Fill Me

I had a discussion with a friend about life.  Why do we do what we do?  What sustains us?  Why do we make people, things, places--even jobs--into what we want them to be instead of what they are?

We don't like feeling empty, that's why.  We look for the parts that are missing instead of the parts that give us joy and fill us with satisfaction.

It might be that our job is not satisfying.  We get up, get dressed, go to work and repeat the same carpel-tunnel-causing movements day after day without realizing we hate it until one Thursday in October we have had enough.

It could be a person who irritates us beyond endurance, but we continue to endure. There is an obligation, perhaps, or  a sense of duty, or a matter of respect.  We keep smiling.  We look for the positive, the things that make us feel good and make them grow in the garden of our minds.  We don't throw out people like so much trash.  We try to accept them and love them no matter where they have gone.

Maybe it is just ourselves.  We are fat or too skinny, have wrinkles or something else that makes us uncomfortable.  We've done things of which we aren't proud. We are looking for acceptance as we are.  So we take a person who seems kind, or who we remember with fondness, and we build a picture of who we want that person to be. We see what we want to see.

We are like a giant empty vase.  When we are young, we fill it with rocks--those being the experiences we have, the job or the education of the moment, the house or the people that we think fill the emptiness inside.  Something is still missing.  Eventually we fall in love, buy a house, get married or find an SO. These are the pebbles that slide between the rocks. We are busy.  We have kids or cats or dogs, lots of meetings and hobbies, money to spend.  We hardly notice that some of the rocks are broken or the pebbles have fallen out.

So we add sand and think "THIS IS IT!". I am filled! Now we have church or a social life. We know everything we need to know. We are successful or not. We have settled into a comfort zone.  We get an itch.  It has to be scratched. We look for a way to soothe it. In my case it was a job I could no longer do, though I had once loved it. It became who I was instead of how I earned a living.  What is your itch?

In a few months, or maybe a few years, the nagging starts again. We have everything we could possibly need, don't we? We have everything we want, don't we? Do we? If we are a puzzle, there is a piece missing.  If we are a vase, we are not full.

We are tired of being structured.  We are tired of doing what we have to do and ignoring what we want to do. We want to be wanted because we are ourselves.  We look for that certain something that has been missing.  Something that fills us to the brim.

Add water....you see, the vase wasn't full until the water seeped between the grains of sand, washed the rocks and surrounded the pebbles.  At long last, you are full.  What was it?  Was it an object, a person, a tender touch, a job, a dance lesson? An undiscovered talent/  Something old made new again?


I urge you, my friends, to find your life-giving water. I found mine in my writing, my new job-to-be and my special friends. Yours may be your faith, a  friend, travel--who knows? As long as it is what you want it to be, you will be filled.