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About a year ago, I drove out to visit my friend Brent. Our plan was we’d go out to dinner somewhere, I’d stay overnight and take off first thing in the morning for a business meeting close by. Brent and I have always had a physically affectionate relationship. We’ve never dated or had any kind of sexual exchange, but our friendship is layered with affectionate touch. We hug and hold each other freely.

When I saw Brent, I could tell he was having a rough time. He was feeling somewhat depressed, down on himself, and unhappily single. The sadness was so palpable I could see it in his body. We were sitting side by side in a park and I couldn’t resist putting my arm around him as he was sharing, pulling him closer, trying to lend some support with my body as well as my ears. Later that night, as we were both lying side by side on his bed while he continued to share,  I just rolled over and took him in my arms, and we fell asleep that way. I took off early the next morning.

Later that week, Brent had his first date with Kurt, who, it turns out, has been his boyfriend every since. And while that’s not the only thing that has contributed to Brent being much, much happier, it certainly hasn’t hurt. I still haven’t met Kurt, but I was happy to run into Brent a few weeks ago, and I was surprised, but happy, about what he said when he saw me.

“You know, last year, our visit was exactly four days before I met Kurt, and there was something about spending that physical time with you and being held by you where I felt like you made it safe for me to open up. I was constricted and closed, the way a clam closes up when there’s danger, and after you left I felt opened up again. And when I went out with Kurt, I was open. If I hadn’t seen you, if you hadn’t held me, I’m not so sure Kurt and I would be together. I’m not sure I would have been in the right space for that to happen. So I feel like you had something to do with that.”

The very same day, I got an e-mail from a Touch Practice partner from Santa Barbara. (I’ve learned there are no coincidences, and timing is everything.) Dan wrote me to tell me some of his reactions to his first-ever Touch Practice, and closed by saying, “The next person who touches me like that, I’m probably going to fall in love with. It just left me feeling so open, so available.” So connecting the dots, that was my sign that this was today’s blog topic.

How do we make ourselves available for relationship? How do we know when others are available, and when they’re not? What happens when we want to be available, but somehow we’re not–we’re either not ready yet, or we’re unwittingly giving off signals saying, “sorry, I’m not free right now.” How do we send the right signals, and how do we read the signals others are sending?

I have more questions than answers about this, but consider these. Think about the subtleties involved just in a common event, let’s say a business-related party, one where you don’t know most of the folks. You walk in, you’ve got your drink, and there’s a big sea of faces in front of you. Some of those people are already in clusters having animated conversations with each other: “not available.” Some of the people are free agents, hanging out–but notice all the signals. One meets your eye contact and very quickly turns her head and marches off towards the salted nuts. Someone else gives you a little smile and a quick nod (“available”.)

You can spend about 30 seconds in a situation like that and, if you notice carefully, you’ll probably exchange “available/not available” information with, oh, perhaps a half dozen people in that short amount of time. It’s like planes broadcasting on a transponder; we’re sending out signals on a frequency everyone is tuned in to, exchanging data constantly.

Making ourselves available (think about the party scenario) involves risk. It can be scary. What if I make eye contact with someone and they turn and run for the salted nuts? It takes some confidence and self-talk (“that’s fine; there’s lots of people at the party, SOMEONE will be interested in talking to me, it’s just a matter of finding that person.”)  And, it involves practice. Remember (if you can) the first time you made “cold” conversation at a party, years ago, and how you handle it now. If you’re acquiring skill, it gets easier, and you get more effective at it.

Making ourselves available for intimate relationships involves more risk. A lot more. And lots and lots of practice. If we get hurt too much or take too much risk, we can snap closed like a clam, I think. It gets hard to open, after that. Sometimes we have to stay closed and do internal work, work “inside the clam shell” before it becomes time to open again. That work involves self-acceptance and self-affirmation (so that if we meet with non-acceptance or non-affirmation from others, it’s ok; we have the resilience to bounce back and keep going.)

But of course, going out in public with the clamshell closed, self-protecting, as necessary as it can be, is the equivalent of wearing a “not available” sign around the neck. So there become times when a conscious decision, or conscious practice, to “open” becomes necessary when we choose to take a step towards relationship, especially close relationship.

Friendships are one of the places we can do that. Practicing really opening ourselves up to friends can feel safer, less risky, less dangerous, than “cold conversation” at a party, and certainly less dangerous than dating.

As with most spiritual work, our work can be done on a psychological, emotional, or physical plane, as well as others. Work can be done in different parts of the “energy bodies,” and even in different parts of our time bodies. Touch Practice, in a group (or partnership) of conscientious and skilled people, can be a place to practice making ourselves open and available to others working in the physical/body realm. A huge part of the practice is practicing being open to each other, being available to and for each other. Allowing yourself to be held is a way of acting out availability; making yourself available to hold someone is another expression of that.

For those who aren’t ready to open the “clam shell” up yet, yoga can be a great way to be in our own bodies, with ourselves, and practice opening up–opening to the body, opening to our emotions, opening to our experience.

My blogs have been getting up towards 2,000 words lately, and I’m aware that most blogs are something more like 500. I’m trying to get myself on a blog diet.  I’m working my way towards a Haiku blog one of these weeks, but I’m not there yet. A mere 1200 words is a pretty good start, for me. Have a great week!

Have thoughts you’d like to share?

Touch Practice is a sacred practice for me, and part of that is keeping confidences sacred. While a name and e-mail address are required to post a comment, feel free to use just your first name, or a pseudonym if you wish. Your e-mail address will never be seen by or shared with anyone. It is used to prevent spam and inappropriate comments from appearing in the blog. I’d really like to hear from you!