I’ve never been a big hugger. I like my space, and I’m not much for people– outside of my very tiny circle–touching me. But for the huggers out there, this pandemic has been a nightmare.
I know…because I’ve actually felt the itch to touch people–outside of my very tiny circle. And if I have felt it, mindlessly attempted, and then recoiled in disappointment and confusion…what must those poor huggers be going through??!! Poor dears.
I joke. But honestly, even though I’m not a hugger, it doesn’t mean I don’t love hugs. They are a powerful form of touch, and require so little.
“A hug at the right moment and a kind shoulder to lean on, Is the sprinkle of magic that keeps us walking towards hope.” – Mimi Novic
Every single night before my son goes to bed, we hug. Even though he’s a teenager now…even though he’s taller than me. And I’ll keep doing it until it makes him uncomfortable…which may be never, because it’s just always been what we do. My family wasn’t physically demonstrative when I was young. Even though I knew they loved me, and we were close, hugs just weren’t a normal routine for us. I wanted that to be different with my son, so…it’s just always been. He’s a lot like me…not terribly physical with those outside our family (other than in sports). But, with mom and dad…there are always hugs.
“Millions and millions of years would still not give me half enough time to describe that tiny instant of all eternity when you put your arms around me and I put my arms around you.” – Jacques Prevert
Hugs also provide comfort and closeness between my Husband and I. I snuggle against Him every night on the couch, squeezing Him periodically. With each compression, a wave of “feel good” warmth rushes through me…a hit of oxytocin.
In bed, before we go to sleep, He wraps His body around mine, skin against skin, and squeezes. It signals all is right. Our breath finds its rhythm, and our heartbeats follow.
And when the world is crashing down, and I am spinning out of control, His arms wrap around me, stilling me…calming the tornado of emotions within.
We don’t always hug long or hard. But those types of hugs are healing. They bring forth a deep sigh, slow the breath, dim the mind. And when I breathe back in, I breathe in His scent, and something primal and ancient happens, as we connect, bodily.
I do love a good hug…from the right person…at the right time. And even though I’m not “a hugger,” I feel those of you who are, and I empathize with your current plight. Hopefully someday soon you can all go back to making people like me uncomfortable with your exuberant comings and goings.
Today is National Hugging Day. How will you celebrate?