...Have you had your daily hug?

 

Her voice was soft and tender; they looked into each other’s eyes when I heard her say, “Walter, am I your bliss?” My cousin didn’t know I was around the corner when she said this to her spouse of fifty-five years. “Always,” he whispered back, confirming it with a gentle kiss. These two very special people hold hands wherever they go even if it’s in their garden. If they sit at the table over a morning cup of coffee, Walt will instinctively reach for Fran’s hand and pat it lovingly. And, the affectionate fixation of their eyes on each other over a shared Frosty, I know they see themselves as forever young.

I think it’s just amazing how a simple loving touch could effect change and could make the world a better place. My cousin also practices reiki healing. She is teaching me how essential touch, and the energy from touch has in healing properties. I have always realized how touch affects me and therefore, I have become a hugging type of person. I’m not a hug-a-holic mind you, and yes, I try to size up the person beforehand, body language being the usual indicator if someone is a willing recipient, or if they stiffly straighten their transparent, “Don’t touch me,” sign. Once, there was a particularly awkward moment (fortunately, I can only think of one), that I have ever been told by a relative, they didn’t liked to be hugged, “Not by anyone!” (My internal reaction was, “Exxccccuuuuuusssse me! What kind of a butthead doesn’t like to be touched?”) But, I politely apologized, smiled, and extended my hand, which was accepted with a hearty handshake. Whew!

Hugging, for me was a gradual transformation. My mother was a very affectionate person and when I was a teenager, I wanted to break loose of that bond, you know, the independence thing. One snowy afternoon, my sister, my mom, and myself were dancing and goofing around in our living room, when all of a sudden mom put a bear hug on me. My first reaction was to push her away, and out of my fifteen-year-old big mouth, I lashed back by calling her a queer. The words were out, too late to take them back, and to this day, I will never forget the shocked look on her face. I made her cry. Instead of saying I was sorry, I too, was shocked what came out of my mouth and ran to my room slamming the door behind me in shame. Today, I look back at that spiteful incident, and know it was an outburst of rage prompted by a prior unresolved incident. Unfortunately, I took it out on the wrong person. Several years went by after that adolescent eruption, I never apologized to my mother until a couple months before she passed away, when I laid next to her on her bed with her arms around me, and this time, we both cried.

The older I get, I have noticed how skin hunger/touch in any form is a sad, growing epidemic in our society. The elderly and disabled are at the greatest risk of being neglected, due to living in isolated homes and do not venture far from home from fear of victimization. Families are living further away in different states or countries keeping them from being close to their loved ones.

I read recently that the United States is known for being one of the lowest on the scale of touch or intimacy, and blames it on three trends. The first being technology. Yes, we can communicate with anyone at any time around the world, but it also dehumanizes physical interaction. Secondly, families live disconnected lifestyles because of urbanization and the loss of extended family. More families include careers for both parents, leading to less interaction with children. Children are taken to daycares in lieu of having a grandparent care for the child. Third, we live in an extremely litigious society, where touching someone can be deemed sexual harassment.

It’s hard for me to believe the United States rates at the bottom of the list when we have come to recognize the human touch as a healing mechanism. The healing-touch can be found in therapeutic massages, the most well-known and accepted method of healing sore and injured muscles. It is also known for reducing overall pain and engendering a feeling of relaxation and spiritual well being in the receiver. And, for those suffering from skin hunger, a massage may satisfy cravings. People live longer and happier lives if they receive a warm touch from a friend every now and then. A pat on the pack, squeeze of the hand, or a gentle hug can heal ailments and make both you and recipient happier.

Your hands are your body's second eyes, they allow you to experience and interact with the world. Through your hands, touch is sight. It allows you to perceive texture, shape, and form. Touch is important for survival. When a baby arrives into a strange world, he or she makes sense of our surroundings through our skins. An affectionate touch told us the world is safe, secure and a warm place to live, much like our mother’s uterus. Touch comforts us physically and mentally. Touch is the first sense to develop in the womb and the last sense to leave in old age. I don’t know who it was that stated human beings need four hugs a day for survival, eight hugs a day for maintenance and twelve hugs a day for growth, but, I tried to enforce it with my kids and I thank God they never pulled away!

Touch is a fundamental requirement of life, and I hope if you’re reading this, you will reach out and give your loved ones their required amount of hugs for the day! Just think of it as another essence and quintessence of life!

May the good Lord take a likin’ to you today and bestow you with many hugs!

...Morning Coffee...

Thirty years ago, I would have never (and I mean that with a capital ‘N’) done what I do now most mornings. For example, I would have never sat and contemplated the world through a picture window. There wasn’t any time for such idle nonsense. What I would do is check the thermometer, looked to the sky for rain clouds and drink my coffee while putting my makeup on. I would have been speeding around the house like Speedy Gonzales, getting ready for work, putting a load of wash in, making lunches, eating on the run, and rushing around during morning rush hour shuttling kids off to school before the daily commute to my 9 to 5. All of this, I did before I took my first breath of fresh air!

