Touch

In 2011, I attended my very first massage class.

Our very first practice was to massage a calf — one calf only.

The teacher quickly demonstrated a few techniques for us to try:
Long strokes.
Criss-cross.
Kneading.

Then we paired up.

It was a daunting task. So many thoughts and feelings ran through my mind.

I stood there, all stiff, in front of my partner’s calf while she lay face down on the table.
I paused for a moment, just looking at her calf, feeling nervous and anticipating the moment.

I wasn’t sure what — or how — I would feel about this.

Then I made the first contact.

To this day, I still remember that feeling.

As soon as I felt her calf — her skin, her flesh, her muscle — something surprised me.

It calmed me.

Her muscle felt alive. Warm. Soft. Squishy in a way that felt very real.

For a second or two, I just stayed there, feeling the contact. Then slowly I began to “play” with her calf, trying the strokes we had just learned.

It felt as though the touch was informing me — as much as it was informing her body.

Then it was my turn to receive. Strangely enough, I don’t remember this part at all.

What stayed with me was the experience of touching.

It’s still the same now. When I touch…

Their breathing bodies, their warm flesh, their aliveness inform me.

It changes me as much as it changes them — each and every time we meet in this way.

To touch.
And to be touched.