About this time last year, I was sitting with my publicist, Lori Ames, and my SEO wizard, Sam Insalaco, talking about my social media presence.
Their feedback on my blogs was blunt:
“Roger, you’re writing LinkedIn noise.”
And they were right.
I had fallen into the trap so many of us do — believing the myth that you must maintain a constant social media presence. “Write a blog at least once a month.” Was the accepted practice. “Just get something out there.”
So, I did. I wrote. But it wasn’t inspired. It wasn’t authentic. It was… noise.
I took a couple of months off. Besides, it was around the holidays and, as the social media gurus reminded me, “Nobody reads blogs around holiday time anyway.”
Returning Home — and Finding My Voice
I started living part-time in my grandparents’ house on our family farm near Greeley, Colorado in January — the same house where my father was born, the same land my ancestors worked for generations.
It had been 48 years since I’d spent more than a couple of weeks at a time in Colorado, but now I was there about every six weeks. Something shifted.
I began writing about my experiences on the farm — about living in that old house, walking the land, and feeling the weight and wonder of family history beneath my feet. I wrote about the struggles and joys of Colorado farm life.
I wrote about living across the driveway from my 94-year-old mother, who spends time every day in her sewing room making beautiful quilted pieces. She doesn’t sell them. She gives them away.
And that’s when I stopped writing blogs… and started writing from my heart.
The responses started coming in — more emails, more comments, more connections than I’d received in years. One blog, Walking with the Soul of My Family’s Land, brought over fifty heartfelt replies, including an invitation to reconnect with friends who govern the City of Fort Collins, Colorado.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. My recent books have followed the same principle — writing what I believe, what I’ve learned, and what truly matters to me.
Why does my mom still sew every single day?
Because she loves it — and she loves the joy her kitchen quilts bring to the people who receive them. (read more here)
Why do so many people keep working long past “retirement age?”
Because they love their work, and they know it makes a difference.
The medium doesn’t matter. As psychologist Abraham Maslow once said:
“A first-rate soup is better than a fourth-rate painting.”
In other words, it’s not what you create — it’s that you create.
- Start a business.
- Fail. Start another one. Succeed.
- Stretch an already tight budget to make it work.
- Find a better way to feed the homeless in your city.
- Prepare a delicious meal from leftovers.
- Discover a new way to tell someone you love them.
Every single one of these is a creative act. This is what Maslow meant.
The Work That Comes from Love
The work that comes from the heart connects deeper than anything else. What’s the creative work you do purely for love?
