Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Touch

I went to an AIDS/HIV commune today. One of the first things I noticed was that the people were quite standoffish. They weren't rude or anything, but they seemed a bit tense and separate. They didn't want to sit next to me and if I stood near them they would back up a few paces. I told myself that they have had a rough life and to not take it personally.

Then I heard more about their experiences. They had been through so much pain and separation due to their illness and the misconceptions around AIDS. Their own families, the people who were supposed to love them forever, kicked them out because they thought they were dirty and broken. These people were thrown out because of something that is not at all their fault.

When we prayed for them, I put my arm around one of the woman. After that point, she came up to me and did not leave my side. She spent the rest of the time there with her arm around my hip or holding my hand. She was desperate to be touched. I realized that they had kept their distance out of respect, out of fear of being seen as dirty. Yet at the same time, they so needed to feel loved. They needed to feel like they were still human, like they could touch and be near other people and still be okay. It was beautiful and tragic.

It reminded me of Mother Teresa and her time with the lepers. She often was told by those around her to be more careful when touching the sick people, to protect herself and not get too close. She would always respond in defense of human dignity, speaking of the Christ that it is within each of us. To not touch someone was to deny their divine nature, their humanity, and the love that moved them. It's beautiful, really... All that is held in a touch.

I think we need to touch each other more. I'm not saying in a way that is creepy, or unwanted. But with our friends and our family, when it is appropriate and welcome. Put your hand on someone's shoulder when you compliment them, hug your friend a little longer when you greet them, don't be afraid to walk too close to people. I don't know what it is, but there is something so pure, so spiritual in these small touches throughout the day. It's an honoring of someone's dignity, a recognition of their humanity, and a way to connect without words. There are so many people here that I can't have a real conversation with because of language barriers, but I will just sit holding their hand or with arms around each other for long periods of time. And it is that contact that brings our interconnectedness to the surface.