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It strikes me that those of us whose work involves our personal soul and psyche, who put our lives out on the page or the canvas, or who express our deeply held beliefs through our work, perhaps have a harder time than some in disengaging our personal worth from our work.
I know that when I worked in the bias-binding factory, the greaseproof-paper factory and the sheepskin-slipper factory (exposing my glamorous late-teens vacay jobs to the world here) I did not go home and agonize about what anyone would think of me when they inspected my output. My self-esteem wasn’t in it.
Later, though, when I was a producer and writer – different story. I felt the true agony of putting my very own creative efforts out there for the perusal of the world, feeling that I was effectively laying my soul bare.
And the reason it was so painful is because I had not separated my worth from my value.
I felt that if I did work that was less than perfect, it meant I, myself, was less than perfect. and that was unacceptable to me because I believed it to be unacceptable to everyone else.
I couldn’t just be me, in all my flawed glory, with my splendid foibles and the magnificence of my tumult and disarray.
Along the way I learned something really important, that’s changed how I do my work: worth is inherent and value is relative. We need never even question our intrinsic, innate worth. We can separate our worth from the value of what we do – everything we do.
You are always, because you were born that way, of worth. What you do will be of varying value, depending on how it’s observed, wanted and needed.
Worth just is – value can be tweaked and improved upon. The perceived value of what you offer is never a statement about the worth of you.
There are those who will love what you do and those who won’t. This is never a judgment on your worth as a person.
Separate them. Then, you can address questions of value in your work, in how you choose to live, the choices you make, without attaching any of that to your fundamental, inborn right to be here, exactly as you are, in this moment.
And if your work, your output in the world, sometimes falls short of your own standards, then consider this: you represent perfection in your impeccable imperfection. You are what you were always meant to be: a symphony still in the composition.
And deeply, truly, worthy.