Two or three fingertips press gently on my skin, just above my left hip, halfway between my hip an dry navel. Two or three others do the same on the outer edge of my right side waist. I am in a workout bra and leggings, and the skin-to-skin contact is like a jolt of electricity to my body. But not in a sexual way. It is in an empowering way, as though that contact literally has given my body more power.
We are at the gym, in the middle of the strength part of the workout, transitioning to the second half of the strength work. The hands of the fingers belong to a slightly older man who loves me, just as I am. I love him, too. He was gently preventing us from colliding as we passed one another, and several other people were suddenly right around us, doing the same thing, nearly running into one another. Everyone, of course, just barely misses collision, likely thanks to several hands gently guiding their owners and others away from one another. And, like I said, it wasn’t sexual, those fingertips on my skin. But it was certainly sensual, lighting me up with capability and power. I could feel the spots where they touched for hours afterward, continuously reaping further rewards from that small yet impactful energetic exchange. Thank you for the love, my body kept saying, almost like a mantra, both to me and to him. Thank you for that.
And, golly, it was wonderful. I am grateful. Thank you, God, and thank you , Universe. Please, continue to bless me with Your love, and continue to guide me to be Your love in the world. In Your name I pray. Amen.
(Barely got it!)