Modern Day Alchemy

"You can't pour from an empty cup"

That notion has been used, widely, to describe the need for self-care. We can't fill up others if we're empty. It's a very helpful way to portray the abstract importance of attending to yourself first, unfortunately, it's not true.

At least not in the context of giving to others. There are modern day alchemists all over the damn place. Teachers, health care works, front line employees, parents, and the list goes on. They do pour from an empty cup. Now more than ever. The pandemic has taken people in most industries who were already pouring a gallon for every ounce they gave to themselves into wizards who give more; longer hours, higher risk, more intense emotional labor, and no longer have anything left to give themselves.

And yet, they are still showing up.

How?

Because it is possible for people to give when they're on empty. This is always been true, otherwise our species would've died. After providing the LITERAL MAGIC of birth to allow a soul to come into this world the brand new, fully depleted parent, goes into giving mode immediately. The origin of this analogy was, I believe, to give a visual about why it's inadvisable to pour from an empty cup, but the problem is a tangible cup literally, when empty, cannot suddenly provide more water. People's spirits can. We can and do survive and thrive through catastrophe. Those of us inclined to provide to others, either through socialization, purpose, psychological compulsion or the triple threat of all the above often look outward at other needs first in times of crisis. The danger in the comparison is how easy it is to think, 'well, I'm giving, so I must have something left in my cup' or to have heard the siren call of all the unmet needs in the world that your cup is sitting at home, next to your wellness, long ago abandoned while you're pouring from to others from a hydration pack you created from pulling, and pouring, from the marrow of who you are to ensure others get through this.

You deserve to get through this too. We all do.

Now, as fascinating as it would be, from a sociological standpoint, to see what would happen if we all just stopped pouring from empty during a time that is, essentially, requiring it, I'd rather we take the baby step towards awareness on this one.

There's enormous power to be found in understanding just what incredible work you're doing by being in positions, personally or professionally, where you are providing to others during times when you have nothing for yourself. Firstly this gives you an incredibly important piece of information, like that charmingly pesky gas symbol that comes on in cars when your car is just about out of fuel, giving you enough of a warning to get to a gas station and fill up (or, more realistically, put in as much as you can spare and make it to the next payday). You can continue on this path if you choose, you can continue to give of yourself, but it comes at cost, awareness of that is critical. (and yes, the car analogy ultimately fails in the same way the cup one does as there are very concrete limitations that people just don't have when it comes to giving of ourselves)

The second powerful thing knowing this gives you is profound appreciation of how fucking mythically majestic you are. For a long time when I was giving to others while I was empty I wouldn't feel powerful or proud, I didn't feel magical, I felt like a failure because I could feel my limit approaching, or I'd miss my limit and become resentful, angry, depressed, worse for wear, and push my self to a place where the only option was leaving completely. When you can articulate just how valuable, critical, and unreasonable and unstainable of a thing you're doing, boundaries become easier. This often really cheeses off the people or organizations that are capitalizing on our giving (and okay, perhaps somewhat codependent) nature to manipulate us into feeling we 'owe' something more to them, our jobs, those we serve etc. when truthfully most often they owe us for being magical providers who continue to show up past any point of reasonable, for getting our society through another damn day, they owe us, at minimum, a daily thank you, but if they (large they here, organization, society, abstract 1984 big brother they) allow you to see that, they may lose you and so instead they misuse you to keep you in pain, pouring from empty, running on nothing, and saving their ass.

Third knowing this gives you options. I am in a field like those mentioned above; essential, necessary, short staffed, high in demand. In a past job (okay in several previous jobs) I kept running into the same breaking point where I had to leave, not always gracefully, but always necessarily in order to pick up the pieces of everything they took from me and broke within me by expecting I run on empty and then blaming me for being broken by them. Talk about fucking gaslighting. I recently, by sheer dumb luck, found a work place that allows people to articulate when they're at their limit and use time off, or be asked to be off the schedule, and having that breathing room to be a whole person gave me such enormous relief. Ironically I now need less time off to keep my cup full, but when I first showed up I needed those days, and was permitted them without guilt trips, defending why I'd use PTO, or need time off, just affirmation that taking care of myself is important or even kind wishes of good time off. IN A PANDEMIC, WHILE UNDERSTAFFED. There were no guilt trips or eye daggers. No subtle retaliation, just an accepted way of existing at work. It had never occurred to me before the positive experience that I ever had options beyond running myself so far past okay the emergency exit was my only remaining choice, that or complete and total destruction of self, and I love myself too much for that nonsense.

It's allowed me to have more time for things I love and to enjoy them in my down time. Things like reading. On one such wonderful day of rest I was reading a fantasy book in which a mage was able to provide incredible, life saving, dragon killing, death healing magic but at great personal cost. They could do the impossible, but it stole their health. To give so greatly required them, for a short while, to be carried or assisted with walking, specific daily potion to attend to chronic cough, and so much rest. It dawned on me that we do this (and the author may have been making a beautiful example in the story of that) in how much we give of ourselves, past empty, past super empty, past reasonable, into full on mage magic. We are alchemists. Taking our nothing and turning it into gold for others.

Much like the epic fantasy in which I found that example, the journey from understanding this truth, and implementing any changes from it is a long and harrowing one, full of monsters (AKA people who will try to gaslight you into sacrificing yourself for their convenience, be pissy at your boundaries, and emotionally immature people who try to spray their emotions at you so they can feel less burdened for a while), choices about which paths to travel (quit, stay, strike, draw hard lines), requires travel companions and may, at times, require continuing on alone into the unknown. We learn skills along the way; setting boundaries, emotional contagion, emotional labor, self-soothing, how exactly to feel our feelings, what self-care is, what gives us joy that isn't found in other people, and quite possibly, how to tie a sturdy knot and snake a drain (not all skills we'll need will be of the emotional kind) and on the other side of it all we may find 'victory' in our original goal or we may find ourselves places we never expected to be on brand new adventures to uncertain and unknown lands; more able and capable to handle ourselves and any situation we may face.