Monday, September 5, 2022

         I am constantly being touched, and I hope today I can be truly aware of it. For instance, air is continuously pressing lightly upon me, almost as though it’s encouraging me to wake up and stay alert to the beauties of my life. It has a light, brushing touch, which could be comforting to think of as I move through the day. Also, the small and large sounds of everyday life are always reaching out to touch me in a friendly way. As I’m writing, the dishwasher is making its soft, swishing music, sort of caressing the kitchen and the living room and me at my desk. The ticking of our pendulum clock is quietly tapping me to say hello, and even the tinnitus in my ears is just a gentle nudging, as though its sound is putting its hand out to stay in touch. And then – maybe best of all – there are thoughts inside me that are always stroking and tickling me with their various messages. But no – the very best of all is the touch of my wife’s hand as she passes me in the hall, helping me appreciate how two old people can come together – and touch – so beautifully. 

(about Bobby L., 37, Blessings, CT) 

One day he noticed the softest meetings 
between things - the way water from the 
faucet embraced the bowls and plates 
he was washing, the way the cream seemed 
to cuddle his coffee.  It was like all 
parts of life were soothingly stroking 
each other, staying in touch to be of 
assistance. Winds grazed across homes 
with sensitivity, sunshine swept 
understandingly through trees, and 
his thoughts kissed his life as they 
followed each other in friendship. 

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