I love people. I love talking and listening and laughing. I love to ask questions and learn more about people's lives. I love long, unexpected, amazing conversations about mountain highs in life and the dessert periods when someone has felt stuck in a dry an weary land. But most of all, I love the hugs. The hugs that come after greetings at the grocery, a chance meeting on a sidewalk or time well spent at a coffee shop or kitchen table. The physical connection between two people often occurs with the simple act of a hug. Embracing another person, I am saying I care about you, thank you for sharing your life me, I love you and support you.
Hugging isn't something everyone loves. I have been greeted by a firm extension of a hand as I approach for a hug. As if a hand shake creates the distance. I am now a little more respectful of those that don't appreciate hugs. I realized I was placing my need for physical affection and connection over their need to establish personal space. I usually find that if real, authentic relationships are formed, hugging often happens over time. People that declare themselves as non huggers or not a hug person eventually relax, find joy in the connection and hug. Actually hug and like it.
So to put it all out there, I hug often, I hug for long periods of time, I hug when hugs may not be deemed necessary. Hugging is a weakness that has become a strength. Because the hug life has chosen me.
I may have been told more than once that I talk too much. So to spare my family and friends much turmoil, this blog was created. Tales of Wonder. Tales of Woe. Often of heartache and love. Stories about my special needs son and my spunky daughter. Moments of Joy and Hope and stories about what I would do differently if given the chance. Stories that only I can tell. Here you find a little of everything. And you will want to return for more.
Sunday, August 27, 2017
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