The Power of Touch

Touch is powerful. Not everyone is comfortable with being touched. When performing Reiki, unless the person wishes otherwise, I prefer to hold my hands slightly above the person’s body instead of making contact. I like the feeling of Reiki moving out through my hands. It feels different when I lay my hands on someone. I feel less vibration, but the heat is still present.

Touch can violate boundaries. I remember a older man who came into the shop we owned. He had always respected boundaries with me, until the day he didn’t. It was odd. He reached over the desk and took my hand and begin drawing on it with a paper clip. I’m not sure if the witch, empath or Black Belt in me took over at that point, but I pulled my hand back and just looked at him. He had never touched me before. Something was off about him. The energy was predatory. Evidently my look conveyed my sheer disgust with him and he quickly left.

Touch is a choice. I never understood guys who behaved this way. They did it knowing my husband was in the next room, unaware of what they were pulling. It evidently never occured to any of them that the first thing I would do when they left was to tell my husband. Maybe they viewed it as a private moment between us, but I didn’t share their feeling. I tattled. My husband taught me everything I know about Kenpo, so he knows exactly what I’m capable of. It’s not that I was afraid or anything. Mostly I was torn between explaining to them how my self control saved their lives and laughing my ass off.

And if I decided to touch back? Take the first guy. Had I touched him back, he’d have only one usable hand to spend his golden years with, and you can use your imagination as to where that paper clip would have ended up. I used my words, loudly, one day when I told another clueless guy not to hit me. Yes, he slapped me right on the back. My husband was there, graciously unloading the guy’s bike from the back of his truck, and this stellar individual thought that slapping me on the back was a proper greeting. Or so I thought. When he did it a second time, it was clear that he was actually assaulting me. Right there in the parking lot of our business. Right there while my husband was unloading the guy’s motorcycle.

A business owner can get a reputation if they beat the snot out of one of their customers, so I walked away instead. Quickly. And it wasn’t easy given how his knees were screaming to make a connection with my foot. But seriously, a simple knee check would have done the job. My knee connecting with his. Simplicity in motion. Effective. Fucking awesome.

Putting his hands on me cost him my husband’s friendship and respect that day. We’re retired now, so we rarely run into him anymore. He gave my husband a hug the last time he saw us at the grocery store. He gave me both a wide berth and a terrified look. But clearly the disconnect is still there, or he’d be giving my husband an even wider berth. Because it’s a testament to my husband’s self control that he didn’t lay him out in the middle of the parking lot for putting his hands on me.

So, careful who you touch. They might just touch back.

 

Today’s post topic is from The Daily Prompt at WordPress