scrolled. Headlines rolled in, tributes poured out. For a few hours, the world felt quieter, like something sacred had just ended.

    But in a small town tucked into the hills of Argentina, far from the Vatican walls, an old man sat on his porch, holding a worn-out letter in his hand. It was from twenty-three years ago, signed in blue ink: “With prayers for your family, Jorge Mario Bergoglio.”

    He had never met the man in person. But back then, when his daughter was dying, and the doctors had stopped returning calls, a friend had suggested writing to the archbishop in Buenos Aires. He hadn’t expected a reply. But he got one. A letter. Then a call. Then a priest at the hospital, sitting with them every day until the end.

    No photos, no announcements. Just presence. Quiet presence.

    Now, the man looked out over the trees that lined his backyard. They’d been saplings once. He remembered planting them with his grandchildren after the funeral. They were grown now, bending slightly in the morning wind.

    He took a breath and smiled.

    In Rome, cardinals were preparing their statements. In cities around the world, candles were being lit. But in this little town, it was just the trees, the wind, and the memory of a man who once said:

    “A tree that falls makes more noise than a forest that grows.”

    He had said it not in a grand sermon, but in a quiet gathering of young people, trying to explain why kindness mattered even when no one noticed.

    The tree had fallen. The world had heard the sound.

    But the forest—the forest he planted in hearts, in gestures, in letters and prayers and silences—was still growing.

    And would keep growing, long after the noise faded.