Ey ! 

The other night, I was washing the dishes when my wife called me upstairs. My eight-year-old came down to meet me halfway, sobbing.

And he threw himself into my arms, in tears.

I had no idea what was wrong—but I could feel, deep in my chest, that something had changed.

It wasn’t a scraped knee or a bad dream. This was something deeper. I looked over at my wife, who stood at the top of the stairs, her own eyes shining with unshed tears.

“We watched Young Sheldon,” she said softly. “THAT episode.”

I understood immediately. 

My wife had told Julian he wasn’t ready for this episode, and warned him that it would be too much. He had insisted he was. He knew what was coming, knew the story, but knowing something and feeling it—those are two very different things. 

And tonight, he felt it.

I bent down, holding him as he shook with grief. His sobs weren’t loud; they were raw, the kind that come when you realize something about the world you can’t take back. 

He wasn’t just sad. He was mourning something, maybe for the first time in his life.

I carried him upstairs, lay beside him in bed as he cried into my shoulder.

“Dad,” he whispered between shaky breaths, “I don’t want you to die.”

And just like that, I was eight years old again.

I remembered flipping through our old encyclopedia Britannica, coming across an illustration of a skeleton standing outside a grave or mausoleum, looking very lifelike.

yes I found the image after so many years! Engraving by Bernard Siegfried Albinus (anotomical study)

I was too young to fully grasp death, but my mind filled in the blanks with something terrifying—that when we died, we stayed buried, fully aware, unable to speak, trapped in darkness and silence forever.

I had run to my mother then, crying the same words Julian had just said to me: Ma, I don’t want you to die. I don’t want you and Papa to die.

And then decades marched past, its passage bearing down on me. 

I thought about all the things I hadn’t been taking care of—late nights, stress, my health which I had been neglecting. 

My son was confronting the fragility of life, and here I was ignoring it.

“I love you, Dad,” Julian murmured as his breathing slowed. “I don’t want you to ever die.”

I hugged him a little tighter.

“I love you too, Julian. Daddy’s here lang.”

And as he drifted into sleep, I lay awake, thinking about that promise—and what I needed to do to keep it.

Hay.. these moments hit differently when you're a parent na.

This whole thing got me thinking about us—yes, tayong freelancers—and the kind of lives we're building while chasing those six-figure months and premium clients.

Isn't that why many of us chose this path in the first place? 

The freedom to be there when our kids have those life-changing moments? 

To actually witness our partners' small victories? 

To have the flexibility to drop everything and hold your child while they process the big emotions of life?

Yet I catch myself sometimes, , working until 2 AM, having too many unhealthy meals, postponing that health checkup for the nth time, all while telling myself I'm doing this "for them."

But what good is all that hustle if we're not around long enough to enjoy the fruits of our labor?

If we're trading our health and presence now for some imagined future where we finally have "enough" to slow down and really live?

As freelancers, we ALREADY have this incredible gift—the ability to design our lives. 

But sometimes we forget to actually use that power and instead fall into unhealthy patterns that mirror the very corporate world many of us were trying to escape.

Heck, I don't have all the answers here. I'm still learning too. But that night with Julian was a wake-up call for me.

So I'm making some changes:

• Setting real boundaries around my work hours
• Prioritizing my health (yes, day 3 pa lang without soda but I'm starting na!)
• Being more present when I'm with my family, not just physically there while my mind is still solving client problems

Because the whole point of this Work Fun Home life isn't just about the "work" part—it's about creating a life worth living, worth remembering, worth being around for.

What about you ?

What would your loved ones miss most if you weren't around?

And how can you start showing up for that part of your life more intentionally today?

Not trying to be morbid, but sometimes these hard questions lead us to the most important answers.

Reply and let me know if this hits home for you too.

Shoden "Still Learning Every Day" San

P.S. If you've been putting off that check-up or that conversation or that boundary-setting with clients... this is your sign. Do it today.

🎉

Pst. Don't Keep Me A Secret. refer this newsletter to your freelancer friends. This REALLY REALLY helps me a lot, thanks!