“To receive everything, one must open one’s hands and give.” – Taisen Deshimaru
They say hands are tools we use to give, to lend, to make love, and to make hate. Some time ago, I dated a guy who loved holding my hand. He once proclaimed that he could hold my hand all day if possible. And he did. All through the city, he led me. Our hands tightly clamped to each other and our arms just swinging into the wind. For a while, I thought he had a hand fetish (which I probably would have been okay with - to each it's own, right?). Well, it turned out he just really liked holding hands. However, for some reason his constant desire to hold my hand made me uncomfortable. While I appreciated the gesture, the combination of our sweat accumulating into a warm puddle in the middle of our palms made me cringe. It sounds gross, but that was the way it played out in my mind. I knew I was wrong and I felt awful for feeling this way.
Really, who the heck was I to deny myself a friendly hand? A harmless, single, lonely touch? I denied myself a simple connection with another human being because...? Nonetheless, it did not work out between us. It went beyond the hand holding, although it still bothers me that I could not even accept that tiny slice of intimacy. I was so closed off then. Hurting.
If you are wondering why I am sharing this it's because there is a lesson to be learned here. I learned something while reflecting back on this isolated moment in my life. We can not deny ourselves the good things. Hands are our connection to each other. Because of them, we are able to give and receive. If someone reaches for your hand, your help, or your love, stretch yourself and grab theirs. In this world today, we shouldn't waste our time fearing, judging, and over-thinking. I learned that it's got to be love from here on out. So, if another gentleman appears out of the blue and asks if he could hold my hand, I would let him...all day if he liked. :)