Fill The Cup, Brother

Is the cup half full or half empty?

What a self-absorbed little riddle — as if a glass gives a damn about my optimism.

It’s one of those falsely profound clichés of self-awareness — the kind you toss out after you’ve already asked about the weather.

Because the truth is, the cup isn’t half anything. It’s just not full. All that talk about half full and half empty is just stalling — a way to avoid the work of actually filling it.

If there’s any question worth asking, it’s this: what fills the cup?

There’s the cheap stuff — the elixirs that vanish the second they hit the air: dominance, vanity, hedonism, booze.

Then there’s the good stuff — the richer elixir. Sacrifice. Eye contact. Service. Prayer. Creative expression. Movement. Nature. Reconciliation. These are the grounded things that squeeze juice from the fruits of love, justice, and light.

I often think about that reflection exercise — the one where you imagine yourself on your deathbed. Thinking about who’s there, and what we’d be thinking in that moment, helps clarify what might fill our cups now.

I tell myself this:

Feel the pain and suffering of your last illness. See the faces of your grown sons, your brothers, and your sisters. Feel Robyn squeezing your hand with hers.

In those moments, will waxing poetic about optimism or pessimism be what we want? No. Will we crave one more chance to assert dominance? No.

We’ll be clawing for one more chance at the good stuff. On our deathbeds, we’ll do everything we can to fill our cups a little more — cherishing every drop.

So why, right now, do we pretend those debates are worth having?

No amount of talk will change how much is in the cup or what elixir is in it.

Should we eat well, sleep well, and keep moving? Yes. Write once a week to keep ourselves sane? Sure. Do what we need to do to patch the holes in our own cups? Absolutely.

But damn.

Brother, don’t be fooled by all the people who talk like they’re too busy for their kids, who treat parenting like a chore. Don’t mimic those who drown themselves in work without setting boundaries, then draw an audience to complain about it. Don’t give up, settling for narcissism instead of agency.

Do none of that.

Fill the cup, brother.

No amount of talk will change how much is in the cup or what elixir is in it.

Every moment of every day, fill the cup. That’s what we do.