It was a long time ago. My wife Jody and I were vacationing with her family in Kananaskis Country – a stunning part of the Rocky Mountains in Canada. Jody and I decided to stay at a bed and breakfast for a few days. Our hostess welcomed us so beautifully … lots of smiles and kindness.
The next morning I got up before Jody and headed down to the dining room for coffee. The hostess and I chatted about life for half an hour and then she needed to get started on breakfast. We both stood up. She moved towards me with open arms. We held each other for maybe a minute. That’s a very long hug. And it was such a sweet one – no patting, no crushing, just a gentle lingering.
The hug wasn’t sexual. It was sensual but also something way beyond that. I was transported to an unknown land that somehow I recognized. Time stopped.
Since that moment, I’ve never been hugged that way again. There have been some delightful slow ones, imbued with love, but the depth of that Rocky Mountain touch was unique. At least so far.
I love hugging. I love cuddling. When it’s quiet (physically and spiritually), something sublime has the space to come through.
About a month ago I started having a strange thought, one that each time has brought a smile to my face:
In my soul I could hug everything … and everyone
I could have a long slow hug with any of my emotions that I’ve called negative: fear, sadness, hurt, anger. I could draw them close rather than pushing them away. We could be friends. I could hug my mistakes, large and small. I could hug my body, which isn’t as fast or strong as it once was. I could hug my memory, which often forgets!
I could hug mean people, such as Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin. I won’t hug behaviour that is demeaning or violent, but what about the person who performs such acts?
I love sitting in a question, letting it roam around my insides for days or years. There’s so much that is mysterious. What are my possibilities? What are our possibilities?
Would you like to explore?