Is the glass half-full, or half-empty?
I think you can work that one out for yourself. Is this glass of good Swiss wine, grown from grapes in the hilly regions of Switzerland, probably at the side of a Lake somewhere, half-full or half-empty? That is a difficult one to guess because a wine glass is never filled to the brim and according to the quality can be emptied quite quickly. However, I do not drink alcoholic beverages so it would remain full on my table. I just take a sip to be polite, and have usually about a spoonful in my glass, after all someone has to drive home.
Getting to the basic problem, how do you look at a glass of water or to get even nearer to the meaning, are you an optimist or pessimist or a little bit of both. If you are a little bit of both, then do not put anything in the glass, it will only get complicated.
For me the glass is always half full, in a figurative way of speaking. I live on the basis that it can only get better. I have broken my left arm twice, but I knew it would mend eventually. With a little help of about twelve screws and a metal plate, my arm is again fully joined together. I even have an interesting scar to prove it. So there is my optimism, I have fun having a long scar stretching from the shoulder to the elbow. I tell you, at a party you are always the centre of attention, especially if you are wearing a sleeveless dress. It is a real source of interesting questions “How did you do that” etc. etc. Summer is a good time for scars when wearing t-shirts: people looking at you with sympathy in their eyes and offering you a seat on the bus if it is full. Or do they offer me a seat because of the salt and pepper colour sprinkling in my hair – who knows?
I have perhaps been lucky in life that I have had no tragedy, live in a country that is war-free and have never been mugged on the street or injured in a serious accident. Perhaps under those circumstances my happy-go-lucky outlook on life might change.
My purse containing my Swiss identity card and all my credit cards was once stolen in a train when I was on my way to the airport to fly to London. I had to break the journey and return home, as further travel was not possible. Not a pleasant experience, but I survived. We have things called insurance, no bones were broken and I managed to block my credit cards within a half hour of having them stolen. My identity card was renewed two weeks later. Some money was lost, about two hundred swiss francs, but in such a situation you perhaps realise how lucky you are to be able to talk about it afterwards. Another plus point: everyone is sympathetic afterwards and feels sorry for you. You see the glass is filling up again.
So another day draws to an end, I survived and the sun is shining at the moment. And if it was cold and snowing and icy, I would probably just read a book and wait for the ice to thaw.