Have you ever been so thirsty that you dreamt about drinking a tall glass of whatever?
In Gestaltian dream analysis you are supposed to place yourself as each object or subject in the dream.
You are really thirsty. You go to the kitchen. You open the cabinet.
Now imagine you’re a glass. Specifically, a tumbler—the tall one. You can easily hold 6-8 ounces of whatever. You are sturdy and robust. You’re the biggest glass in the cabinet. The last glass anyone wants to break and the first one chosen for use unless of course you’re all in the dishwasher or on the night stands or left outside on the patio after last night’s double vodka and Pellegrino conversation turned you into a prop and then abandoned you as still life. You are the hero of summertime, yard work and soda pop. You are made for adult hands. People are careful with you. They take care not to drop you when you dew up and get sweaty from a hard day’s labor. You’re the working man’s glass. Literally, a tall drink of water and you know it. It feels good to be first. You get set out on coasters for dinner parties (unless they use the crystal – damn those crystal tumblers). No one ever goes thirsty in your presence. It doesn’t even matter how much the other glasses hold, it always looks like more in you.
Then there’s good ol’ half glass. Half glass is there in a pinch. Hero of cookies and milk. More of you get broken then the others even though you usually bounce when you inevitably get dropped. It’s a simple law of averages. Half glass is actually a misnomer since you can fill three quarters of a tumbler. You are well-respected but you know the tall one will always be first choice. That hurts. Sometimes they even call you short glass. Which is worse you can’t decide. Being stuck in the middle is trying to say the least. You wish people could see your capacity for whatever. You feel it must be your fault somehow that they don’t. You’re not a glass that gets decided upon much. Most of the time you’re just the default go to when all the talls go missing. You think the talls must really have it great down there on the bottom shelf where even the kids can reach. Maybe that’s the problem. Oh, who knows. You probably don’t deserve to be used any more than you are anyway. I mean, why raise your expectations only to get disappointed, right?
Now imagine you are the juice glass. Under used and under-appreciated, you rarely get taken from the top shelf unless there’s a shortage of both halves and talls. You think maybe people would use you more frequently if they didn’t have to stand on their toes to reach you. You never break though and you’re the only one still playing with a full set. You are silently revered as the sacred vessel of nectars and juices—the purest forms of liquid refreshment. Not so silently, you long to be appreciated for the jewel you are but somehow you never end up getting rinsed out and even the purest nectar leaves a ring way down deep where no one old enough to do the dishes can reach without a bottle brush and there haven’t been any of those around for years. You never feel quite as clean as the others. Good thing you know the etymology of “top shelf”. It keeps your spirits up. You fill exactly half of tumbler and three-quarters of short but no one seems to notice you’re easier to hold and drink from without ice spilling over or making milk mustaches.
Now imagine two glasses develop a relationship. Say one of the glasses is a tumbler and one is a short. If tall pours all it has into short what happens?
Does short drown in the excess or does he bask the over-abundance of whatever?
Does tall really want to pour her entire self into anything or should she save some whatever for herself?
Does half feel the need to fill tall to the rim?
Is a glass half full of another glass’s whatever every really satisfied?
Should juice glasses only mix with other juices? Shorts with shorts and talls with talls?
Does any of this matter if each glass is happy with whatever it holds?