It comes down, when all is said and done, to one of the oldest cliches in the world. Is the cup half full or half empty?
A simple saying, almost too small to be persuasive or compelling.
But yet, for me, so true, so important. It is a mantra for me.
This idea sets the template for the day. This morning, feeding the animals, watching the sun rise up so gracefully over the hills, back-lighting the frost that has formed in the forest on this very cold night, I thought about my cup, something I do every morning.
Do I mourn what is lost, or give thanks for what is present? Do I fear the future or be grateful for the present? Do I yearn for what I do not have, or celebrate what I am fortunate to have? Simple questions, simple choices, really, but they set the tone for my day, for my life. They have given me a window through which to look at the world.
In an interview, the Rev. Billy Graham told me years ago – for some reason, he took a liking to me while I traveled with him as a reporter on one of his crusades – to never complain about taxes, the prices of gas, the cost of food in the market, or the loss of the good old days.
And never, he said, speak poorly of your life. It is a blasphemy.
The prices of gas, taxes, the cost of food will always rise, he said, the good old days are never as good as people like to think. If you make it a habit, the cup will always have something in it, if you submit to complaint and regret, it will always be empty. And your head will be full of anger and argument, the penalty for a life devoid of self-awareness or spirituality.
It was an important lesson from a man of great faith and empathy and ambition. We did not share the same religious beliefs, but he gave me much to think about and I heard it. Whenever I think of him, I am reminded to keep an open mind, you can learn something from everyone and every thing.
Every morning, I think about the cup, and this has helped me in many ways. Every day.
When someone tries to hand me their grief, their complaints, their anger, I put it in the cup, I don’t take it inside of me. And every day I ask myself if my cup is half full or half empty, and it has become a habit, an instinct, it is made its way into my sub-conscious, it shapes my writing and view of the world.
Every time I think about the cup, I am reminded of what I have, not what I do not have.
This morning, I thought briefly of the many things I once had but no longer have. More money, more fame, more material things, more of what some people call “security.” Today, I have many things I never had – love, partnership, freedom, peace of mind, some comfort with who I am, work that I love, animals that I love, books that I love to write, a blog I love to publish, friends I never had.
And perhaps most importantly, some comfort with who I am. There is not a day in my life where there is nothing to put in my cup, and that is a good thing to be reminded of every day, especially in a world brimming with victims and complaint.
I have no secrets, I have nothing to hide, I want for nothing that I need, I have a sense of security that does not come from money saved. I like who I am, that in itself will cause the cup to overflow.
It is a choice, really, this idea of what kind of a person I wish to be. And what kind of a person I don’t wish to be. That is the real power and symbolism of the cup.