Mindful-fun-da-mentals

Explorations of mind, paths, and life

Driveway Thoughts

Posted on March 18, 2009 - Filed Under self reflect

I went to my friend and healer today, and in that time I began to understand something about myself I hadn’t quite noticed before. Honestly, it is amazing how many things I learn about myself on an ongoing basis each week, and who knows how much of it I retain, because most of it is caught up in experiences or discussions, and then plowed over by the glut of meaningless tasks and mindless chatter that envelope life in general. I tried, with wild effort, to audio-blog while I drove in the car, but to no avail, I was left with nothing and had to carry my thoughts by a thread the rest of the day until I could sit and write. What an effort that is…

I guess I believed that I really wasn’t a “touchy-feely” type person. Perhaps the many ways I have numbed myself over the last few years (and I say this from a place that has never included drugs or alcohol) have left me isolated from the sense of contentment from making physical connections with others. The blessing of having our pup, Gizmo, whose ears are the softest I have ever known on a dog, and his incessant need to be on my lap or near me has gotten me in contact with this part of myself without really realizing it. Lately the subtle power of physical touch on emotion and my sense of being is becoming blatantly obvious to me in small expeirences I have just started situating in a more conscious way.

I remember when I was single parenting, with Little JP toddling around our home in all his baby-skinned glory, I loved the moments in which he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his soft cheeks to my skin as if I was the softest blankie in the world. And, there were evenings, JP fast asleep in our home, that I would wander downstairs to my neighbor’s condo, knock on his door, and just ask to be hugged, not for any sexual need but simply to feel and breathe the connection I didn’t have in my life other than the little being who occupied my days. My friend John Montemerlo, an artist and painter, would let me in to just talk and connect. Hugs were short lived, but for a moment I could draw in the smell of another human and the warmth and energy of something touching my skin that wasn’t clothing or my own sense of being.

This last month has been filled with similar experiences, but they have landed with confusion on my mind, until this afternoon. One of the reasons I think that I continue to go to P3, now that I think of it, is the layers of human contact that swathes me over during those 3 long days. It is an open forum to request hugs, accept connection, or simply lean on or touch complete strangers who walk with similar stories and struggles. In that environment it is powerful and sometimes overwhelming.

So as my friend Todd, in an effort to help me sort out all the crazy stuff that seems to errupt with my health (and disoriented chakras), placed his hand on my forehead, and another on my belly, and the warmth of his hands began to seep through my skin into my core, I was awash with emotions that I curiously labored to sort out. Although my thoughts went to all kinds of places, I came to know that I simply feel more grounded when I am not the only being in the physical realm of my “Self.” Touch has the power to make me notice who I am, how I feel, and the quiet call for feeling deeply supported. It also makes me more aware of others and their energy as it blends with mine.

I think that touch is not unlike eating a piece of chocolate, or sitting in the sunshine or under the stars, with my whole body feeling itself held by the earth. When JP offers me a hug, or a goodnight kiss, I am aware of a part of me that simply drinks in the smell of my teenager, of the feel of his arms and skin and that quiet radiating love he gives me in that brief moment in which HIS space is MY space.

And yet, we wander around in our busy lives, bumping into each other or shaking hands, with little regard or awareness of the other. What do those hands feel like? What is that energy really like? I believe if only we “felt” more there would be a lot less depression and anger.

In another moment, my big-brown-eyed Michelle goddess, in all her bubbly energy, spontaneously seizing hugs and affectionate Latina pecks on my cheek, enthused the awareness that making positive connections with this wildly amazing woman is just as needed in my effort to connect with myself. My blossoming relationship with her taught me how necessary it is to know others by touch and tenderness. It is an affirmation, a gentle way of saying, “You exist… you matter.”

And fondly, in the connections I allow with my MHA – and I say allow, because there are many meanings in the connections with him than in those with others, simply by the nature of our relationship and commitment, and a lot that I think I waver from. We recently had a conversation about “depth” – and I leave you to imagine all the ins-and-outs of that – but I have been pondering the conversation simply because of the disappointment in his eyes when I talk about what I “Grok” and what he believes he doesn’t “feel” or sense. I think that he carries that depth in his ability to connect on a sensual level, in ways that are very deeply connected, and sometimes even frightning to me due to the level of vulnerability I entrust to him while planted in his energy. To that, I think there are many lessons I have to learn from him.

All this, driving along… thoughts going…. power of touch… carrying the warmth of a hand on my forehead… or an ice cube easing sinus pressure – held by another… the smell of another human when close enough to feel his or her breath… and the pulsing of a heart… and knowing that I exist…. I matter...

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