The beauty of what’s left unfinished.

There’s something oddly reassuring about circles. They look complete. They close on themselves, with no beginning and no end. A neat, perfect shape.

But then there’s pi.

That number we first meet in school. 3.14, followed by a parade of digits that goes on forever, never repeating, never settling into a pattern. Some people memorize it to show off. Some tattoo it as a badge of curiosity. Others forget it as soon as the exam is over.

There’s something quietly strange in the thought that even the most perfect shapes have something imperfect inside them.

Like those days when the undone feels heavier than the done. When the checklist seems to multiply instead of shrink. When half-finished presentations sit quietly in folders, and emails hang in draft form, silently asking for closure. When conversations end with a “we’ll talk soon,” and soon never really comes.

We’re taught to tie things up. To finish. To close the loop, tick the box, deliver the outcome. But what if some things aren’t meant to end neatly?

I find there’s a strange kind of beauty in the incomplete. Like songs left unfinished, where the melody fades but something stays with you. Or books that end without answers, yet echo long after. That famous masterpiece, known exactly because it was never finished. Even relationships don’t always end with clean goodbyes. And yet, they shape us.

Maybe pi tells us you can go around and around a circle and never quite land. And maybe that’s not a flaw. Maybe it’s how it’s meant to be.

Because human connection doesn’t follow a schedule. Ideas often arrive in pieces. Growth shows up sideways, not step by step.

Some of the most meaningful conversations I’ve had didn’t end clearly. They stopped mid-thought and came back, months or years later, with new light. The ideas I’m proudest of often began as rough sketches. Some stayed that way. And still taught me more than any finished version ever could.

Maybe you can love someone fully without needing closure. Maybe you can learn something from a launch that didn’t land.

And maybe we don’t need a perfect ending to tell a meaningful story.

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Perhaps the most meaningful parts of our lives are not the ones we finish, but the ones we continue to revisit, reinterpret, and carry with us. What have you left open lately—not out of distraction, but because it still has something to teach you?

Explore how coaching can help you and possibly access a pro bono cycle with me. Nicola Arnese offers these sessions in his free time so as not to create conflicts with other professional commitments. Some flexibility in scheduling may be necessary.