Half a Year After Quitting: My 'Slow-Paced' Freelancing Experiment
—Finding my own rhythm in an uncertain time
By a freelancer in exploration
Seeing the "less than 40 days" of work recorded in my Feishu attendance log, I couldn't help but laugh. It's been over half a year since I quit my job in May; three months have slipped by since I officially started freelancing in October; and my first project, like a toddler learning to walk, stumbled its way online in late November and is still receiving sporadic updates.
If measured by the standard "success story" script so common on social media, I'd be a cautionary tale: while others launch dozens of projects a month, I spent two months polishing just one; while others talk about efficient monetization, I'm still pondering, "how many hours of work per day actually constitutes freelancing? Yet, strangely, I feel no anxiety. Instead, I'm filled with a sense of groundedness I've never known before. Perhaps the first lesson of freelancing is learning to make peace with 'slowness.'
1. When Time Truly Became My Own, I Finally Understood 'Discipline'
Before quitting, I had countless fantasies about the freelancing life: waking up naturally, writing in coffee shops, taking spontaneous trips... Reality gave me a gentle slap on the wrist: the more time I had, the more I needed to organize it; the less external structure, the more internal discipline I required. After a few months of trial and error, I set a firm rule for myself: focus on deep work for about 4 hours each day. This number might seem unambitious, but it forces essentialism – in a limited time, I must focus on what truly matters and reject false productivity. It's like backpacking: the goal isn't to carry more, but to ensure every item you carry is useful. But the challenges run deeper. With control over my time, my wish list exploded:
- Work (naturally)
- Gaming (making up for lost time)
- Video editing (a mountain of footage calling my name)
- Parenting, outdoors, reading, practicing piano, exercise...
Every option was vying for my attention, and the act of choosing itself became the new challenge. I gradually came to understand:
Freedom isn't about 'being able to do whatever you want,' but about 'feeling at peace when you decide what not to do.'
2. Plans Can't Keep Up with Changes? Life Is Inherently About Dynamic Balance
A freelancer's schedule is perpetually penciled in with "unexpected events":
- Suddenly winning a spot in a TESTV hiking event, immediately packing my bag for the mountains.
- The family deciding on a last-minute trip.
- A sick child, personal illness, a grandfather's birthday...
life's little matters take turns on stage.
Adding it up, I've only had about 40 truly productive work days over the past two or three months. But curiously, these very 'interruptions' have made me cherish my focused moments all the more. Like farmers in an agrarian age working in harmony with the seasons, I'm learning to adapt to life's rhythm – working deeply during busy times, sowing seeds during quieter ones, without rush or agitation.
3. Abandoning 'Utilitarian Content Creation,' I Rediscovered the Joy of Writing
I once tried to follow conventional advice, attempting to write technical articles under the persona of a "senior front-end developer with ten years of experience." But each attempt felt like writing product documentation, devoid of any expressive joy. It sapped my desire to write and share, and my publishing frequency plummeted. AI can help polish prose, but it can't feel for me.
It wasn't until I completely let go of the obsession of "needing to make money from content creation" that I found relief: If the act of expression itself doesn't bring joy, it ultimately just becomes another form of labor. Now, I write again simply to record genuine thoughts and observations. Like an artist sketching en plain air, not for exhibition, but to capture a moment's light.
4. The Library, My Spiritual Charging Station
On days when I'm not in the right headspace, I take my laptop and spend the day at the library. It has the best "focus group": students cramming for exams, elderly individuals absorbed in reading, fellow developers coding away... Warm in winter, cool in summer, free to access, and filled with the scent of paper and ink.
Sitting there, I often recall the story of the ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes. When Alexander the Great asked what he could do for him, Diogenes simply replied, "Stand out of my sunlight." In this age of material abundance, we perhaps underestimate the value of free resources – sunshine in the park, museum exhibitions, the knowledge in libraries – they are the true backdrop of a fulfilling life.
Epilogue: Slow Down to See the Signposts
People ask me if I get anxious without a stable income. Occasionally, yes. But more present is a feeling of conviction: Life is not a sprint, but an orienteering race. What matters isn't speed, but knowing your destination and enjoying the scenery along the way.
The value of my first project lies more in the practice than the outcome. It helped me understand the entire process of building and launching an independent site, taught me the Nuxt framework, and validated the feasibility of a ~4-hour workday. The next project might take half the time. But even if it doesn't, that's okay.
For me, freelancing isn't an escape from the traditional workplace, but a way to reacquaint myself with life itself. Rather than frantically chasing someone else's tempo, I prefer to plant a tree in my own time zone and let it grow naturally.
As Thoreau wrote in Walden: "I wished to live deliberately... to suck out all the marrow of life." Today, I'm trying to find a different way to sink deep roots into my own existence.
Perhaps the best 'freelancing plan' is simply allowing yourself to live like a full human being.
