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Touch Me

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When was the last time you were touched?
I’m not talking about a high five.
Or a brief hug.
Or the creepy guy on the subway.
I mean someone you love…
Caressing your hair.
Massaging your neck.
Or holding you in their arms.
Is there anything better?
Touch is as grounding as the earth itself.
A protection from the often-brutal world around us.
It softens us in the best ways possible.
Touch opens us up and allows us to let go.
Two months ago I was in a dark place.
Anxiety was getting the best of me.
I couldn’t figure out what was going on in my mind.
I was fighting with the guys more than usual.
And after one of those fights, I laid down alone on the couch in the basement.
Ammar came in.
He didn’t say a word.
Instead, he just laid down next to me.
He wrapped his arms around me and put his cheek on my heart.
And I sobbed.
For 20 minutes straight.
Neither of us spoke.
We just held on.
It’s these kind of moments that save us.

From all the stress, the self-doubt, the anxiety. 

From the outside world.

And most importantly, from ourselves.
Where everything is said but not a word is spoken.

It’s all just… implied.
Long hugs and hair strokes are as potent as medicine.

A holistic antidote to the disease of the mind.

They ground us if we have the courage to let them.

And oh, we must have the courage to let them.

Otherwise we’re just out here fighting to feel something



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