Feel the burn

Today, I got to spend some in-person one-on-one time with a dear friend of mine.  She and I have not spoken much lately, because, whenever we do talk, it usually lasts a couple hours or more, and I tend to think of calling her when it is a little too close to bedtime for such a long call.  And our schedules have been kind of opposite – I go to bed early, and she late – which hasn’t helped her be able to reach me either.  We just both accepted that we were in a bit of a scheduling break (break due to scheduling, that is).  

We used to spend at least one evening a week together, spending quality in-person time with one another and a few other good friends.  Then, we actually lived together.  And then I moved away, then back… the latter of which happened right before she moved away.  (Not too far, but far enough that even weekly hangouts were out of the question.  So, instead, we talk on the phone a lot, which is actually quite nice.

Anyway, today, we spent time together in person.  And it was amazing.

The other day, I had almost cried when someone held my hand – it was a surprise for me to have such a reaction, but it was an important but near-forgotten sensation from what feels like oh-so-long-ago.  I was nearly overwhelmed by the feeling, by the comforting warmth and pressure in just the right place.  Just as our hands were growing slightly damp in the middle, and my insides were breathing with pure comfort and delight at this specific, if odd, comfort from so many moments in my life, he dropped my hand.  Naturally, I went a bit crazy in my mind about the possibilities as to why he did that.  And I don’t just mean then. I mean mostly afterward, and borderline obsessively.  (Fortunately, I can acknowledge when it has been enough, and I can just let it all go, but I certainly allow myself to delve, if only for a short time.)  From a logic standpoint, it was likely due to the sweat that he dropped my hand, although it was because of the sweat that I was so filled.  

Nonetheless, as I considered this over the next couple days, I began to see how much I had not seen regarding my need for physical comfort.  My brain, body, and psyche need physical contact to survive, not just to thrive.  And I have been getting by on the absolute bare minimum lately, and so certainly not thriving.  Life has been just that much harder because of it.

And so, this evening, as that all was not news to this friend, I was given a good, solid rub-down.  Her strong, firm, warm hands placed intentional, loving pressure on my back, both massaging my muscles and giving me comfort.  Then she purposefully rubbed all along my arms and each finger, my neck and shoulders, and each leg.  I asked her to treat me like a dog, and give me a rub-down, and she did.  And it was extremely comforting at the time.  Then, further along in our hanging out together, rather than just giving hug after hug at things, we just sat together in an embrace, I somewhat in her lap, arms around her waist.  Her strong arms held me tight around my shoulders and back, as my head pressed against her upper chest, and she rested her chin atop my head.

When she had first arrived, there was no doubt in either of our minds that I was struggling.  I have a lot of things causing stress in my daily life at the moment – a lot.  And those things have begun taking a greater hold of my attention each day, as their volume and significance have increased.  Now, about to go to sleep, I don’t necessarily notice feeling any specific way, but that I notice a lack of something.  There is something gone that was previously here, weighing me down.  I am not tense and stress-y, clenching somehow with my whole being.  I am comfortably standing, wide-legged, shoulders totally chill and relaxed, breathing very calm and easy, all without effort.  Now, I am merely getting ready for bed.  I see those things that have been stressing me, but they are just something I see – they are not taking me over anymore.  I am breathing easily, without restriction or strain (that, though I could push through them, they certainly were there before).

And I can breathe, simply because my body can handle it all again.  My skin and muscles and hair follicles were rejuvenated by her hands and arms, and they are all breathing freely once again.  All because I got a rub-down.

It may sound silly, but there’s a reason that has become an actual job in some countries – people need it.  Remember, babies die without physical contact.  It’s a wonder we haven’t come up with something for this for people sooner, I suppose.

Man…

Post-a-day 2021

^Meh… got it, but had to consider

Let’s talk about sex (some more), baby

Somehow, I have found myself thinking about pornography lately.

And no, not in the sense of indulgence or grossness or anything like that.

In the sense of this question: How are people supposed to be exposed to the body, and to sexual interaction initially, to be informed on the subject and not have to be afraid of it all?

The unfortunate answer side seems to have only one measly answer: pornography.

And, while I very much dislike the intended use of pornography, I could understand it from an educational approach… well… the more vanilla side of it all, anyway.

It had me thinking how, in a traditional normal household, a child is somewhat likely, at least once in his life, to walk in on his parents having sex, right?

Right.

That exposure, to me, seems important and possibly necessary for that child.

However, I feel that that exposure alone is not enough for the child to develop a healthy relationship to the concept of sex.

How is he supposed to learn what a positive versus negative relationship with sex is?

How is he supposed to understand truly what is normal (and versus abnormal) for the human bodies of a male and female in the world of sexual interaction?

Many people, I suppose, would say that that‘s the whole point of someone’s first sexual interaction: awkward discovery.

(But many people don’t have that opportunity, and for many reasons…. It could be age difference, personality difference, an abuse history, or even fear of the whole thing…)

But what if it didn’t have to be like that most of the time, with so many people living in worry about getting it right or being good enough or knowing what to do or what is normal?

I’ve mentioned before about how these cave-people books talk about how certain women would be selected each summer to be the sexual guides for all the newly-established men of the tribes, and, when females were declared women, they would have a special ceremony, for which a specific man was selected to be the first sexual encounter for the newly-established woman.

No, they aren’t exactly the same approach, but they both have value, and I think a combination of them would be supremely valuable for a people as a whole.

What a beautiful way for people to learn the human body and sexual interaction in a healthy and loving way…

Granted, it only worked because the whole tribe would select carefully and consciously the people who would be the sexual guides, and there were various restrictions and rules about it all to keep everyone safe, both physically and emotionally/psychologically.

However, it worked beautifully, and everyone had a positive foundation in the realm of the human body and sexual encounters and relationships… they also knew when things were off, and were comfortable reaching out to others about it, because the body and sex were not taboo topics.

Hmm… anyway… just some thoughts… I don’t have plans to revolutionize the world with this, and I know it isn’t perfect, but I think it would be a great brainstorming start for our time in the world…

Post-a-day 2020