Becoming an Empti-Full Cup:
A Personal Practice for Doulas

by Pam England

When a Zen Master meets a new student, there is a tea ceremony. Tea is poured into the student’s small hand-held cup until he or she gives a small gesture to indicate “enough, thank you.”

A long time ago there was a mind-full, accomplished, self-certain monk who arrived at a temple for training. The Master poured tea. The young monk gestured and gestured to stop pouring, but the Master kept pouring tea until the cup overflowed. Why?

The Master explained, “When you arrived, your cup was already so full, there was no room for new. Empty your cup. . .”

The “empty cup” becomes a powerful metaphor for personal practice. The “cup” represents your Heart, senses, or mind. At every moment, the Holy, Life itself, wants to pour Itself into you, into your “cup.” When your “cup” is full of your ideas, plans and judgments, there is less room to receive the Holy, the unexpected seeing, Light, or gifts the moment is offering.

It becomes a living practice to consciously “empty your cup,” again and again and again. The cup fills up easily; we want to fill it with the tea we “like.” It takes fierce courage to choose Love over being right or comfortable. It takes a commitment and courage to be empty, open, and receptive. It takes courage to hold out your empty cup to receive something new and unexpected, including what seems to us the dark, not-so-sweet side of the Mystery of Life.

The practice of drinking tea in-awareness teaches us how to live fully awake in our bodies, senses and breath. It can be a vital training for a doula aspiring to be mindful in her work. This is a poem I wrote:

To see how drinking tea in-awareness prepares me to be present as a doula, I would like to share my practice:

Before I open the door to greet parents in a hospital labor room, I pause a moment to “empty my cup;” I close my eyes, breathe open my heart, and exhale expectations and judgments I’m already aware of. There is a felt-image of offering my body-mind as an empty cup and allowing the labor room to fill my "cup" with whatever is unfolding.

In the absence of fear or avoidance (or perhaps in utter defiance of it), I take a deep breath in, breathing in everything my senses perceive and what my mind is doing to distort it. This taking-in is just like the practice of drinking tea; just as taking tea into my body allows it to become my body and Life, when I take in this moment, I realize it as my Life.

And to the degree my “cup” has room to receive, I may see, hear and feel more deeply into the moment. Not only does this enrich my life, but it allows me to be interdependent, creative and happier. (I can’t know or be concerned with what it does for others.)

When we are called to assist parents in labor or postpartum, they want us to bring our expertise. In a manner of speaking, they want to drink from our cup. So, the image of a half-full cup might serve us here. We bring something to share, but leave room to receive, too.

Afterthought: This practice is deeply personal. It is not something to talk about casually. The metaphor could easily be misused to judge others (i.e., how “full their cup is”), but to do so would only mean a lapse in practice.