In the early days of your career, life is simple. You wake up, brush your teeth (hopefully), and start doing tasks. Any tasks. All tasks. Because the rule is simple: do more, learn more, stay visible. Tasks come your way like unsolicited forwards on WhatsApp — random, constant, often annoying — but hey, each one is experience, right?
If you have a job, your day is anyway boxed and wrapped in someone else’s agenda. Your calendar belongs to your employer. So you smile, nod, and get on with it. You hustle. You execute. You reply to emails with “Sure, will do!” when you really want to say “I don’t even know what this file is.”
Fast-forward a few years. You’re freelancing, maybe moonlighting, maybe doing both. Life now is about charging per task. Cool. You discover that more work equals more money. The calculator in your brain learns how to multiply faster than your school math teacher ever dreamed you would. You pick different gigs, dabble in different roles, wear five hats while trying to figure out if you’re a manager, an artist, or just really good at Google Sheets.
And then, one fine day — let’s say somewhere between the first grey hair and your sudden obsession with orthopedic pillows — it hits you.
It was never about the tasks. It was always about the people.
All these years, you were busy collecting projects, like stamps. Only now do you realise that your best work, your most fulfilling work, didn’t come from the nature of the task. It came from who you were doing it with.
You think back: “Hey, that nightmare project? It wasn’t the project. It was that micromanager who thought breathing breaks were a sign of laziness.”
Or, “That chaotic 3-day deadline rush? Weirdly fun… because I was doing it with that team who made even Excel formulas feel like stand-up comedy.”
It’s funny, isn’t it? Nobody tells you this in your 20s. Back then, you’re like a desperate intern at a buffet — piling everything on your plate because “What if I miss out?”
But once the wrinkles show up (emotionally or on your face), you realise you don’t want 40 things on your plate. You want three things, done well, with people you like. That’s it.
You also start pruning your contact list like a spiritual Marie Kondo. That client who thinks urgent means 11:30 PM? Blocked. That “networking buddy” who only calls to pitch crypto schemes? Muted for life.
You realise the magic lies in curated collaboration. Working with people whose emails don’t give you anxiety. People who challenge you, not drain you. People who make the work feel worth it, even when the work itself is the same boring Excel sheet you once swore you’d never touch again.
So here’s the final cheat code:
In the beginning of your career, say yes to the task.
But as you grow, start saying yes only to the people.
Because the work you do will always evolve.
But who you do it with? That’s your real legacy.
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