What’s In Your Cup?

Story time.

I was walking down the hallway with a fresh cup of hot coffee in my hand. All of a sudden, someone came running past me and bumped my arm. Hot coffee spilled everywhere - on me, on them, on the floor. 

After hearing that (brief and not all that interesting) story, I have a question for you: Why did the coffee spill?

Since this isn’t a forum in which I can hear your response in real time, I’ll put here a few of the possible answers I might expect to hear.

Because the person was not watching where they were going.

Because you weren’t holding the cup carefully enough.

Because of a defect in the cup.

And… all of those are reasonable explanations. On one level.

But if we break this whole story down to the absolute most basic level, there is one very simple answer. One that doesn’t negate any of the others, but that is nonetheless true.

The reason why the coffee spilled… is because that’s what was in my cup.

And now is the time that I should tell you… that this story…. isn’t about coffee. Or a cup.

Let me re-tell it in a different way.

I was driving to work this morning and a tire blew on my car. I was able to safely pull over to the side of the road, but my hands were shaking as I located the spare tire and waited, exposed on the shoulder of a busy three-lane thoroughfare. I made it to work, albeit a little late, and thought everything was fine. But when I got home, and noticed that something I’d asked for help with hadn’t been done, I burst into tears.

Believe it or not, these are the same story. I am the cup. Frustration and fear were the coffee. My son forgetting to move the sheets from the washer to the dryer was what bumped my arm. The events of the morning had overwhelmed my system, had filled my “cup” to the brim. Going directly to work kept me from being able to “sip” at it - to process it in manageable bits and alleviate some of the stress with which the situation had filled me.

And this story can be retold in all kinds of ways. Like the time I had an amazing morning, filled with love and friends and beauty… then went out for a run, where I tripped and fell and skinned my knee. Sitting on the trail bleeding, anyone around me must have thought I’d lost my mind because what was I doing? Laughing. Because my cup was full of joy and love. The bump? That fall? That skinned knee? Happened because I was so busy enjoying the sunshine and the freedom of moving my body that I didn’t notice a tree root in the trail. And what spilled out of me was the joy that had brought me to that moment.

So what is my purpose in telling and retelling this singular story? It’s a reminder to myself, and I guess to you, now, too. A reminder to take notice of the things that are pouring into me. A reminder to gauge how “full” I am, and to try to identify what it is that has found its way into my emotional cup. A reminder to allow my cup to level out before it spills, or even to allow myself to safely drain it, especially if what is threatening to spill might inadvertently fill someone else’s cup with something that should not be theirs to hold.

Listen, life is messy. Spills happen.  We can’t always control what is being poured into us, or know what bumps are awaiting us. So take care of your cup. And be mindful of what’s inside.