This was sent to me by a friend who is becoming a close friend.....
Wednesday, July 20, 2011 (SF Gate)
Get over here and touch me now
By Mark Morford, SF Gate Columnist
Here's what I think. I think human touch is surely the most sublime
sensation/activity ever invented by ecstatically drunken gods as they
gently and ever so briefly encased us in these slippery filthy gorgeous
mortal fleshforms.
I think human touch, done with calm intention and conscious ease, is a
total life-affirming blessing of the most spiritually orgasmic kind,
healing and restorative and achingly transcendent in quiet but thoroughly
kaleidoscopic ways.
Furthermore, I think said touch is fundamental to basic survival in this
tragicomic, dirt-bound realm and if we go too long without it we will die
as without water or whisky or trees. Which is also why I fully believe its
general paucity in modern life is perhaps the single most unfortunate side
effect of the Facebook age.
I realize I might be unusual. I realize I might be odd to offer it up in
this way. I deeply acknowledge, furthermore, that there are a thousand
notable exceptions. But barring the relative handful of those who don't
understand personal space, who perhaps "overtouch," whose intentions are a
bit slimy or hostile, I would hereby like to be lightly and lovingly
touched at some point by everyone I ever know, meet, connect with, always
and forever, quite nearly without exception, and that very much means you.
I feel like I'm on the right path with this. But you never know.
Here's the fascinating thing: The science on the subject has barely been,
you know, touched upon. Research is only now coming to soft light that
reveals, say, a gentle touch on the arm is not only sorta nice -- it can,
in fact, change your entire body chemistry. Your viewpoint. Your world.
Such a touch can release tension. Relax muscles. Stop weeping. Start
weeping. Evoke worlds. Invite transcendence. Calm rage. Soften the heart.
Open the breath. Touch can alter temperaments and attitudes in an instant.
Babies love it. So do romantics, dogs, deities and saints, gurus and
wizened masters. An attentive touch carefully placed can pretty much calm
everyone the f--k down.
Thus spake a recent, fascinating little study: "Library users who are
touched while registering, rate the library and its personnel more
favorably than the non-touched; diners are more satisfied and give larger
tips when waiting staff touch them casually; people touched by a stranger
are more willing to perform a mundane favor; and women touched by a man on
the arm are more willing to share their phone number or agree to a dance."
So sayeth, elsewhere, one Dacher Keltner, psychologist from UC Berkeley
and specialist in the study of touch: "The science is showing that when I
receive a very friendly form of touch, it releases oxytocin, a
neuropeptide that promotes trust. It shuts down stress-related parts of
the brain like the amygdala, and the locus coeruleus, it activates a
branch of the nervous system we study called the vagus nerve, which is
involved in connection. And by the way, the vagus nerve controls your
immune system in part as well."
That's the budding science. In yoga philosophy, we might say it's all
connected to sliding into proper alignment with your true essence, your
core, the deeper self not made up of the ego's stories and cultural
constructs and insidious mind games.
We might also say: This deeper, essential you is most certainly not touch
averse, because that's impossible. After all, like craves like. Energy
craves energy. Prana (life force) flows to prana and if you have no idea
what I'm talking about just imagine your being is made of water and so is
everyone else's and what happens when one water droplet contacts another?
Right: An effortless, nearly instantaneous collapsing into a wondrous
megadroplet of wow because holy hell, what else is there? Why else are we
made of energy and electricity and sly consciousness if not to jack in to
the collective interpersonal mainframe all the damn time? But maybe that's
just me.
Perhaps you do not wish to hear it. Perhaps it makes you wince and roll
your eyes. Perhaps you know far too many people for whom just about any
kind of touch feels not just wrong, but slightly terrifying. Perhaps you
are one of these people yourself. They are not difficult to find. We are a
victim culture, we are a low-touch society; also, abuse is tragically
prevalent.
It might be one of the saddest and most distressing signs of our time that
so many are frightened of or even openly repulsed by simple touch, so many
who think soft, everyday human contact should be reserved only for close
family or the most intimate of connections, and even then it's a little
invasive and creepy if you don't ask permission or have a few drinks first
to numb it all out and make sure no one's trying to steal your kidney.
I think: how dour life must be for those who would not hesitate to report
their boss or barista if said person touched them on the arm without
formal authorization, legal disclaimer or safe word. How difficult the
days for those who associate even the lightest friendly (or even slightly
awkward, weird or undesirable) touch with abuse or sexual harassment, who
shudder when brushing against a stranger, who shrink down and small
themselves to avoid all forms of sweat and oil and germs, damage and pain
and oh my God get that thing away from me who do you think you are I'm
taking a shower and calling my therapist.
Religion is zero help. Conservatism, fear of Other, endless media lies
about predation, abduction, contagion, molestation all feed the anti-touch
beast. So ugly has it become that even Catholic priests are no longer
allowed to touch children without another adult in the room. So horrible
is our indoctrination that when we hear of anyone touching a child many of
us instantly flash to "child molester." How sad that, as a culture, touch
has come to mean violated boundaries, inappropriateness, provocation,
crossing some sort of line no one remembers drawing.
Which is partly why, at least here in the Bay Area, there are entire
workshops dedicated exclusively to touch, on re-learning how to gently
stroke your friend or lover into fits of sighs and ease and whoa, to the
point you can actually transform your entire relationship, all without
saying a word. I can't quite decide if the existence of such classes is
absolutely wonderful or sort of tragic. You're right: It's both.
It is perhaps the greatest myth, the most brutal lie ever foisted upon
mankind: that of separation. You are there and I am here and "god" is way,
way over there and no matter how hard we try and strive, we'll never fully
meet. We can never fully connect. Just the way it is.
What horses--t. In fact, it's exactly the other way around. We are already
deeply connected, de facto and a priori. We are of the same divine source
material. Disconnection, fracturing and disassociation is a learned
affliction. A disease. Chronic, epidemic, global.
But maybe with the right touch, at the right time, in the right moment,
the pandemic can dissolve in an instant. Touch me just that way, and
suddenly everything makes sense. All is right with the world. We are one.
Really, what else is there? (What is less or more than a touch?)
Mark Morford's latest book, 'The Daring Spectacle: Adventures in Deviant
Journalism,' is available at Amazon, BN.com, and beyond.
Join Mark on Facebook and Twitter, or email him. His website is markmorford.com.
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