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"I said, Lord take me downtown..."
May. 15th, 2002 09:11 pmMuch thought as of late on the idea of contact, skin, touch, and the meaning of it all. Credits go out to the giantslayer and the kindly one for patiently listening to my semi-sensical ramblings about the topic.
As a preface, I feel I suck at the whole being touched thing. I like to think I'm better at touching (it would be hard to be worse, in my eyes), but it's still a question of context, meaning, interpretation, etc.: all the usual knots on the whip. Until very recently, people have seemed reluctant/afraid to touch me (save for the ever fearless tiny one). I know I haven't historically made myself very available, either emotionally or physically (though always intellectually, but few seem to want to engage that way; those that did/do are specially valued). It certainly wasn't/isn't because of a lack of desire for the most fundamental contact; perhaps it was quite the opposite. Because I want/value it so much, maybe it felt not at all casual? Or, on my side, because it feels so vitally important, perhaps I was hesitant to devalue it by making it "too common". I don't know, but for whatever reason, I have not really been one to touch or be touched, save by the specially priveleged/burdened SO.
Lately, this has been more annoying and odious than usual. While it is certainly one of my resolutions to be more adept and open to nonverbal communication, that resolve wouldn't have arisen if there wasn't some degree of dissatisfaction about where I am/was. But the dissatisfaction brings to light interesting things for examination. ZB, while for me a light, lingering touch means a passion that must be restrained for fear of overwhelming the object of affection, as a recipient a light, lingering touch tends to feel dismissive, like the touch strangers make when moving through a crowd. I understand meaning made manifest in terms I understand/with which I resonate.
Enough for now.
As a preface, I feel I suck at the whole being touched thing. I like to think I'm better at touching (it would be hard to be worse, in my eyes), but it's still a question of context, meaning, interpretation, etc.: all the usual knots on the whip. Until very recently, people have seemed reluctant/afraid to touch me (save for the ever fearless tiny one). I know I haven't historically made myself very available, either emotionally or physically (though always intellectually, but few seem to want to engage that way; those that did/do are specially valued). It certainly wasn't/isn't because of a lack of desire for the most fundamental contact; perhaps it was quite the opposite. Because I want/value it so much, maybe it felt not at all casual? Or, on my side, because it feels so vitally important, perhaps I was hesitant to devalue it by making it "too common". I don't know, but for whatever reason, I have not really been one to touch or be touched, save by the specially priveleged/burdened SO.
Lately, this has been more annoying and odious than usual. While it is certainly one of my resolutions to be more adept and open to nonverbal communication, that resolve wouldn't have arisen if there wasn't some degree of dissatisfaction about where I am/was. But the dissatisfaction brings to light interesting things for examination. ZB, while for me a light, lingering touch means a passion that must be restrained for fear of overwhelming the object of affection, as a recipient a light, lingering touch tends to feel dismissive, like the touch strangers make when moving through a crowd. I understand meaning made manifest in terms I understand/with which I resonate.
Enough for now.
