The Touch

One of the three questions Lance wrote on the back of his "On The Road" business card was "How to assure happiness after 60." The old man sitting in the village green of the small town Lance was exploring, seemed wistful, wise and unafraid to venture into such a private matter with a total stranger. Although his first reaction was cautionary, as if to question the sincerity of this stranger's motive, but Lance quickly unveiled the whole story of his trip, its intent, and some of the advice he had heard from others. Apparently it was enough to satisfy the man, so after a minute of reflection, he began:

"I agree with what others have already told you. Stay active, pursue your dreams and pay attention to family. But there's something more, something no one ever talks about. Something equally life sustaining and yet so simple, it's almost invisible in our daily lives...at least until isn't there anymore. I don't know when it left my life. As a young man I was the kinda guy who reached out to most people easily, making friends and social relationships without even thinking, without trying to impress folks. I had plenty of girlfriends, two wives, lots of children, a passel of in-laws and good co-workers on the job.

I spent my whole life not just surrounded by, but engaged with hundreds of people. Their energy, their adventures, their dreams, even their failures sustained me whenever I felt inadequate. Our futures seemed inextricably bound together, so each day always began with a inexhaustible list of things to do, people to see, places to go. The importance of my being was validated in some small way by every person who ever greeted me, needed my help or wanted me as a friend. Even folks who were mad at me or just wanted to vent, gave momentary purpose to my life.

But I was always conscious of the physical space around me. It was a shell, permeable to sound and light. Looking out from within my shell, everything outside could have been a 3 D movie. I could watch and know things were happening around me. I knew it was all real. But unless someone broke the shell, now and then, with a gentle hand on my shoulder, a brief hug, a firm handshake, a soft kiss or simply held my hand once a day, I wasn't a whole person. You see, touching matters. And the older you get, the less you'll be touched. Just a single touch can be life-giving. Life without touch is hell.

Now, I don't believe in all that hocus pocus electricity in the hands stuff. And I'm not sayin' sexual intent is the point (though it can be healthy at regular intervals!) And, there certainly are plenty of people I have no interest in touching or being touched by in this world. Still, a physical touch is uniquely awakening to the soul. At it's least, it is irrefutable evidence we are still alive in the corporeal sense. It acknowledges our very being in direct relation to another living being. At it's best, it undeniably coveys a certain and reassuring trust between two people even words can't describe. It recharges our connection to the world and our
place in the present.

As I watched my father and mother lie dying, I knew the only connection they had left to life was the touch of my hand. Beyond sight, smell, and sound, touch speaks its own language of caring. And the absence of touch is an undeniable message in and of itself. As I watched my children grow up, they became increasingly reluctant to touch their parents, especially in the presence of others. As I watched couples fall in and then out of love, the first thing to go was touching. And the sad fact is, as people get older, they are touched less often, except out of pity or as a possession needing to be moved about. Sometimes, when there are no words, only a touch will do. No one doesn't need to be touched and no one can live without it.

It also matters who initiates the touch. Touching someone else is good, but being touched by someone is vital. Unfortunately we can't tactfully ask to be touched by others without appearing needy or profane. As a direct request, it almost sounds pathetic. Yet when someone we care about chooses to touch us, the message we get is one of respect, friendship, connection and is uniquely life-affirming. And the message we get when there is no touch by is distance, fear, alienation or apathy...the state of not caring. Even when drowned in eloquent words of gratitude or tribute, only meaning-filled, direct contact speaks pure truth.

So, pursue your hobbies, move to a warmer climate, work until you drop...but if you aren't touched and touching every day of your life, it all might just be a movie, my young friend."