Friday, February 21, 2014

52/365 • no man is an island

The one thing that crosses age barriers, and language and country and culture barriers here, is physical touch. Especially hugs.
Those ones that begin a bit tentatively, in case it's not welcome.
An arm around the shoulder that is met with an eager squeeze.
In that moment, it doesn't matter that we don't speak the same language.
It's enough to share concern, and kindness and it's always received with a humble thank you.
Hugs seem to squeeze out darkness.
Let in warmth and light, and open hearts, and sisterhood.
They dispel loneliness and fear and allow us a sense of belonging.
We don't hug enough.
John Donne was right; we are not Islands.
We are not solitary beings bumping into each other every now and again.
We need each other, and we need to be needed.
Hug someone today!

In three sleeps I'll be back on Australian soil, hugging my babies tight.
Wrapped up in their scent and their little arms and legs.

Mother hugs. Comfort, and familiarity. Warmth and security.

Everyone could do with a hug, every now and then.


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