Fullness and Emptiness

How we relate to the spaces we hold and the spaces that hold us

I’ve been making small cups lately - experimenting with a process in ceramics called slip mold casting. Clay is made into a liquid slurry and poured into a plaster mold. As the liquid clay sits in the mold, plaster absorbs some of the moisture, and partially dry clay creates a layer around the inside of the mold. The liquid center is poured out, leaving a very soft clay cup inside the mold. Additional drying time allows the clay to dry and harden, as it releases moisture, the cup shrinks and releases from the mold. The cup is set aside to fully dry, and the mold is ready to receive clay for another cup.

Slip casting cups

As I make these cups, I’ve been thinking about how we reference cups as metaphors in our lives.

When things are going well, we say,

My cup runneth over.

To assess someone’s state of mind or how optimistic they are, we might ask,

Do you see the cup as half full or half empty?

When feeling depleted in our work, a mentor might remind us of the need to recharge,

You can’t pour from an empty cup.

Creatively, I see these messages as important reminders of the need for rest and recharge. I remember in college, I would crave a good book after the intense output phase of exams, final papers, and projects. Reading was a way to refill my creative well. In my creative work, these sayings remind me of the necessary balance between productivity and downtime. Summer feels like a season for slowing down, wondering, wandering, and receiving inspiration. These sayings are good reminders that creative work is about more than productivity, it is important to be aware of ways to refill our well of inspiration.

How do these images of fullness and emptiness speak to you?

What practices help you fill yourself when you feel depleted?

There is a Zen story that I find referenced frequently on this theme of fullness and emptiness. A well-to-do person visits a Zen master wanting to learn. In some stories the person is described as rich, well-dressed, or very smart; what is consistent is the idea that this is a person of importance and stature.

The master offers tea, and they sit down. The master pours tea for his guest and when the cup is full, he continues calmly pouring so that the cup overflows. The guest exclaims that he is spilling the tea, he must stop. The master notes that the cup is like the guest’s mind - it is overly full and there is no room for teaching.

This presents a different, yet related ways of understanding the metaphor of fullness and emptiness. At times I feel creatively depleted, I often also feel overly full. I want to stay caught up with the news, I read works by other writers to feed my curiosity, and as research for my book. Lately emails and library books pile up and I wonder if I am trying to take in too much - maybe I just want some quiet?

I enjoy creating and sharing; it’s the focus of my work. Sometimes this puts a strain on my relatioship with creativity. I sense a tension; it seems my creativity and I need some time to rest and just hang out together. We need more emptiness, room to play and experiment without a concern for outcome or productivity. Part of having a healthy relationship with creativity is remembering to plan for downtime and to respond by slowing down when our work together feels stretched thin.

I’ve begun work on the section of my book that’s about not knowing and uncertainty; I’m reminded that creativity and I need space for these in our process. To rest in the midst of things requires trust and allowing space for not knowing, for leaving things unresolved as we grow into the next phase of our work.

My friend

Jenny Gehman

has a lovely post, Offer Empty that offers another perspective on fullness and emptiness and the awareness and courage to offer what is needed rather than what we think others need.

Are you someone who intentionally leaves space for emptiness?

What practices help you when things feel over-full?

I’d love to hear any other stories of fullness and emptiness that come to mind for you too.

Thank you for reading and being a part of creative community through this newsletter.

With a grateful heart,

Kathryn

I have matured into someone I never dreamed I would become: an unbridled optimist who sees the glass as always full of something. It may be half full of water, precious in itself, but in the other half there’s a rainbow that could exist only in the vacant space.

Alice Walker

A series of watercolors completed over 3 days at the Chesapeake Bay.Thank you for reading Kathryn’s Newsletter. This post is public so feel free to share it.