Thursday, February 7, 2008

A Touching Story

My roommate, Carrie, is a speech pathology major. As such, many of her college classes focused on dealing with developing children and autism, as people who fall in these categories may need help with their speech. I was always blessed by the random wisdom she bestowed upon us all. One particular evening, we were watching High School Musical, and Carrie began a little discourse, "Girls, there's good touch and bad touch. If another girl wants to hold your hand the first day you meet her, that's bad touch."

Now, while Carrie may have enjoyed being silly, I think the world needs to hear what she has to say about touching. Now, I'm not sure why physical contact can be so powerful. Having read the five love languages, I suppose it holds as much general power as any of those languages. Just like mean words can sting, a touch at the wrong time can really turn people off.

That's why I am so surprised to find a general disregard for personal space these days. Here's a situation I come across a lot: a not so crowded movie theater. Someone sits in the chair next to me. Now, I have been given permission by those who know etiquette to move, in order to increase my comfort zone. But personally, I feel there's no need for such bold behavior. We all want good seats, but is it really going to ruin the movie to scoot just one more chair over from the center?

And then there's the touching of strangers. This happened at a restaurant I was at recently - the waitress started patting my friend on the shoulder. I could tell she was uncomfortable, and so was I. My other friends stuck up for her, saying she was trying to be comforting. But the fact was - she was a stranger.

In America today, there's really no polite reason to go up and touch someone, or even be too close to someone, you don't know. The exception would be if you are a foreigner unfamiliar with the larger American bubble. Because that's what it is. Culturally, Americans have a bigger bubble. I want to say it's right because I like it. Truthfully, we've been raised that way. We have space, and we use it. As kids, we don't touch much - probably because our parents were afraid of spreading germs. There's also the "bad touch" education that many of us actually get.

Frankly, I think invading someone's personal space is as rude as some people say talking on a cell phone in public is, or breaking plans at the last minute without an appology.

On the other hand, there is good touch. Really good touch. I like to call it "Vitamin K," and I think that's not right. I know we get vitamins from the sun, and from being happy, and from being with people. I don't know which ones those are. However, I know that I miss and crave that good touch.

I used to crawl all over my family as a kid, snuggling with them, wrestling with my sister. I had a dog to pet. Now, though, I rarely get any physical contact. Yes, it takes a lot more to break through my bubble than some people. Even friends I've known a long time give me the heebie jeebies if they go in for a hug.

On the other hand, those lucky, extremely close people, who break into my bubble do so much good when they give me a hug, pat on the back, or whatever it is. I look forward to seeing a little girl at church because she gives me a hug, and I'm not afraid of her. Sometimes you need a hug! And for those on the edge of breaking through the bubble - taking the initiative makes a difference. I'm sure if there was someone I wasn't comfortable hugging, but who hugged me, I might grab on and take hold for dear life.

It's just one of those things. I miss being with people and touching people. Not in a "bad" way. But I need my Vitamin K, just like I need Vitamin C to keep from getting sick.

1 comment:

Anna Kristina said...

I'm going back and reading some... and have you noticed in Chicago, bubbles are smaller? Ian and I went to a restaurant the other day, and it's so tiny, and you're next to people you don't know, and you're supposed to ignore the fact you could jump in their conversation at any time. Airplanes are like this as well, and so is eating at the market sometimes... you just have to plop at the other end of a table because there is nowhere else to go. Perhaps we're spoiled with the luxury of a bigger bubble, coming from Kansas?