Articles

SENSEuality - Part Two

TOUCHED...

Our ability to reach out and touch is a gift. At any moment, we have the opportunity to touch so many things. It is truly a miracle in my view. How much have we denied it. When I decided to write about our sense-abilities and sense-uality I didn’t imagine how deeply it would touch me. 

Having been gifted with an extra sensory perception, can, and has in my case, given me an acute sensitivity to touch. Just about everything touches me. Whether I am touched by a person, an energy, a visual,  a sound, a look, or a dream makes no difference the sensation is the same it’s deeply poignant – almost to the point of painful. When something touches you – you breathe. You may touch shock, joy, anguish, another’s cheek, even rage. Each affects you strongly and deeply and you inhale.  

Touch is the radar for the control tower. It sweeps over everything around you and allows experiences to fill your senses consistently.  Every pore in the skin touches, making us very sensitive creatures relying on what we sense and feel to guide and direct us safely. We learn that to touch something that is difficult is bad and should not be touched again. We learn what is good and want to hold it closer.  Each lesson an experience. Each breath a moment to drink in what we are here to feel. We are walking emotion.

I don’t know about you – but my sensitivities are hurting.  Every nerve is alive with something that over-stimulates my sense of touch and convinces me that my touch is something other than what it really is. Our touch has been put in someone else’s hands. Our touch is taken away and then sold back to us, marketed and advertised as a sensation we don’t have and that we need to buy. That is why we feel to touch something involves some kind of payment in return.  We believe to be touched comes with an account. We are given a set of rules about touch and we follow them blindly –not realising that we have been tricked into now thinking we know what touching is – what things feel like. We don’t question it.  Our sense of touch has become a weapon used against us.  We are trained well. Only certain things touch us.  Self-gratification is in.  Feel this – bigger, better, stronger, brighter, shinier. More More More. We have bought the product.

So many people are simply searching for something to touch them.  We are de-sensitized by comparisons. We weigh this up with that. We judge one feeling as better or stronger than another. Levels of touch. Grades of Feeling.   Touch doesn’t have any limits?  So what are we feeling?  What are we touching?

I believe we are touching a world that is all around us, that we are living in, but feel completely out of touch with.  We know it, if we are listening and yet the more we listen, and our feelings tell us something is wrong, the more we refuse to believe it.  We are living in a protective bubble, all separated from ourselves, and consequently one another.  We search almost desperately for what it is that we have lost.  We look for it in others. We are out of touch. 

We turn on our televisions and we see another starving child, dying as we eat our dinner and it doesn’t touch us. We don’t even flinch.  We have all become so insensitive, we are comfortably numb. We hurt other people and we don’t even know it. We compare our ability to touch to something, anything, but we don’t know what it is.  We have forgotten the sound of the wind, the music in a sunset and we have forgotten completely the sound of our own breath.  We don’t breathe anymore. We hold our breath.  

Have you ever had the sensation of going along during your day, maybe it might be several days or even weeks or even months, all of a sudden thinking to yourself when did I last take a breath? Why breathe when every breath fills us with something we do not want to touch. It’s much easier not to.  This is true – but do you really want to find what you are looking for or are you happy with your product?  Are you afraid that you might find what you are looking for and be touched by it, thereby having to feel it and remember.  Is it easier to become untouched and indeed untouchable to avoid real feelings.

Truth or Lie.  Go on – weigh it up – touch it – hold it.

How do we remember to allow things to touch us? How do we allow our sense of touch to be consistently remembered?  Has our perception of touch been altered in any way?  Are we living out our life only touching a lie?

Take a really deep breath.  Nothing more.  Just breathe.  There is nothing to compare. It is not like there is a right way of breathing – it just is.  Now feel it.  Feel deeply.  Touch is in every breath.  The air touches your nostrils, your mouth, your throat and fills your lungs, you exhale.  It is a magnificent sense.   Imagine what it would be like if we could not touch.  Perhaps it is harder to imagine what it would be like if we could.

Try reaching out with your feelings, draw in your breath and expand you sense of touch.  Do nothing more than feel and listen.  Feel and Listen. 

Don’t allow your ego to tell you to settle for the easy way out.  The coat we have bought for ourselves to stop us feeling warmth, heat and light has served us well, and there will be times when we still need it – we will need to feel the numbed feeling of safety and comfort of its manufactured touch – just remember when you are wearing it, that’s all. We need to be warm, we want to be touched again and we want to know that we are alive – inside of our manufactured coat - not because of it.

Stay in touch

With all my Love,
Justis

Le mani di Eve

Quando le mie mani sono diventate inconsapevoli armi da guerra?
Il mio tocco acido
Le mie mani che manipolano
Mani indifferenti.

Sputo in faccia all’amore
In una completa e assoluta ignoranza
E poi mi pulisco le mani,
Non c’è sangue nel mio tocco
Forse come un serpente
Freddo e indifferente
Squamoso e pavido
Io dispenso il dolore
Che è il mio dono
Il dolore dove una volta scorreva l’amore
Perché?
Quando mi è successo?
Come l’ho permesso?
Le mie mani che hanno bisogno di accarezzare il mondo
Hanno bisogno di tenere i bambini
e invitare vicino a me quelli che amo
Un tocco, una mano che aiuta,
Una mano tesa per confortare,
Una tenerezza che solo di toccare si permette.

L’amaro è il gusto della dimenticanza

Guardo alle mie mani con una speranza,
Speranza che si possano girare
Che trovino il corraggio di dare
Speranza che anche loro riescano a placare le anime,
Le anime che hanno sofferto troppo per amore e passione.

Tengo in queste mie mani la speranza,
Che resistano e permettano di trovare un modo
Che poi diventi una nuova via
di toccare e sentire, tenere e guardare un pianeta

Return to the top of the page