When Did Our Worth Become a Piece of Paper?

A quiet reflection on CVs, productivity culture, and the strange way we measure a human life.

Every now and then, a thought drifts through the broom closet that feels worth sharing.

The other day I was having a conversation with my brother David.

We were talking about CVs.

You know — those tidy little documents that are meant to summarise who you are as a human being. Your experience. Your value. Your worth in the world of work.

And as we talked, something about it started to feel… strange.

A CV is essentially a snapshot of your productivity.
A list of things you’ve done.
Roles you’ve held.
Qualifications you’ve earned.
Skills you’ve learned to perform.

But nowhere on a CV is there space for the things that truly make a human life meaningful.

There’s no section for kindness.
Or resilience.
Or the quiet strength it takes to keep going through seasons of uncertainty.

There’s no bullet point for the way someone lights up a room when they walk in.
Or the way they show up for their children.
Or the wisdom they’ve gathered simply by living.

And yet, somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed the idea that this document — this neat little summary of our productivity — is somehow meant to represent our worth.

As if a human life could be reduced to a page.

It made me think about how different cultures view purpose and existence.

In much of Western culture, we’re taught that we must justify our existence.
We must achieve. Produce. Earn. Accumulate.

But in many Indigenous traditions, humans are not here primarily to achieve anything.

We are here much like the trees, the rivers, and the birds.

To exist.
To participate in the living world.
To experience life.

To be.

The flowers in a field are not asked to prove their worth.
The ocean is not required to justify its existence.
The wind is not expected to be productive.

They simply are.

And they are beautiful because of it.

Perhaps we have been measuring ourselves with the wrong tools.

Perhaps the question was never meant to be “What have you achieved?”

Perhaps the real question is simply:

How fully have you lived?

With love & light,
Sarah xx
The Broom Closet