a bottomless cup

and the things we fill it with

last updated on 15th february

Aesop once told a fable about a crow and a pitcher. The crow, dying of thirst, finds a nearly empty pitcher with only a few drops of water at the bottom. Unable to reach the water with its beak, the crow does not give up. Instead, it begins dropping pebbles into the pitcher, one by one, until the water rises high enough to drink.

It's a story of ingenuity, of perseverance. But I've always been struck by the image of the pitcher itself—a vessel that can be filled, emptied, and filled again.

I think we all have a pitcher, or in this case, a cup—our life, our potential, our capacity for growth.

But whether we like it or not, it is bottomless. No matter how much we pour into it, no matter how much we try to fill it with love, success, wisdom, or adventure, it will always have room for more.

The great paradox of life is that, though the cup will never overflow, it doesn't mean you should let it stay empty.

It's easy to get caught up in the day-to-day, to let the routine of life dictate what fills your cup. Work, obligations, responsibilities—they all have a way of taking up space, leaving little room for anything else.

For some, the idea of an endless cup is exhausting. If there is always more to chase, does that mean we are never enough? Never satisfied?

But I think the bottomless cup is not a burden—it's an invitation. It tells us that life isn't about reaching a final destination but about the act of filling. We don't learn so we can know everything; we learn because curiosity is what makes life rich. We don't love so we can complete ourselves; we love because connection is what keeps us going. We don't strive for success so we can rest; we strive because growth is what gives life meaning.

To fear the bottomless cup is to misunderstand its purpose; it is not a void to be filled but a vessel that allows us to keep growing. (oh hey, a previous post reference; I guess the boat is back)