What I Wish I Knew About Work and Worth
- Lisa Gregory
- Oct 17
- 2 min read
Updated: Nov 11
You can be good at your job and still feel empty.
You can tick every box, meet every goal, and still wonder: Why does this not feel like success?
Work is supposed to be meaningful a place where skills meet purpose.
But for many, it becomes a treadmill: motion without direction, output without joy.
HAPHE calls this work without worth when effort continues but connection collapses.
You’re producing, but not participating.
You’re earning, but not evolving.
It’s not laziness that causes burnout.
It’s working endlessly at something that no longer feeds your emotional economy.
The Exchange Rate of Purpose
When you first begin a part-time job, a new internship, a startup idea it’s not just about money.
It’s about possibility.
Every shift or task feels like a brick in your foundation.
But over time, routine turns passion into process.
Deadlines replace discovery.
Numbers replace meaning.
HAPHE says every job has two currencies: income and impact.
You need both in proportion.
When income grows but impact stagnates, imbalance begins.
The emotional exchange rate drops; you’re paid, but not fulfilled.
The Identity Trap
In a culture that equates busyness with value, it’s easy to mistake activity for importance.
You work late, not because it’s needed, but because silence feels risky.
Rest feels like rebellion.
You define yourself by your title, your productivity, your performance review.
But when identity fuses with output, you lose stability.
Because one bad week at work feels like a bad week at being you.
HAPHE calls this vocational over-investment: when your job stops being something you do and becomes someone you are.
The result isn’t pride it’s pressure.
You stop feeling alive through work and start surviving for it.
The Emotional Cost of Productivity
Productivity feels powerful you can see results, control outcomes, and measure progress.
But when it’s driven by anxiety rather than intention, it becomes extraction.
You spend energy faster than you can replace it.
Like any system overdrawn, it begins to degrade: attention shortens, patience thins, meaning drains.
You can’t outwork emptiness.
Every object tells a story — some about who we are, others about what we’re ready to release.
Understand objects and possessions as living connections, explore emotional spending and the cost of control, and open yourself to the generosity loop.
Question financial safety, reflect on work and worth, and learn to let go when success or ownership begin to weigh too much.
Balance comes when possessions support your story — not define it.