“The healing from touch is reciprocal.” This is one of the truths that has kept me in the field for 30 years. This is what I teach and know in my body, and heart. Receptivity to touching however is not always the loudest voice rolling through for me.
Recently, when asked to speak about receptivity to touch, I found myself in an interesting situation with a client that brought a lot of information forward for me.
Evelyn was in the hallway of the nursing home when I arrived. I went into the room and gathered my props for our session including my fold- up stool. Once back in the hallway I set the stool up next to Evelyn’s wheel chair. It was a day for neck and shoulders so I propped one of my feet up on the stool and this allowed me to come very close to the side of the chair. I was leaning against the chair and one of my arms was around Evelyn’s shoulders. My other hand was on Evelyn’s arm that was resting on the chair. This is a very comfortable, friendly position for me.
I began to stroke the opposite shoulder and the upper back. Evelyn brought her body close to the side of the chair and leaned her head onto my knee. Her arms held onto my calf.
This was comfortable. It felt intimate, yet safe..
Then Evelyn started to stroke slowly down my calf; first with one hand, and then the other. I received this with gratitude at first then watched as my mind drifted into the fear zone. My thoughts turned to, “Oh no, I hope no one is watching.”
I gave no outward signs of my mental discomfort.
“I want this to feel good for you too”, she said.
My mind grasped onto embarrassment. I wanted to end the session; tell Evelyn to not do that, and at the same time I noticed my body was receiving and trusting.
I had the opportunity to observe these two distinct factors in my ability to receive during the session.
I wanted to simply receive the touching with the vulnerability in which it was being delivered. I wanted to honor the innocence, and the bonding in the relationship.
I left the session feeling dishonest in my receptivity to Evelyn’s touch. My receptivity to my own process however, left me grateful. I had not shut down to myself and had stayed fully awake as an observer.
Touch has been so sexualized and exploited in our culture that it can be an intense challenge to recognize and receive the innocence of bonding in the act of touching.
Being receptive to the intimacy that develops when tenderly touching the dying, is an on going process for me in how to retain my humanness as a touch professional.
I would love to hear your stories and experiences in this area.
Blessings
Irene Smith www.everflowing.org
I have been a service provider for HIV/Aids clients for 10 years. And also treat critically ill hospitalized patients as well. Clearly, I have known since the beginning of my career, that my place is among the ill and injured souls. As such, I have been folllowing your column regularly. This recent one spoke to me because I often enough feel the same conflict receiving touch back from a client but generally let them anyway if it is appropriate. It’s a coincidence that I read your column today when I found myself in a similar position. This client with Aids came to see me today. As he was leaving he says to me, “I feel very close to you today. Can I give you a hug because I love you?” For a second I felt a little strange because in the 9 years he has been my client, I am the one who touches him. And all he usually says is thanks . Today I let him because I know that all those years I have treated him mean something to him. The best part of the whole story is that while he was having a 45 minute life changing massage, I am really thinking to myself,” I am doing quite an ordinary job, maybe not my best work”. It’s surprising that that, keeps me going.
Left by Riva Naimark on December 8th, 2010