Your earning potential is not your worth

That may sound so obvious that it doesn't need to be said. But I feel impressed to say it, to put it out in the world so that hopefully it will resonate with you at a time when you need it.

If you're reading this right now, chances are you've told yourself this in the past, and mostly believe it. That you can rationalize away the difference.

But, and yes I feel like it needs to be said, because at some point you might need to hear it, to know deep down in the pit of who you are—that the value you create in the marketplace, the capitalistic benefit you can offer to the world—is not tied to the precious worth of who you are as a person.

I could just end here, but I'm worried that didn't get driven home.

We live in a society that flirts with bundling earning and worth and value all tied together, while still trying to pretend that they're not. Deep down we feel it entrenched into our souls. It's part of our daily language, our definition of what we do being so closely tied to who we are that we can't always separate it in our minds.

The things we do for a living, that time we spend generating money, can no doubt provide a lot of self-satisfaction. You work hard, earn enough to provide, and that should feel good. Honest labor, honest reward, all that. There's absolutely something to it, and I've found so much joy from the work I've done that helps others—and the financial benefit to provide for my own family that resulted.

But earning and worth are not tied together, at all. Not in the least.

Human life is the most precious thing we could imagine. Actually, life as a whole. Every person who has, is, or will live is something so special and full of potential that it's easy to dismiss, and I don't want to. Yes, I can't fathom billions of people—I recently heard a stat that 4 billion people use Meta software regularly; it hurt my brain.

I can't see numbers that large, but I can see the people in my own life, and the infinite value they provide just by the being of who they are.

Right now there's so much uncertainty in the world with jobs, AI, things shifting, and so many scrambling to find their footing and their place—and tied up in all that is this question lurking: whether it will be possible to stay ahead of the tide, to continue creating economic value in the marketplace, to be useful enough to be seen, to make a living.

Those fears are real. I feel them myself, and my heart goes out to you if you're feeling the same. Those things are hard to figure out, and together we can hopefully make it through.

But all that has absolutely nothing to do with who you are, and how much I appreciate you.

Yes, the labor we offer and the work we do is amazing. I've been at this for decades and still enjoying it in parts and pieces. But I'm so much more than what I do. I'm a breathing, living person with hopes and dreams, with aspirations and curiosities, with a desire to live and be and give and share and love. The thing I do during the day—yes, granted, a large part of my breathing and waking hours—does not comprise all of me.

And neither does it you.

I appreciate you for you, not for what you can do.

I've seen people who society deemed lazy, unwilling to do their part—and when I looked deeper, I saw something more. I saw people who were trying, but not finding their fit, people who wanted to be loved and belong, but always out of tune. That doesn't mean I'm ignorant of people out there who are truly self-focused and intent on making the world about them and taking all they can get—that's another topic entirely. But rather that more people than we care to admit just want to belong, to love and be loved, and are trying to find whatever they can to fill the emptiness.

The people that we look on as not having it, not producing, not being a productive member of our capitalistic society and playing along? Maybe look again, maybe see if there's something there worth considering outside of the economic value they bear. You might be surprised.