Put the Glass Down

A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face she inquired, “How heavy is this glass of water?” The answers called out ranged from 8 oz to 20 oz. She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stress and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them for a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.” Always remember to put the glass down.

love (/ləv/) noun:

an intense feeling of deep affection

or

The way I fall asleep while you read to me; how when anything happens, I want to tell you first. The nights when my head aches and my shoulders are sore, but you say something ridiculous and you burst into song and I laugh until I forget about how I hurt. How I want to know everything about you: your favorite place to go, the worst day, your dream job, the most disgusting thing you’ve ever had to eat, what you’d want your last meal to be, your routine before you go to sleep, the brand of shampoo you use and how often you shave. Did your mother teach you because your father left; or did you teach yourself? The way I want to thank your mother for raising the best man I know, the way I hope your father knows he missed out on seeing the man you are today. It’s the way you touch the small of my back and the way we talk about living on mars one day so we can really see the stars.

or

A person or thing that one loves. (see beloved, loved one; ‘she was the love of his life’)

or

Your hands and eyes, the smell of your skin against mine, the way you carry on a joke for too long and the way you explain yourself when I tilt my head at you. The way you talk about what you love to do, the way you say you love me. The sound of your voice over the telephone, even better the sound of your voice next to my ear. The smell of your shirt in my bed, the way I sleep a little better lately, the way I light up when I say your name, the way I say it every chance I get.

or

The way I finally understand what people mean when they say “I’d miss you even if I never  met you”. The way I finally understand what home is.