What gets lost when you lose count
At year's end, I'm floating a different metric for the year that was my 2025.
This year, I’ve been fortunate to continue doing what I enjoy. In a year of turmoil and chaos for so many nonprofits/NGOs, funders, and communities globally, I count my blessings as a solo consultant. All the frustrations I racked up this year are still outweighed by the many positive experiences I’ve had this year to consult, to train, to collaborate/partner, and to ideate/co-create solutions for social impact.
For some consultants, their year is measured by the amount of money they raised, volume of people reached, or number of clients they’ve worked with. For myself, I’ve always been uncomfortable with metrics like these.
Even in a good year, it feels too extractive and reductive at the same time. It doesn’t speak to the good people, good causes, and good organizations involved. It fails to account for the elements within your influence and those things beyond your control. And it sets up false expectations for next year.
You can have one large funder or campaign that made your year a success, and still have multiple failures. You could come up short across all your work, and still be poised for a better year ahead.
So this year, I’m trying out a different gauge: the number of pages I typed. That’s right. I’m measuring my effectiveness this year by the number of pages of output I produced for actual organizational use and/or human consumption.
So what’s my magic number for 2025? About 1300 pages. Yes, I wrote 1300 pages this year. And that’s my low-end estimated page count of finished products from January until December (not including this post).
This includes all of the narratives for every grant proposal/application, every concept note, every client brief, every lesson plan, every presentation, etc. It also includes all my posts written on Substack, and any written copy I produced for others (both credited and as a ghostwriter).
Even here, that number is a bit misleading. It does not include all the time I spent asking, reading, listening, researching, travelling/in-transit, thinking, absorbing, and actually writing. It doesn’t include the thought scraps written on napkins or unsent emails. And it certainly doesn’t account for the typos, edits, and corrections involved.
My 1300+ page count also carries a starker truth. I really did not write much for myself this year. This is not to say I wrote zero for myself. But the work that counts for my enjoyment, my pleasure, my creative urges was not stoked or nurtured as much as it could have been this year.
Note here: I’m not shaming myself for by saying “should have been”. It was what it was. ‘Nuff said.
The writing that isn’t tied to my work or livelihood—the writing that exists because it needs to exist, because it’s in me and wants to come out into the world someday. Much of that weight falls upon me. For sure, there is work I’m holding back, tucking away, and saving for what feels like the right time for me. That barely happened this year. I’m thinking it should happen more next year.
I’m not proud of my page count for 2025. But I’m also not going to wear it as a badge of shame. Instead, I’m going to use it as a gentle nudge to adjust my time and energies for 2026.
Even after a decade actively working in/around Czechia, Hungary, Poland, Slovakia with incredible changemakers and social impact organizations, I don’t feel I’m doing all that I could.
There are still many challenges I encounter as a neurodivergent person of color in a region not necessarily brimming with my particular blend of talents, skills, experiences, and perspectives. So it’s on me to find more channels, if not to build more spaces, through which to connect and engage.
The barriers to progress are still very real, as are the risks that come with centering hope and opportunity against forces bent on undermining inclusion, diversity, and empowerment. Language and culture will always be part of reducing those barriers to be sure. And I get better at both each year, while still staying rooted in my identities, purpose, and values. Now, it’s on me to figure out how and where to communicate this impact journey I’ve made— and which directions/destinations come with it ahead.
There’s a quiet confidence that comes with knowing I’ll carry forward the lessons and sensations from this year as a nudge towards more things I want—and allow—for myself next year. It may be more vocality and visibility as an expert or thought leader. It may mean more creative output across more channels and mediums. It may be more personal transitions and adjustments. Or all of the above, who knows?
I do know I don’t intend to carry the same 1300+ pages from 2025 around with me. It’s time to put that book down, and start another blank journal.
🍵 🍃☕ 🍂 Help us to stay 100% ad-free and independent. Send some caffeinated love our way as we bring you more info below. Your tips, gifts, and donations give us the added boost to keep things flowing. Many thanks⚡🫶🏾 💫