I was recently asked about my plans for refilling my cup this summer. It's a totally normal question, especially when you work at a university and summer is generally known to be a slower-paced time.1 It's a question I've been asked plenty of times before and have definitely asked of others. I'm also positive I've offered up the classic advice that "you can't pour from an empty cup" at some point to someone (read: lots of times to lots of people).
Yet, for some reason, when I was asked the question recently, I had the thought: why do our cups get empty in the first place? What if they could be at least partially full all the time?
I've been slowly reading and savoring Tricia Hersey's book Rest is Resistance, and as I was thinking about these cups and their empty state, it brought to mind this point that she makes about rest:
Understand exhaustion is not productive. You are not resting to gain energy to be more productive and do more.
I reread this concept several times, trying to wrap my head around it. For years, I've thought of rest as "resting up" or "recharging my battery." Getting a good night's sleep regularly to be fresh and at my best for the work that needs to be done. Grabbing a quick nap so I won't be so sleepy and unfocused. It never occurred to me to separate rest from productivity. To view it as something valid to be done on its own (a birthright as Hersey would call it).
At its heart, this discussion of cups and how full or empty they are, or whether or not they need to be refilled, is always related to resting up in order to be more productive. It's basically saying: "Hey, you need to be doing and giving and pouring, so refill and then get back to it, okay?"
It's one of those subtle shifts in language that gets bigger the more you think about it. Resting for our own health and well-being in and of itself. Resting because we aren't meant to wear our tiredness like a badge of honor. Resting to rest, not to get some imaginary internal battery back to one hundred percent so that we can get back to the grind. Choosing to not pour ourselves out until we are empty.
Look, I don't have this all figured out. I can't promise I'm never going to utter advice about not pouring from empty cups to someone ever again. It's hard not to. It's a poignant metaphor, the root of which is "take care of yourself." Which obviously I want us all to do, it's the point of what I spend time writing about here every week. But what I am working to do is to start thinking about this differently. How might we not allow ourselves to give and give and give to the point we're wrung out with exhaustion and need to be refilled?
I don't have the answers yet, but I know it starts with allowing ourselves to separate rest from productivity. To rest simply because it is part of being well and being human and being whole.
Full stop.
Beautiful Thing of the Week
Quoting from Rest is Resistance as this week's beautiful thing. I stumbled on this passage about refilling our cups when looking for the exact wording for the quote above, and I think it's important to share the historical and societal context that Hersey presents:
The cup metaphor also is most often geared toward women, who, because of patriarchy and sexism, carry the burden of labor. Marginalized women, specifically Black and Latina women, make up the largest group of laborers in a capitalist system. Our labor historically has been used to make the lives of white women less hectic and more relaxed. So when I hear and see this ‘filling your cup’ language repeated on memes on social media and in the larger wellness community, I realize that our view of rest is still burdened with the lies of grind culture. I propose the cups all be broken into little pieces, and we replace pouring with resting and connecting with our bodies in a way that is centered on experimentation and repair. I don’t want to pour anymore. It is time to begin the dismantling of the cult of busyness one person at a time. One heart at a time. One body at a time.
-Tricia Hersey, Rest is Resistance, A Manifesto
I'd love to hear from you on this one. What are your thoughts on rest and productivity? Can we separate them? How might we rest just to rest? What can we experiment with?
Be well, find tiny joy (and rest),
Mary Chris
Shoutout to all the folks in colleges/universities for whom summer is NOT at all a slower-paced time: those who plan and lead orientation for new incoming students, academic advisors registering new students and tracking down returning students who haven't registered, those teaching summer courses, financial aid staff, student athletes and the coaches and staff who work with them, and probably plenty of others I'm forgetting.
We need oxygen, water, food, shelter, and sleep (preferably 8-10 hours each and every night) to function properly. God clearly wants us to rest. Why in the world do we fight it when we need it and feel guilty when it’s a natural part of life?
Love this piece, Mary Chris. Couldn't help but think as I was reading about how resonant this is with the Judeo-Christian practice of Sabbath. Coincidentally, Tish Harrison Warren's newsletter from this past Sunday reflects on some similar themes (sorry for the long URL but wanted to make sure the article wasn't paywalled!): https://www.nytimes.com/2023/06/25/opinion/sabbatical-work-life-balance.html?unlocked_article_code=NUci1cd9KXwXyAYxs1f51X6Z_qf6eAw9Cn1ZUzGvZOCTEzCmskm5yOd5KPxecLaYnT_cSe9wEy3NP_88iCJCa9f1DgogtAphE1KJ1SNvWUtqTbKf7-PdfyP0OgbXRxTts7LLer5_wX3tM9a0rAz2Gbe41Usj6aYvxukCstdZGMmOkXCVX535jpJzAcRAQABRpILLG3SRNb8o5UtRp7OjsCNee_1dBzYaYhfYjYNRrd0YZuSuia0fukUNCGY1fUq2XROGZ4yyYsyfMJsoYiswejAhS5ZR1IZZUJCtJVDjEJN-rWzxuN1d2sef1QtOYjYCd1G8TCsKIO7jTC8IJTHSOfCl957AVg&smid=url-share