‘Pouring From An Empty Cup’ Is What It Means To Be An Adult

What if helping wasn’t heroic, but was expected? What if we stopped the glitz and glamor of “doing hard things” and just did them, alongside others, without making a spectacle of it? Is this not what it meant to contribute to society prior to monetizing our altruism online? Perhaps we test this theory using a “mental map” called inversion thinking, in which we examine the problem based on the opposite of what we’d want to achieve.Instead of asking, “How can I be happy, me, and only me?” we ask, “What would guarantee my misery?” Instead of asking, “How can we create a sense of purpose and belonging?” we ask, “How do I make people feel unbearably lonely and disconnected from themselves/others/reality?”Well, the first solution to the above problems would be to convince them that they’re the main character of the entire galaxy. This is about you, your “journey”, your “truth”, your “boundaries”, your needs—you, you, you boo-boo!Thanks for reading honestly unorthodox.! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.Second, we’d teach them that being needed by other people is a burden, and that people depending on you are little more than energy-depleting losers with an ulterior motive that is derailing your very important “me journey”.In our Wall-E-esque society, we’ve grossly misunderstood the role of service. We’ve diagnosed others as reliable depleters of our personal resources rather than crucial to our growth. True adulthood isn’t about self-optimization — it’s about self-sacrifice, purpose, and resilience through giving. We cannot allow wellness to become yet another form of commodified self-obsession.Tragically, young people are taught that prioritizing their own “selfish needs” is imperative to living their coveted “truths”. The analogy that is the empty cup is used to illustrate the supposed moral collapse that is tending to the needs of others before we’ve managed to achieve contentment for ourselves. The empty-cup metaphor implies it’s personally damaging to help others if we’re struggling with our own nonsense, as if barely stumbling through everyday life is a new concept which requires optimal health and wellbeing.I admittedly used to believe in these faulty frameworks; at its face, it makes sense that servicing others may be futile if we’re miserable. “You can’t make another person happy if you can’t make yourself happy,” pop-psychology gently reminds us. Women with young children tout their color-coded, jam-packed “me times” in their calendars as badges of boss-bitch virtue, proclaiming their liberation from the constraints that are pesky other human beings. I’ve long since resented this idea that others function mostly as obstacles to our personal pursuits, and our stunted social skills as grown adults further proves my point. Perhaps I’m just looking for that evidence which confirms my beliefs that we’re fucked if we continue to downplay the importance of other people in our ‘happiness’ pursuits.To be courageous is to stand tall in the face of danger. Because our lives are riddled with both ease and safety (at least most of us, specifically those who have access to an iPhone or a computer to read this piece), “danger” is most likely social. Social dangers are those which we’ve witnessed across the past 4-5 years: publicly supporting a stance which is politically incorrect; showing preference for a candidate, idea, or entity that some have diagnosed as guilty of an “ism”; and, in some circles, assertive, direct, and honest face-to-face conversations. In the face of these potential moral injuries we’ve retreated to anonymous Google forms for “feedback” (i.e., professional tattle-taling) and rapid-fire text message exchanges “for those who don’t like confrontation.” Confrontation is not only what it means to be an adult, but it’s what solidifies our relationships. We are nothing without one another, and with one another inevitably comes conversational rifts. Pour me another, baby. Or don’t, because to replenish our resources usually means we’re committed to doing that which is uncomfortable despite feeling depleted. Hashtag adulting!“Pouring from an empty cup” is the antidote which extracts meaning from our day-to-day lives. How important are we that we cannot spare a moment (or, gasp, several moments) for another person, even if it ends up being a complete inconvenience or waste of time? I’ve been guilty of ducking in my car if I sense my chatty neighbor will rope me into a 20-minute long conversation when I’ve already reached my quota for chit-chat in the first 4 hours of my day. I’ve also abruptly turned around in hallways at work to avoid catching a talkative colleague if I’m feeling particularly drained of the attention these exchanges typically require. The stealth nature of texting versus calling, or emailing versus in-person interaction, has rendered us brittle, somewhat useless social partners. How are we to become better at problem-solving, critical thinking, and connecting with others if we’re only willing