The Power of Touch

(ANNNNND we’re back.  Quick point of information:  I’ll be doing several blogs per week until I’ve caught up to schedule.  So there’s that.)

This week’s (Well, the week of July 20th)'s chapter is called “The Black Gate Opens.”  In it, Aragorn and Gandalf lead the forces of Minas Tirith to Mordor for the purpose of distracting Sauron.  Most of the city’s forces leave, except for Eowyn, Faramir, and Merry.  Eowyn has to stay behind because she’s still bed-ridden.  Faramir also remains, though the chapter doesn’t explicitly say why (He had been healed several chapters earlier by Aragorn.  It is likely he remains because he is the Steward of the Gondor, and should remain with the people).  Merry is up and feels able, but Aragorn tells him, “You are not fit for such a journey.  But do not be ashamed.  If you do no more in this war you have already earned great honour [by defeating the Witch King].  Peregrin shall represent the Shirefolk.”

The army leaves, and Merry watches it with Bergil, whom Pippin introduced to him.

The last glint of the morning sun on spear and helm twinkle
and was lost, and still he remained with bowed head and heavy heart,
feeling friendless and alone.  Everyone that he cared for had gone away into the gloom…

As if recalled by his mood of despair, the pain in his arm returned, and he felt
weak and old, and the sunlight seemed thin.  He was roused by the touch of Bergil’s hand.

Merry’s deep misery is assuaged, if momentarily, by touch.  Touch is a powerful tool.  It can be used to hurt or help.  Sometimes being welcomed by a hug will ensure the welcome is felt.  But sometimes even being brushed up against is enough to make one feel unsafe.  It’s difficult to say, as a generality, what kind of touch is good and what kind of touch is bad.  With the exception of the extremes, it’s mostly about one’s personal preference.

But touch, when used correctly, can dramatically increase one’s health.  Touch is an important way to express and receive affection, which increases our overall sense of security and decreases our feeling of being alone.  Touch can also be a way to express what words cannot.  (That link is on the extreme side, but even that extreme is an important and unfortunately pervasive one)

For myself, I am alright with people touching me.  I like hugs, I like high fives, I like a pat on the back.  They make me feel good.  Now that camp is wrapping up, I need to start to mentally preparing myself for a big decrease in the amount of casual physical contact I will be experiencing.  It’s a big drop.  The culture of the “real world” is that touch is something reserved for special occasions.  Especially for men, casual touching is frowned upon (There was some article I read about this in June, but try typing “men need casual touching” into Google and see what you get.  Actually, don’t bother).  However casual touching has fantastic benefits for one’s emotional well-being.  Then again, if men aren’t supposed to show emotions, we can understand why they should be able to endure without casual touching.

In any event, that lack of contact is hard for me to get used to after a summer at camp.  If touching has all of these very realbenefits, those are benefits I have to suddenly do without.  There are some men whom, due to societal pressures, do not regularly experience them at all!  And how much worse for a sexual assault victim (of either sex) for whom almost any kind of touching reminds them of their trauma?

The good news is, most people know what kind of touch they want and when they want it.  Many people will bear a conversation they don’t like, or eat food they’d rather not, or smile when they don’t really feel happy.  Polite society, for better or worse, demands those things.  But people tend to be vocal about their physical boundaries.  If they are crossed, we should respect their protests.  Ideally, however, we ask ahead of time what they like and when.  Everyone has the right to be comfortable in their body and their space, and we should work to ensure those around us feel that way.

Don’t think of this as asking for limits.  If you’re having this kind of conversation with someone, it is likely you are their friend.  And we want our friends to be happy and secure.  Asking allows us to ensure that, when we touch them, we are doing it in a positive and acceptable way for them.

If their answer disappoints you, own that disappointment.  Maybe you had a crush on them and are disappointed they don’t like an arm around them, or a (what you mean as) friendly touch on the arm.  That’s fine to be disappointed, but don’t blame them.  They don’t have an obligation to enjoy what you do.  If you really like them and want to get to know them, you need to be prepared to cater to their needs.  Relationships are all about compromise, so I’ve heard.  No one wants to date a dictator.

If you get to know a person’s needs, and you get to know how a person likes to be touched, it opens vast levels of communication.  Words are powerful tools of communication, but sometimes we need to transcend their limits.  What could Bergil have said that would have stirred Merry from his grief?  Reread that quote - Merry is spiraling from despair to despondency.  His emotional burden is beginning to affect him physically.  But a simple touch of the hand “roused” him, and reminded him that he was not alone, and that the world endured, and he had people who could support him.  He could have sadness inside him without being overwhelmed by it.

Touch is an incredible thing.  We should use it wisely.