Why Do You Work?

If I had to write one more word, I was going to vomit.

After I posted an article called “The Answer is No” a year ago today, I completely checked out. I unplugged all my devices. I walked away from my desk and retreated to my mother-in-law’s house in the middle of the woods with my family.

No expectations. No Internet. No people. No writing. No nothing.

I’d been burning myself out and was considering taking a step back from the whole “writing on the side” thing. Why not spend the extra effort on my well-paying job? Eventually, I would get a series of raises which would earn me more money. Eventually, I would climb the corporate ladder. Eventually, I would be happy.

Right?

So I made a plan. I would spend the weekend in the woods. There, removed from the baggage of my keyboard, I could decide where I wanted to go with the rest of my life.

Then, something funny happened.

That Saturday morning, I woke up with an idea. I had no laptop, no phone, so I dug up a piece of paper and a pencil. As I sat on the porch, a fall breeze turning my cheeks red, the idea bloomed into a paragraph. That paragraph stretched into a page. While my coffee got cold and the sun struggled to peak the treetops, I kept scribbling. I kept writing.

What was the idea?

I have no clue.

And I don’t care. It really doesn’t matter.

When I got back home, that post I felt so unsure about had collected thousands of notifications, dozens of responses. It became my breakthrough moment on Medium.

But that doesn’t really matter either.

What matters is this:

Creation beats affirmation. I can’t NOT write. It’s not just what I do. It’s who I am.

I hope you feel the same about what you do every day. I hope you are in love with your work. I hope you don’t need instant gratification. I hope you find the strength to offer the world your gift.

We need you.

— TB