Often the hands will solve a mystery

that the intellect has struggled with in vain.

Carl G. Jung

I have an obsession. It’s not a secret to those who know me or have been around me for any period of time. It’s something about which I read, practice, and luxuriate.

I love touch.

Lately, I have been reading book after book and article upon article about the benefits of being held. Did you know that you can regulate a baby’s heartbeat and bring more oxygen into their system simply by holding them skin to skin? Or, how about the ability to boundlessly thrive in animals who have mothers who hold them v. those who are fed but not cuddled? Do you remember a time being tremendously upset by something and a simple touch on the shoulder brought you to your knees in such release that you were able to breathe again? And let’s not overlook the intense pleasure and passion that ignites when your lover strokes the back of your neck just before a sweet kiss.

Touch intensifies everything. In fact, it’s how I knew I would marry my husband: from the first moment he touched me, he did so with his whole hand. It was such sweetness and such a sense of safety that I knew I was home. It was simply the bridge between my emotional self and my intellectual self – the marriage before the marriage, if you will.

Touch can be physical or emotional. Whichever it is, it can be piercing, yes? Here are some of my favorite touches:

• Nuzzling my baby’s barely-there neck and smothering it with kisses
• Spooning, early morning, with my husband
• Cuddling up with my preschooler and reading a silly book
• Receiving a hug from my mom – she has the most enveloping, soft, and complete embrace I’ve ever known
• Being licked by my ever-teething baby across my shoulders and jaw
• Touching my hands to my belly, ribs, and heart to feel my body breathe in quiet meditation

Tell me, how have you been touched lately?

Related posts:

1. It’s About Time.
2. mary, mary, quite contrary…
3. Kula.