Thanks, Hazel. Fill me up.
'Give from your overflow, not your reserves.' 'Give from your saucer, not your cup.'
As someone who normally lives with a pretty full cup, losing my sister, Layney, has brought this notion back to mind. I've nurtured a fulfilling life and career that is nourished and fed, in part, by doing what I can to keep my cup full and freely sharing the overflow. In January of 2020, the loss of my sister was like getting bumped hard sending my cup flying. I can't imagine if I had children or needy loved ones like my mom did when she lost her sister, among others. This week I've had the sad luxury of letting others pour into me. From loving words on FB, to texts, calls, visits and even a hot dish (!!!). It's like through you, Hazel, the waitress has been watching my cup and just when it gets low or cold, I am offered a refill or a fresh cup. I have been floored by the tenderness I sense that people have for me and this loss. I have been in pain, but not empty. Not for long.
What of that overflow that puts the magic in my work? I'm staying curious about it. I've had a few coaching sessions, launched a brand new group, and this coming weekend have an all-day workshop. The thought of giving what I don't have is exhausting. I'm still in it, so the learning is still trickling in, but what I seem to be learning is how much reserve there is in the relationships - in the space between people. I still want to flood the space with my love, but in my emptiness, what I have seen is how much love there is in reserve for me - and that love is love, regardless of who brings it.
I am learning anew, that caring for oneself is critical if you want to care for others without draining your own cup. I'm also learning that there is love aplenty in reserve for me - and who brings it is less important than that we take our hands off our cup when we can and say, 'Yes please' and 'Thank you.'