touch

I have to take a break from writing about skin to explore the sense of touch more deeply.

The author I am reading spends a good 20 pages talking about how important touch is for primate species, including us. Especially us.

"The ends of primate fingers and toes are expanded into large, volumptous digital pads that house sensory nerve endings..."

She makes a direct tie between physical "feeling" and emotional "feeling", showing how important it is to be touched- when we are little, to grow



and as we get older- to calm down, to have a sense of well-being. I forget that. I forget the sense of touch. My fingertips are seldom used to explore- they are simply tools to hammer out my papers, turn pages in my books. I hear music but I forget that my earphones are making the sensitive skin right inside my ear vibrate. I can feel that when I think about it. It's part of what makes Radiohead's song 'Idioteque' so good.

I'm not used to touch, outside of American sanctified realms, which is, like Porter's quote illustrates, seldom- often simply connected to sexual intentions. To even have someone touch my arm makes me jump a little. It's sad really. I notice when I study, I use it to concentrate, focusing best in places where I can contort, stretch, flip upside-down and experience something in my body. It's why I like yoga- an inner touch- and why I hold my thermarest pillow when I sleep... and why I play with my hair a lot. But I don't intentionally experience it in everyday interactions with my fellow humans.

What happens if I change that? If I hug a stranger? Or touch my friend on the shoulder when we're talking? Pat someone on the back for encouragement? Can I start stepping outside this cultural realm and sharing this healthy experience with others? Huh.