to engage with them using methods that are convenient, fast, and effortless?Perhaps a broader example of how aggressive narcissism reveals itself is our sense of duty to our parents. The talk of shaming our parents for abandoning their health and therefore burdening us as we age? I personally think it’s grotesque. When my parents call, I will bow out of any professional or personal endeavor to receive them. Seven years ago, I was the first person my Dad told over the phone that my brother had died. I was in the staff lounge at my mental health technician job and was laughing with co-workers while greeting him with the usual “Heeeeeey, Dad!” I then proceeded to tell my Mom, as my Dad couldn’t. Although I’ve always tended toward giving to others, the death of my brother reframed any ideas I’d had about what it meant to support others in their sorrow. Even if I was an only child, though, and had never experienced tragedy like my family has: how can we so candidly move our parents aside the moment they begin to suffer?Our parents birthed us, fed us, allowed us to vomit in their hands. Mom repaired the fissures in my broken, teenage heart with only a hug and an “Oh, honey.” Dad forged a stoicism in me unshakable by most any hiccup through relentless reminders to cut the grass even when I fought him at every turn. Our parents lugged our whiny tushies around to sports practices and friends’ houses, all without Google calendars and adorable schedules, and socially numbed themselves in the presence of other asshole parents to demonstrate their support of our every desire. And we’re suddenly going to sit here and act like it’s not on us to provide for them as they age?But Kayla!!! Enter the oxygen metaphor of how a mother cannot save her children in a plane plunging towards Earth unless she puts her oxygen mask on first. First of all, an extreme medical situation like this should not be used to justify ourselves and only ourselves. How often are any of us in moral dilemmas like these in which our children or our pets or our spouses must be considered as the sacrificial lambs? I’m yet to speak to a person who has had to make such an impossible decision.Save the train-track-dilemma (i.e., save one person or save five people, you only get to spare one or the other), we’re left with decisions and everyday tasks of “adulting”: should we cut our workout short so we can get to work early to celebrate a co-worker’s baby? Do we suffer through an endless Sunday of Fantasy Football with our spouse instead of expanding our minds with podcasts of choice, shopping, and wine? On a more serious note: do we leave our parents and family to move to another state, which may offer greater financial gain and free time in our future? Do we stay with a spouse we’re miserable with in order to provide the stability and stability the children need as they age?Being an adult means making hundreds of decisions from mild nuisances to those truly life-altering. Some are colossal failures people are left trying to repair for the remainder of their lives. Others seem more dramatic than they turn out being. Whether you’re a young adult or a mother of twelve, you will be faced with countless situations in which you must sacrifice your own wants, needs, energy, and time---- when your cup is empty or brimming with muddied shit-water. This is life, and it’s okay that this is life.Maybe this perspective is an artifact from my upbringing. My Mom definitely tips more towards excessively concerned with how others view her, and my Dad is bordering on Scrooge-like indifference toward others and their perceptions. Together, they almost form a normal person (i.e., me). I’m largely unafraid of social consequences but am still affected by things I hear, things I read, things I see, and some criticisms.I have gone out of my way to do ridiculous things for other people because I was too afraid to say no. Nothing happened to me other than kicking myself for saying “yes” again, telling myself I’d definitely reject these requests in the future and that I’d swear off anything mildly reeking of the same old shit. I’d go on to do it again and again and again, all of which would result in no greater or worse emotional state. Sure, some of my time was wasted, or I left a situation feeling as if I could’ve been doing something more enjoyable. But once again--- such is life.Why do we make a mountain of doing things for other people? Is it not one of the great wonders of life to be of service to others? Yes, this can become pathological. I wrote recently about God complexes and how a perverse obsession with fixing others or micromanaging their pain states is more selfish than it is altruistic. But perhaps this also goes to show our pandemic that is narcissism: even helping people becomes a selfish pursuit aimed primarily at filling our own cup.Be useful and help anyway. “Do it tired”, the gals say.What I say? Refill the cup by tipping it.Thanks for reading honestly unorthodox.! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit honestlyunorthodox.substack.com