LOVING TOUCH

I completely struggle through my awareness exercises.

How pretentious does that sound? Yikes. Let me rephrase: I have been reading this book about becoming more aware in your daily life, which for me means taking my head out of the clouds for long enough to realize that I'm doing something. Anything. I don't know, making 18 loaves of banana bread because I don't like to waste bananas. That doesn't make sense to you? Interesting. You must not live with monkeys.

I digress. See the importance of awareness exercises?

This week, the exercise was to use a "loving touch."

Huh?

The idea is that considering how you handle something with your hands demands awareness. Do you let things drop? Clang pots and pans? Grip things tightly? Or do you handle them gently, with love and respect?

I thought about this. I never really noticed how I handled things. This was Monday.

Tuesday morning, IV oddly slept in. I was up at my usual 5:45 AM, went to the kitchen and quietly began my morning: coffee, dog out, music, shower.

IV was still sleeping at 6:30...then 6:45...then 7 AM.

I unloaded the dishwasher. Careful to not clang the dishes together or make a bunch of racket. And it reminded me of when he was an infant, how I tiptoed around the house, making sure to not slam doors, drop things on the table, back when I used...a loving touch.

It was like a switch turned on. When IV was a baby, using a loving touch was easy and required no thought. Hands were gentle, not just on a baby, but on the baby's surroundings. I knew every squeaky step, every floorboard that would groan under my foot. I knew when the Fed Ex man delivered, careful to intercept him. I used a loving touch with my body and mind, not just my hands.

I explained this to JR last night after IV went to sleep and I swear, he probably thinks I need to be committed, or at least stop reading so many looney tunes books. But then I noticed that when he closed the cabinet doors, he did so gently, so that they didn't make a sound.

"LOVING TOUCH!" I said.

He rolled his eyes and smiled.

But it's true. I sit up straighter and loosen my grip on the steering wheel. I take a moment to put my phone down gently, not just drop it into the console of the car. I fold my napkin gently instead of tossing it on my table. And I realize that often, awareness is not in the result of your actions, but in the thought that leads to the action.

Stop. Pause. Change your action. Shift.

A shift.

It's the shift that makes all the difference.