You know that word… work. God, I hate that word sometimes. It carries so much weight for so many of us, and I don’t even know who decided what “work” is supposed to mean. Who made the rules? Since when did we all agree that effort equals value, or that busyness defines worth?

Growing up, I was taught the same thing many of us were. Work hard. Keep your head down. Do well at school. Get the grades. Build a career. Push, achieve, keep going. Always work hard. And I know it came from a good place. In a lot of ways, it’s served me well. But recently I've been questioning what “working hard” actually means.

Because for a long time, for me, work meant looking busy. It meant being productive. Sitting at my desk, ticking things off, making sure I could prove I’d done something with my time. Head down. Eyes on the screen. Don’t stop. But when I really think about it, that isn’t meaningful work. It’s just busyness.

I work in a service industry. My job is about people. It’s about connection. It’s about listening. It’s about understanding what someone actually needs, even when they don’t quite know how to say it. And yet, I still catch myself falling into the same trap: believing that being busy is the same as being useful. It isn’t.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve trained ourselves to believe that productivity equals value. That if we’re not rushing, replying, building, producing, or delivering something tangible, then we’re falling behind. That stillness is laziness. That slowing down is failure. But real impact rarely comes from frantic activity. It comes from presence. From slowing down enough to notice. From listening properly. From paying attention to the human in front of you instead of the task in front of you.

It’s funny how easily we convince ourselves that work is about output, when in so many roles, especially people-focused ones, the most important work is invisible. It’s the conversation. It’s the moment someone feels heard. It’s the space you hold for another person when they’re struggling. It’s choosing to show up with intention instead of urgency. That kind of work doesn’t sit neatly on a to-do list and it’s not always easy to measure, but it’s the work that actually matters.

I think the word work itself has become restrictive. It pulls us away from instinct and pushes us toward what looks right instead of what feels right. It encourages us to prioritise output over impact, visibility over value. We end up performing productivity instead of creating meaning. Don’t get me wrong, there are hard things you have to do to get where you want to go. It’s not always smooth or enjoyable, and effort absolutely matters. But the issue isn’t effort, it’s where our attention goes, and what we believe that effort is actually for.

Because I can say I worked all day, but how much of that actually meant anything? How much of it even moved the needle, however slightly? How much of it made a difference? Being busy and being productive aren’t the same, and being productive and being useful aren’t always the same either. What I really need to do in my role isn’t more, it’s better. To listen more closely, understand more deeply, and respond more thoughtfully. Not to be busy, not to look impressive, not to tick more boxes. Because being “highly productive” doesn’t help anyone if you’re missing the point entirely.

Maybe it’s time we rethink the word. Maybe work isn’t about doing more, maybe it’s about doing what matters. Maybe it’s about presence over pressure, connection over completion, impact over activity. Maybe that’s what work was supposed to mean all along. 🩷