If someone told me back then, I would be sitting at my dining room table drinking coffee out of a coffee mug large enough to be a cereal bowl and watching a variety of birds coming and going as they build their nests and forging for food in my backyard, frankly, I would have said, “Yeah, right, in my dreams!” That dream was like all the rest I had...it wasn’t going to happen any time soon!

This morning instead of reading or writing I took my bowl-sized cup of coffee outside and watched, and listened to nature in and around my little world. Once I managed to block out the usual sounds of daily commuters, I focused on the wonders going on in my own backyard and how it applies to the world in which we live. The ants were marching one by one, collectively working together to support the colony. Inchworms were measuring the Marigolds (really, they were...I have Marigolds in the flower garden). Social butterflies flitting around flower to flower. Blue Jays, Robins, Morning Doves, Wrens, Hummingbirds, Blackbirds, and Cardinals feeding on the abundance of seeds, bugs, and acorns that our yard provides. All of them minding their own business, except for the pesky mosquitoes and flies, which are not prejudice who or what they irritate. And lastly, no matter how many times we’ve tried to discourage the squirrels from digging up my bulbs, they sneak around and loot the garden with the quickness of a thief. 

By no means am I an expert on this subject, and it doesn’t take someone with the intelligence of Einstein to observe how human and animal social structures interrelate. We interact with a variety of similarities, the obvious being, to live we need oxygen and nourishment, but what is similar is how practical attempts to survive on a daily basis are solved. I believe this is starting to sound like a term paper, so the best thing for me to do is back up, punt, and get back to the simplistic ponderings I started to write about. Recently, it’s been pointed out to me how easily I can get off track and wonder if it’s a medical thing…yikes!

Returning to my harmonious moment in the backyard garden, the similarities I saw were; social groups, employees, families, homemakers, thieves, home wreckers, racism, acceptance, and to sum it up, an industrial nation of living creatures making their way to survive in the world. I am saddened when I hear of a senseless act of violence on TV, and wake the next morning to find a pile of feathers, knowing an innocent little life was lost to a predator. I am filled with joy when I hear the newly hatched nestlings being fed by their nurturing parents. I am angry when a flock of Crows scares off the other birds or raids a nest. I am satisfied when the Red Tailed Hawk runs the Crows out of its territory with the precision of a fighter jet.

Off in the distance the sound of a train whistle echoed, taking my mind back to a different time. A reminder when my life was filled fulfilled with simple pleasures, like the smell of Lilies of the Valley and Lilacs. Searching for the elusive four-leaf clover and making clover necklaces, Kool-Aid tea parties and running through a sprinkler. When was the last time you poured yourself a generous cup of coffee or tea and listened (I mean really listen), to the great symphony nature performs for free?

Enjoy your day with peace and love…

...Pondering About Change...

“We are taught you must blame your father, your sisters, your brothers, the school, the teachers - but never blame yourself. It's never your fault. But it's always your fault, because if you wanted to change you're the one who has got to change.” ~Katherine Hepburn, Me: Stories of My Life

“They say a leopard doesn’t change his spots; do you think that people ever really change the way they are?” This was the topic of a few conversations I’ve had recently. These are a few more responses I heard, “The only time in the lifetime you can change someone is when they are in diapers.” Another one was, “People don’t change, they redirect, i.e. a recovering alcoholic is still an alcoholic, they are just redirected.” And another response, “Change is much easier if one is motivated to change. If one is unmotivated, it is difficult, if not impossible, to force a change just because you want it to happen.” This question usually pops up when someone is frustrated with another’s behavior and has “tried everything” to get that person to change his ways. When nothing makes an impact, the pessimistic conclusion is that change is not possible.

In my opinion, for what it’s worth, there is truth in each one of these statements. I’m not sure if I entirely believe in the first response, but it did make me laugh. I believe the second statement is more accurate. Change doesn’t take place magically like it does in fairy tales. Sure, you can fantasize that people can change their habits the way they change their clothes. Just do it! Snap out of it! Out with the old and in with the new. Kiss a toad and find a prince. Sorry, this is not the way change works in the real world. Someone can't change if they can't see themselves doing anything wrong. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

I believe people can change, but I believe change takes time. From my personal observation, change that lasts precipitates from a crisis or some earth shattering epiphany and it doesn’t always include certain character traits. You have to feel it in your marrow before real true change can happen. When change happens quickly, I’m not certain it rarely lasts. It’s exhilarating when someone is stimulated by a motivational speaker or captivated with the achievements of reality show contestants, or even momentarily electrified by a spiritual leader. I know, because I have felt those temporary sensations. They are great ways to jumpstart change. But I also know that meaningful change, like honesty, love, and trust, must survive the test of time.

At times, I have thought that a narcissistic personality prohibits a person from truly changing. I discussed this notion with a “professional” and he confirmed much of my thinking is true by enlisting these following comments: “Narcissists seek out relationships that will feed their ego. People in their lives are treated as extensions of themselves. Whatever they want, the other person should want. Narcissists can, at times, by quite generous with others. Their generosity, however, has to feed their ego and their sense of importance. Narcissists need continuous validation from others to feel good about themselves. Feeling empty on the inside, they have an insatiable need for praise and acknowledgment from the outside, and show little empathy for others. Looking at a situation from a different viewpoint is either foreign to them or is shrugged off as unimportant.”

