I have gotten into the habit of waiting till the end of the day to jot down some thoughts here. In some ways that’s good because I have had all day to think things over, to contemplate what to write about. But on the other hand, I’m tired at the end of the day. And I feel it when I’m trying to remember just the right word and it stubbornly refuses to be conjured up, or when I’m trying to herd my jumbled thoughts into line and they just won’t be wrangled.
So I thought I’d give this a shot. I’ve just finished breakfast and am still sitting at the kitchen counter. I think I hear C waking up upstairs, so in a minute I expect to hear first the sound of some video playing on his iPhone followed just a second later by the sound of his footsteps as he gallops down the stairs. I also heard my mom’s alarm go off about half an hour ago so it’s possible that she’ll come shuffling out of her unit in her blue robe soon, scratching her head a little as she looks tentatively around before saying either “good morning” or “it’s cold.”
***
In the paper this morning there was an article reflecting in the Year of COVID series that included this quote: “People are learning the importance of touch and the importance of conversation. When we talk about basic needs, one of our basic needs is each other. And being social. And being connected.”
This is what drew me into city planning more than thirty years ago, this idea that fostering a sense of connection, to a place, to one another, is essential not just to maintain our physical and mental health, but really to preserve our fundamental humanity. And the way we shape the places within our communities can play a big part in this; we can create places that connect, or places that isolate.
This past year, we’ve all had a chance to experience what isolation feels like, to one degree or another. I’m working my way up into being a card-carrying member of the Introverts United club, and have benefited from having a comfortable home with family I love during this year of social distancing, and even I am feeling it. I can only imagine what this has been like for extraverts living alone in more confined living spaces. Zoom can only go so far in filling the gap.
I listened to this podcast a while back. It’s Brene Brown speaking with Emily and Amelia Nagoski, authors of Burnout, and one of the things that I took from it was the restorative value of human touch. (Hugs not drugs!) Here’s more on that:
Hug someone you love and trust for twenty full seconds, while both of you are standing over your own centers of balance. Most of the time when we hug people, it’s a quick, lean-in type hug, or it might be a longer hug where you each lean on each other, so that if one person lets go, the other person would fall over. Instead, support your own weight, as your partner does the same, and put your arms around each other. Hold on. The research suggests a twenty-second hug can change your hormones, lower your blood pressure and heart rate, and improve mood, all of which are reflected in the posthug increase in the social- bonding hormone oxytocin. Like a long, mindful kiss, a twenty-second hug can teach your body that you are safe; you have escaped the lion and arrived home, safe and sound, to the people you love. Of course, it doesn’t have to be precisely twenty seconds. What matters is that you feel the shift of the cycle completing.Therapist Suzanne Iasenza describes it as “hugging until relaxed.”
https://www.penguin.co.uk/articles/2019/mar/complete-stress-cycle-emotional-exhaustion-burnout.html
I really latched on to this one thing and quickly instituted a daily 20-second hug routine with the boys, even bringing my mom into the practice with us.
The news about COVID vaccinations and the resulting decline of positive cases and hospitalizations is promising but for now it feels like we’re still in a bit of a holding pattern. These daily hugs won’t be enough for forever, but for now, at least, they’re something…
eleven bee 