Dealing with two pauses at once – the need for physical rest after a health setback and the financial worry of knowing the holiday drought is still ahead and the pot isn’t full enough.

For many South African freelancers, December and January bring mixed emotions. We look forward to time with family, but we also know these are the leanest work months of the year. Most of us have learnt to save for the holiday drought. This year, though, my careful planning met an unexpected twist – a total hip replacement at the end of July. Add to that turning 60, and yes, I celebrated well, but afterwards it felt less like a milestone party and more like a mind reset. My ortho promised ‘six weeks of recovery’ – but really, in whose body? A 20-year-old’s? A 40-year-old’s? Certainly not mine! I may have been given the all-clear at my recent check-up, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to sit at my desk for eight hours a day.

I’ve always been busy, juggling deadlines and pushing through to get the work done. After surgery, all that changed. Sitting at my desk felt like a form of torture, and even finding a comfortable position to watch TV became a daily challenge. My body was in charge, no matter how much I wanted to pretend I was fine. I’ll admit, I was often grumpy, and it took a lot of patience from my husband – now rightly considered a saint – to put up with me. It’s frustrating to admit that recovery has its own timetable – one you can’t edit or rush. Stillness isn’t easy, but it forces patience, pacing and acceptance. And it reminds you that healing, tiring as it may be, is still work.

On top of the challenges of recovering from surgery, I’m aware the December lull is approaching fast. Work slows, clients vanish to the coast, emails go unanswered, and we hope our squirrelled-away provisions will carry us through. Normally, I manage to put enough money aside to cover that gap. This year, though, recovery arrived first. I’m dealing with two pauses – the physical rest I have no choice but to take and the financial worry of knowing the holiday drought is still ahead and the pot isn’t full enough. The mix of panic and guilt is real – panic when I think about income and guilt when I allow myself to rest. As freelancers, we are good at pushing ourselves, sometimes too hard, and I have to remind myself that recovery is part of the work, even if it doesn’t pay the bills.

All of this also has me reflecting on where I am in life. Turning 60 is more than blowing out candles – it’s a reality check, and the hip replacement certainly reinforced that. Healing reminds me, sometimes sharply, that I’m no longer as young as I once was. Recovery is slower, strength takes longer, and patience has to become part of the plan. I still love my work – shaping words, seeing a page come together, helping clients present their best – yet I don’t always want to work. That’s the paradox: Work has been my anchor for more than 40 years, but this pause shows me that life isn’t only about deadlines being met but also about making space to mend, breathe and simply be.

One of the other lessons of this time is the reminder that I’m not alone. In my independence, I almost forgot to reach out to the people who understand this freelance life best – my PEG colleagues for sure, but also friends, family and fellow freelancers. Support doesn’t need to be big. Sometimes it’s a quick message, a listening ear, or just knowing others face the same struggles. As the summer slowdown approaches, maybe we can share work, pass jobs along, or simply check in with one another. We are, after all, a community – not only of editors, but of people – and we need each other. Balancing recovery, income and the guilt of slowing down isn’t easy, but it feels lighter when shared.

… resilience isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about leaning into the process – of living, of healing and of freelancing.

This journey isn’t over. Some days the words flow, other days I stare at the page for hours, waiting for inspiration to strike. Focus comes and goes, but that’s okay. Recovery isn’t straightforward, just as editing isn’t ever finished in one draft. What matters is patience, giving myself permission to rest, and trusting that I will find my flow again. If this season has taught me anything, it’s that resilience isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about leaning into the process – of living, of healing and of freelancing.

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