Yes, this was a fascinating conversation, which makes me ponder the phenomenal success of social networking websites. We show others our narcissist tendencies when we feel the need to post something about our lives (which I’m guilty of) and wait for others to “like” or “comment” on our statuses. We look for those we lost touch with until our eyes bleed, the jock, the cheerleader the most likely and the less likely to succeed, the old lover, the nerd, and of course, our childhood friends. We continue to judge them by the content of their posts, only to discover, in our minds, some of them have never changed. So, why do we continue to be voyeurs and continually visit their profiles to validate our suspicions? The answer…the need to know is inherent of human nature, and to prove without a doubt our suspicions were right. After Harry left Sally, what became of him and had he changed his cheating ways? Who did Sally marry after the break up? Our feelings, our lives, our children’s and our grandchildren’s lives are displayed for John and Jane Q World to see and interact with. While we are looking at them to see if they changed, they are looking back at us. Did we measure up to their expectations? Scary isn’t it? Then you wonder about change…

...I Believe in Angels...

I sit here gazing at a blank page. The page is blank, but my thoughts are not. I have the urgent need to express some of them, but don’t know exactly where to start. I like being so consumed by an activity that my feelings about whatever I am thinking becomes a reality (well, eventually).

I planned to mow the grass, but the dew is still heavy. Instead, I decided to pull weeds on this cool Spring morning. About a half hour into weeding, I happened to look up to the sky when I heard the rumble of a large transport plane heading north. My first thought as I curiously watched the plane, was Tattoo standing next to Mr. Roarke. He was pointing to the eternal blue sky over Fantasy Island informing his boss he saw, “Da plane, da plane.” Then as quick as my jumbled up thoughts about an old television show left my mind, my thoughts drifted to angels. It was no surprise to me to be thinking of angels when I saw the military aircraft, and I couldn’t help but say a short prayer asking God to protect our men and women serving in the military, especially my nephew.  

When I look to the sky, somewhere amongst my thoughts is always God and His wondrous creations, and how very fortunate we are to be a part of His plan. I also relate the level of clouds to the nine celestial hierarchies of Angels. I attended Catholic school, and was utterly fascinated by angels. We didn’t learn as much as I would have liked, so I studied about them on my own, Seraphim, Cherubim, Orpanim, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities (prince of angels), Powers, Archangels, and Angels (our guardian angel). I was taught at an early age, God assigns one guardian angel to each person as a spiritual friend for the person’s entire life on Earth. From the moment we are born, to the day we die, we are surrounded by their watchful care and intercession. Beside each believer stands an angel as protector and shepherd leading that person to eternal life.

Back then, that was a lot of information for a young mind to ponder. It disturbed me knowing an unseen entity is watching over my every move, like dressing, bathing and going to the bathroom (yes, these are things kids think about). I eventually got over musing about those trivial events and wondered if intuition was actually my guardian angel talking to me through subliminal messages, or thoughts. In my mind it was, and therefore, I took heed of most of those messages. Several times, I avoided accidents or something told me not to do what I really wanted to do, making me a believer in “trust your gut.” I have also heard that angels are thoughts or messages from God. Yes, there is much to be said about the subject of angels, far more than I am educated to write about. I never studied Theology and can only express what I believe in and have experienced. And, this is what I believe about angels.

I believe we see an angel in every child’s face.  

How can you not believe in angels when you hear a children’s choir?

I believe my friend when she says Seraphim has comforted her after the loss of her husband.

I believe the look of serenity on my mother's and my mother-in-law’s face before they passed away was due to their angels taking them to their eternal home.

I believe angles help our friends lift us up in times of need.

I believe that if an atheist makes snow angels, they believe.

I believe my brother felt the kiss of an angel as a child.

I believe an angel was with me when I miscarried.

I believe an angel called my name. It was loud, clear, and unmistakenable.

I believe you experience their presence in music, scents, and in the splendor of nature.

I believe if you believe in God, you believe in angels. 

This is an example how my son became a true believer. A few years ago a call came into our local 911 area, a homeless drug addict had overdosed. The paramedics on scene hooked the leads up to the patient to measure the electrical activity of his heart, and before they reached the hospital the man flat-lined. The attending medics were able to shock the heart back to life by administering medication. The diagnostic tool (EKG) recorded a series of abnormalities on the graph paper after they got a pulse, which clearly looked like the outline of an angel. When the ambulance arrived at the hospital the man who was not restrained, sat up, insisted on not being treated, and literally walked away. I saw the diagram my son printed out and it was like nothing I have ever seen. The tape was sent to the medical university to be studied after the equipment was thoroughly checked out. The anomaly was written about in medical publications to which no one has an answer to what exactly happened in the ambulance that day. The consensus among the paramedics was to accept the unexplained, and believe, that angels do indeed, exist.