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Touch as a Spiritual Practice?

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People sometimes ask why I don’t accept money for Touch Practice, or why I don’t “market” it more aggressively. Sometimes men who would like me to hold them will ask me what my “type” is. My reply is “I don’t have a ‘type’. The people who need me, find me. I hold whomever shows up. It’s a part of my spiritual practice.”

I can usually hear the “huh?” even through e-mail. And if the conversation is online, my response usually provokes one of two opposite reactions: the person either wants to meet me immediately—or they block me!

Touch can be many things. It can be a form of violence against others–we can actually touch someone in such a way that it ends their physical life. Touch can be selfish, a way of taking something for ourselves or cheapening another person into an object (“boy I’d like to touch a piece of THAT!”)

And, touch can also be a way to holiness, and wholeness (same root) that expresses our spiritual practice and values. So it’s important that we’re clear about what, exactly, we intend to do when we set out to touch someone. Setting an intention (compassion, or kindness, or being an agent of healing, to choose just a few possibilities) is a key part of establishing touch as part of a spiritual practice.

One of Jesus’ many radical, anti-establishment compassion practices was to touch people who weren’t getting touched—lepers, for example.  In Mark 1:41 Jesus reaches out and touches someone whom many others would cross to the side of the street to avoid.  And while leprosy is relatively rare in modern-day America, there are a number of organizations who try to carry touch as a form of spiritual care to the “untouchables” of our day.

Amma, the hugging saint, “hugs to spread the idea of motherly love and compassion ‘felt not only towards one’s own children, but all people, animals and plants, rocks and rivers—a love extended to all of nature, all beings.'”

Touching is one of the simplest and most powerful forms of kindness available. Warmly touching someone on the back as a form of greeting can trigger a visible softening and opening in the other person.

A warm, loving handshake can do this between men, but unfortunately the handshake among American men has devolved into a form of competition, a death-grip, a defensive demonstrative/interrogative dance of “I’m not weak—are you?” That’s not what the handshake was designed for.  It was intended to demonstrate that we’re not carrying weapons, that we come unarmed, undefended, vulnerable. It is a way to establish connection, not a style of combat. Complicating matters, most American men tend to sexualize all touch with other men, and so touch is immediately suspect, on a subconscious level, as a sexual prelude when in fact it might not be. A genuinely warm handshake is too risky for many men.

We all have different ideas and definitions of what constitutes genuine spiritual practice. For myself, as I look at the great touchers of history and reflect on what I have learned from the men I have sat with, I would say that touch as spiritual practice embraces these qualities:

  • It endeavors to do no harm either to another person or to self
  • It is humble, not arrogant. It does not presume to know what the other needs or wants, but works constantly to sense, to discern, to ask and to respect with regard to the boundaries and preferences of others
  • It is both self-aware and other-centered. It is virtually impossible to hold someone without being held. Those who touch as spiritual practice acknowledge both what they are giving and what they are getting. They are conscious of their own touch needs and take care of themselves, not just others. In this way they avoid vicariously “giving in order to get.”
  • It is not exclusive. Jesus didn’t care about Body Mass Index and Amma won’t insist “face pic?” before meeting. Touch as spiritual practice encounters others without judgment. It is the practice of sitting with another as they are, and thus an expression of unconditional love.

The next time you’re moving in a group of men, try expressing your spiritual practices and values, whatever they may be, using touch. Perhaps that might be a practice of hospitality, or generosity, or welcome. Shake hands warmly. Notice those who are asking (even desperate) for a hug, and offer what you can. If you’re in a place where it’s appropriate, you can even ask a newcomer, “would you like some touch?” Yes, you might get some perplexed responses (Jesus and Amma no doubt raised some eyebrows; even Leo Buscaglia had to put up with a certain amount of teasing.) Do it anyway. Risk being misunderstood. Be the best brother that you can be to other men, and don’t forget the touch.

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!

  1. BabaSink
    BabaSink05-15-2011

    As it so happens I was with a group of men, both gay and straight, brought together to do some ceremony over a weekend. It was a wonderful, heartfelt gathering of men in their 40’s, 50’s, & 60’s, but I did encounter several death-grip handshakes at first meeting with the newbies. In spite of the good work we were doing, it did take most of the weekend for the “air” to soften enough to at least make hugging not just acceptable by the end but cherished. I wish I had read this article before I went, as I would have found a way to encourage the process along… ;>)

    Another wonderful and thought-provoking article, thank you!

    B

    • Kevin Smith
      Kevin Smith05-17-2011

      BabaSink, thanks for writing. I’ve started to observe handshaking behavior in groups carefully. I’ve often been in business environments where someone with an unusually firm, brusque handshake can greet me and communicate, “Don’t mess with me. I take no crap from anyone.” Perhaps you’ve received similar handshakes.

      How interesting that a gesture that was meant to communicate “I am completely unarmed; I come in peace” has devolved into something we use as a defensive maneuver or warning signal. For myself, whenever I shake hands with a man, I try to have the handshake communicate, “You’re my brother and I’m here to love you. If you let me in, I will do my very best not to harm you.”