Filling Buckets

My friend Emily led the Children's Message at church yesterday. I love the children's message because it's usually a nice summary of whatever Steve is going to preach about. I'm a big fan of putting things into understandable contexts. Emily teaches first grade and told the children about a question she poses to her class at the end of each day, "Did you fill someone's bucket today and did someone fill yours?" It's essentially asking if you did an act of kindness that day and did someone do an act of kindness for you. But over the past day, I've been pondering this metaphor and how aptly it is tied to our self-worth.

I always hated our yearly "love yourself/self-esteem" units in school. If you aren't completely tuning them out, you end up with one of two messages: 1) Wow, I already knew how amazing I am, I definitely need to keep thinking this or, 2) Wow, I actually know that xyz are faults of mine, I'm really failing at this self-esteem thing/oh wait that's another problem. Being a people-pleasing perfectionist (try saying that three times), I often gravitate toward the second alternative. My mother-in-law chided me (lovingly) on Easter because when I tell people I got into a PhD program, I say it in a way that sounds like total surprise. I hope this is because I'm actively succeeding at cultivating humility, but I think it's more likely that I am still fairly astounded when I take chances and succeed.

I think we're all buckets, waiting to be filled. How well we are filled depends on many things, one of which is our self-worth. It frustrates me that the very superficial parts of our lives are often used to determine our worth to society. People judge us based on how we look, where we live, what our profession is (and how much income we make as a result), where we went to school, what we majored in, what kind of clothing we wear, who our family is, our mastery of homophones (I struggled with this a lot in this post), etc. I'll own to being guilty of that. My face burns because people assume I'll judge them a certain way because of these outer layers. In passing out food to the men at manna yesterday, one guy asked for a bag for his friend. He pointed the guy out, assured me that he would give the bag to him, and then told me that I could watch him walk it over. It was embarrassing for the both of us. He, because society has constructed the stereotype that if you're homeless you aren't trustworthy. Me, because he assumed that I assumed this about him. Guilty because I know I harbor stereotypes that I don't want. Upset because I hate it when people diminish my worth because of who I am, as if there are only a few layers to who I am.

Shouldn't we actually judge people based on their whole selves, getting to know them instead of making snap judgments?

Even if we don't want it, we all have an ego, formed through how valuable society tells us we are and through our own interpretation of that valuation. Our ego is our bucket. Based on experience (both personal and impersonal, and anecdotal from history) people with higher self-worth go two sorts of ways. There are those that have buckets so full with their own identity that any addition makes it run over. Genuine joy runs over and spills into the buckets of those around them. Life is so full that they can't hoard anymore. Even when their buckets are emptier, that joy spills out. These are the people that everyone wants to be around because they make you feel loved. People fill their buckets and they fill even more buckets as a result. I'm going to miss South Main because so many people there have this sort of joy in their lives.

But the opposite exists. Instead of spilling out, their sense of worth becomes a sponge, sucking up the joy of those around them. Their sponge is already full of accolades and worth, but it's never enough. It takes effort to wring out enough to fill another bucket. I find that politicians are often like this. Instead of working with others, they just want to get their way and the reap the rewards that go with it.

And then there are those with little self-worth. Their buckets may get filled, but they are quickly drained. Every hurtful comment pokes another hole in the bottom of the bucket. Somedays they are able to plug the holes, but stopgaps only do so much. They aren't pariahs (well not all of them). Many people I can think of who don't have full buckets drain them into others, filling another's bucket as theirs slowly empties.

I don't know which I am. I know I'm better at trying to fill buckets then letting mine be filled. I get uncomfortable when the water level is too high, afraid that if my bucket is too full it will drain too quickly when holes emerge. I know that I'm overly susceptible to holes, especially when they come from those closest to me. Very rarely will an angry driver puncture me, but I'm fantastic at creating my own drains. I drain myself more often than anyone else does. I loved school because I loved getting grades. Good grades, in my head, filled my bucket. Good grades gave me a sense of self-worth. Even with the support of those around me, I want concrete holes filled.

Sadly, the world doesn't always work the way we want and merit based grading isn't how we are always going to be judged. At some point we have to start filling our own buckets. We choose to surround ourselves with those that act as putty- filling in the holes so that we can be filled. We decide to let go of those that cause us hurt, of those that devalue us. We work at filling buckets because we know how empty a bucket can be. In a weird way, the more we work at filling one another's bucket, the more ours seems to fill as well. I don't believe in karma, but I do believe that we have the ability to put out good into the world and the world has a way of responding to that putting out. We don't put out good in order to get it back. Life isn't fair, but God is good and kindness has a funny way of being responded to with kindness.

I don't know if I filled anyone's bucket today. I sure hope I did, but mine was filled. A student wrote me a note saying how I always looked happy and had something nice to say, Gillian gave me M&Ms, and Sarah is looking at a home for us in Aberdeen. May you always remember to fill someone's bucket (or at least don't poke holes) and may you always allow someone to fill your bucket.