Touch

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Are you a touch-me-please or a touch-me-not?

Vice President Joe Biden has been in the news recently because he’s a handsy guy and he apparently smells women’s hair and some of the women are really uncomfortable with the whole thing.

And I have to say, the whole tenor of the news coverage leaves me…uncomfortable.

Full disclosure here. I’m a hugger.

Humans need touch. Babies who are left without cuddling fail to thrive. Scientists have studied hugs and they’ve found that hugs can affect your mood and your stress level in a positive way.

When you’ve had a tough time, hugs can heal when people just can’t find the right words. In fact, sometimes words do more damage because people say the wrong thing, or they try to fix the problem for you when all you want is empathy.

One immunologist says that our brains use physical experiences and objects as sort of memory anchors that affect us long into the future. They can be bad experiences, but the bonding ones – like hugs – affect us too.

Hugs can heal – but should we stop with all the hugging?

Of course, there are all kinds of reasons you might not like hugs. The hugger could be using the hug as a sort of power play—when the person doing the hugging is aggressive about it and uses  it to make the person being hugged feel powerless. Or maybe you’ve undergone a trauma. For someone who has been abused, a hug can feel like confinement.

So maybe we should never hug. Or maybe never hug in the workplace

Because my need to touch definitely does not trump your agency over your body. You are the boss of your body.

But touch is human. It’s an instinct we have from birth.

I don’t think you can penalize someone for that instinct.

And that brings me back to the whole Biden story.

Women who say they were uncomfortable with Biden’s handsy style – and he was handsy with everyone, by the way – men, women and children – have the right to be uncomfortable. For sure. But did they tell him? Or did they wince in silence and resent him all these years? If they told him and he continued…then yes, let’s condemn him. Or now that it’s been all over the news and he says he gets it…let’s see if he changes his behavior.

But I worry a little that, by framing these women as “victims,” we risk demonizing all human touch. And that risks isolating all of us on little islands of touch-me-not. Even if we desperately want or need that touch.

Listen to the companion podcast!

 

Human Touch

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Great to Good

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Tim Curry  supposedly said that the dreams of youth are the regrets of maturity.

I try not to have too many regrets, but sometimes it’s harder than others to stay juicy.

I recently turned 59. And something about realizing it was my last year before turning 60 made me reflective. The sixties are the decade of retirement and endings…I mean, I know in my head that’s not true, but that little negative voice popped up and said I’d better take stock of what I’ve done in life.

Or maybe it was the drivers’ license.

I live in South Carolina. In its wisdom, my state refused to make its drivers get the kind of license that the rest of the country uses because it’s hard to counterfeit, which I guess we need in this post-9/11 world. But South Carolina thumbed its nose at the Feds until it realized that meant we couldn’t travel without passports. So now we need to get new driver’s licenses.

It took forever and about 300 pieces of paper to prove I was who I said I was. The woman at the photo counter said I could take my glasses off. And I could smile. I had some witty quip. Don’t know what it was, but while I said it, my mouth fell open into a wide laugh, my eyes squinted, and my chin tucked, making about five extra chins. And, click! There’s your photo!

I look like a pasty pumpkin with raisin eyes.

Think I’m exaggerating? My husband looked at it and visibly shuddered.

Try living with THAT for 9 years when the thing expires!

So, of course, I obsessed and stared at the photo all the way home.

But what if it did? Photos don’t lie, right?

And if I’m wrong about the way I look, what else am I wrong about?

And then, I thought about the (very) long list of things I may never achieve:

  • Be a great dancer
  • Be a star athlete
  • Play the piano
  • Start a nonprofit
  • Run for office
  • Get my novel published

 

I am realizing that I will never be great. At anything. That being good – or even average — is going to have to be good enough.

Business books tell you how to go from good to great. I’m learning how to go from great to good.

But ultimately, I think I’d rather keep falling on my ass after the leap than sitting on my ass refusing to even try.

And that driver’s license? I got it retaken. And I did smile, but not the full-on chortle that brought out the extra chins. It’s not going to be on any magazine covers, but it’s not going to scare the children, either.

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Daydreaming youth