Native Language is TouchI began to cry in the workshop. “My native language is touch and I have no one to speak it with.” Imagine living in a world where no one speaks your language. That’s how I felt most of the time. I had never articulated it like this before, though. Hence the tears. Part of my passion, my work, my self is simply to get beyond words. Words are symbols. They can be useful. They can call meaning forth. They do not convey it, which is why there is so much misunderstanding with words. Touch can be misunderstood and misinterpreted as well. But I enjoy the conversations more, wherever they go. It feels real, visceral, impactful.
I want to foster touch as communication courses and experiences from our youngest years. I think much pain in our society is around touch needs not getting met–despite English people. They had so little touch they had to go around conquering the world to get that much-needed contact. I often wonder how bullets and bombs are substitutes for penetrating others in much less violent ways.
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