When I say “I am going to work this weekend,” I usually get looks of pity.

Raised eyebrows. A quiet “oh no.” Maybe even a head tilt followed by a sympathetic, “You have to work?”

But I don’t think people get it.

I’d find myself explaining. “No, no, it’s actually fun.” “It’s my own thing.” “It’s not like work-work.  I mean yes, I get paid for it but…” 

And eventually, I started wondering why the word “work” came with so much baggage in the first place… Why did people assume it meant suffering?

So I started searching for a new word. 

Something that better described what I was doing when I slipped into that deep, focused state.

You know the one… where time disappears and you’re building something that didn’t exist before. That place where ideas turn into plans, and plans turn into actual things in the world.

Some call it “flow.”
Some call it “the zone.”

For me, it’s the most alive I feel. It’s not just effort, it’s effort infused with meaning. It’s not draining, it’s energizing. I come out of it with more energy than I had going in.

So I needed a word. A word that didn’t make people tilt their heads in pity. A word that reflected what this kind of “work” actually feels like for me.

I tried dozens.

“Build” was close.
“Design” had a nice ring to it.

“Craft” felt a bit too artisanal, like I was spending my days weaving baskets in a mountain cabin. “Invent” felt too grand.

“Tinker” too small.

I even considered “play” for a moment… but let’s be honest, I still have spreadsheets in my life. It’s not that playful.

Eventually, the word that stuck was simple. So simple, in fact, that I almost missed it. It came up during a brainstorm… thanks, AI… and I dismissed it at first because it sounded a little…

…obvious.

But then I sat with it.
Tried it on.
It fit like a worn pair of sneakers.

The word was:

Create.

That was it.  

I was hoping for something more unique, more esoteric… but no.

I don’t “work” on weekends anymore.

I create.

Saying that instantly changed how I felt… and more importantly, how others responded.

When I say “I’m going to create this weekend,” people pause. There’s a different energy to it. Less pity, more curiosity. Sometimes even a hint of envy.

“I’m going to create” says, “I’m making something.” It implies…

Purpose.
Intention.
Joy.

It doesn’t sound like I’m stuck in an office with a flickering fluorescent light and a spreadsheet of doom. It sounds like I’m building something that matters.

And I am.

That’s the truth. I’m not “working” in the traditional sense.

I’m building education companies.
Designing systems.
Solving real problems.

Is it hard? Hell ya.

But it’s also thrilling.  It’s what I’d choose to do even if nobody paid me.

And here’s the funny part: once I started using the word “create,” I started to realize how different my relationship to work really was.
When people say “I have to work this weekend,” it usually means obligation. A deadline. Something imposed from the outside.

But “I get to create this weekend” is something else entirely. It’s an invitation.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not trying to glamorize hustle culture. I’m not suggesting everyone should spend every weekend creating, grinding, building. Family matters.  Rest matters. Both are essential. I’ve learned that the hard way too.

But I am suggesting that if you love what you do, there’s a difference between working and creating.

One drains you. The other fills you up.

When I say I “work” 50 to 60 hours a week, people think I’m complaining. But I’m not. I’m bragging.

Because I know how rare it is.

Most people… statistically, the majority… don’t love what they do. They tolerate it. They’re fine. “Fine” as in not on fire. Not miserable. Just clocking in and clocking out, counting down the hours until they can get back to their “real” life.

That whole “work/life balance” idea is built on this exact dynamic.

It assumes that “work” is inherently bad, and “life” is the good stuff we need to protect from it. The whole phrase sets up a divide that makes it impossible to love both.

But that’s the thing. Work is part of life. And life often spills into work.

If you’re lucky… and let’s not pretend luck isn’t a big part of it… those two blur into something better.

That’s what happened for me.

And that’s why I’ve stopped using the word “work” when I talk about the things I love doing.

I create.

Of course, this isn’t a magic trick.

Changing your vocabulary won’t make you love a job you hate. If you’re doing something soul-crushing, calling it “creation” won’t help.

You’ll just sound poetic while you burn out.

But if you’re someone who has found work that lights you up? If you’ve found a way to turn your ideas into reality, to build something meaningful… whether it’s a business, a book, a nonprofit, a product, or even a community… then maybe you need a new word too.

Something that doesn’t carry the weight of industrial-era labor with it. Something that reflects the spirit of the thing you’re actually doing.

It doesn’t have to be “create.” That’s just the one that worked for me.

Yours might be “build,” or “write,” or “shape,” or “design,” or “coach,” or “lead.”

It might be “serve.” Or “heal.” Or “teach.”

Maybe it’s something completely personal to you.

But if you can find the word… your word… it changes how you show up. Not just in how you talk about what you do, but how you feel about it in your bones.

It’s strange how much one word can shift everything. 

How it can rewrite the internal script you’ve been running for years.

When I started saying “I create,” I started feeling more in control. More proud. More honest about what I actually do.

I wasn’t just reacting to tasks and checking things off a to-do list. I was shaping something. Taking ownership. Being intentional.

It made me appreciate my time more. And it helped me talk about my work without apology.

Because there was a time… when I didn’t love what I did. A time I was also “fine”.

When the word “weekend” meant escape, not opportunity. When I’d say “I have to work” and mean it the way people thought I did… burdened, boxed in.

Those days taught me to never take this for granted.

That’s why I guard my creative time like treasure. It’s why I’ll happily spend a Saturday morning sketching out new ideas or building out a strategy or writing until my coffee goes cold. I don’t resent that time.

I cherish it.

I know what the alternative feels like.

So here’s my invitation to you:

If you love what you do… even a part of it… find your word. The one that helps you talk about it in a way that feels real. The one that honors what it gives you, not just what it takes from you.

Because language matters.

It shapes how others see you.

And more importantly, it shapes how you see yourself.

So the next time someone asks what you’re doing this weekend, maybe you’ll pause. Smile.

And instead of saying, “I have to work,” you’ll say something else.

Something that feels truer.

For that word is create. What about you?