Reach out and touch someone

I wrote months ago about the class I attend on Thursday nights.  It's been a ragamuffin group of women, many who have since left and returned to a life of struggle, but there is a core group of us still there, still determined to do the work to get out of these stuck places in our lives.

At the end of the class last night, as we were closing, the two women leading went around and touched and hugged each of us.  I was aware as this was happening how as each woman was held, something in her broke. Tears that had been pushed to the back of her heart came spilling out. Tenderness broke into that jailed space of emotion and pulled it into the room to rest.

Most of us in the room are single mothers now.  It wasn't a prerequisite for the class, but I think that when your world falls apart and you are left standing in wreckage as the responsible parent, there comes a breaking point where you discover that you are not capable of doing all of the tasks at hand alone.  You either break, or you search for a place to teach you, heal you, show you that with God all things are truly possible.
While there are several women in the group who are still married, most of us live only with our children.
Living only with children means that there can be a great void in human touch. While I cuddle my children, and get kisses and hugs and even a child in bed with me often, I only get hugs from adults when I am with friends.  I know I am incredibly blessed as I have several good friends who pull me in close and don't immediately withdraw their safe harbor from me.  Friends who will allow my breathing to slow a bit, for me to take a moment to feel the love pouring from them, a moment where they use their own hearts and spirits to absorb some of the weight of my sadness or weariness.  But I know that some of the women in my group don't have that. They are literally starving for human touch in the form of an adult.

There is something powerful in touch. Something sacred in taking the moment to allow your body to touch someone else's, to invade their personal bubble.  There is something other-wordly in allowing your safe harbor to take on some of the weight of their daily stress, something precious that happens when you stop for just a moment and pull them in close, allowing their body to sag into yours showing them they are loved, safe, revered, and remembered. The spirit responds to that, which is why each woman broke into tears rainbowed by smiles.  We need this touch, we need the steady arms of someone who cares to brace us up with their strength even if only for a few moments, to remind our very beings that we are not alone in this life.
I am more aware now of the people around me who need this, and I am determined to be mindful of this going forward. There is healing in touch, and a strong hug has the power to stitch up places that are hanging ragged and torn. We need one another, not just in word, but in deed. Find someone who needs your safe space and offer it to them when you can. It's a gift many of us so desperately need.