On Thanksgiving, I fill my plate. Stacking white meat on top of dark, sweet potatoes on top of stuffing, by the time I take my first bite, my plate has some impressive height and width. At the Whole Foods salad bar buffet, I fill my to-go box with just about as much green leafy goodness with a side of craisins as I can.
When I pour my morning coffee, I fill my cup to the top, no room for milk or any other substance to detract from how coffee was meant to be consumed: black.
As I look at the way I consume, I realized one thing: the amount I consume is decided when I pick the vessel to transport my meal or coffee. The idea of only filling half my plate or pouring a half cup of coffee doesn't resonate with me. And as such, I've learned that, if I want to have a lighter lunch, I need to grab the smaller to-go box or if I want to twitch a little less in the 10 o'clock hour, I should use a smaller cup for my coffee.
But, in this realization, the thought also came to me that the amount of awesome that we get out of any day, week, or new opportunity is directly proportional to the vessel of our expectations. Whatever size plate we show up with, we'll fill. Whatever size cup we carry into it, we'll get all the way up to the brim.
So, if that is the case, why not show up with a big plate and a huge mug and have ourselves a feast?
When you expect more than others you will work harder than others to make sure you get everything that you can see. When you carry a bigger plate to the buffet of awesome, it may take you a little longer to fill it up, but you'll be able to see how to fit a little bit more cranberry sauce on your plate and, if we're being honest, isn't that what makes this buffet called life so great?