The intimacy of touch is something that has been on my heart lately.... not in a sexy way, but in the Shakespearean literal palm to palm praying hand to hand way.
I’ve been inviting students lately to *feel* their way into their practice. To let their hands take the time it takes to meet their tools...meet their bodies...meet each other.
We forget so often the power of touch. The gift it is to come into contact with another... with our cards and crystals and books and cats and lovers and food and keys and garbage...
...all the stories and miles that pass through our fingers without us even saying hello...or thank you.
And in this time when we cannot touch, in what other ways are we keeping ourselves from feeling?
What are we reaching for? What do we miss?
And more importantly maybe, what are we allowing ourselves to *truly* come into contact with? Is it anything or are we living in a space of deficit because it’s easier...because it’s everywhere.
There is always a hand somewhere, I truly believe that. And even if we can’t home it, the spaces between us are also alive and active and magic... what we infuse into those untouched but so reached for spaces is just as powerful.
Just some late night musings from my little hand to y’all. Happy almost solstice!
-N
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