The sense of touch is with me all the time -- right there in the tips of my fingers. But how often do I pause to accept it, to actually feel what I am touching? Every day, fabric and thread flow through my fingers and I hardly think about it. Every day I feel the warmth of my tea cup, the softness of my pajamas, the heaviness of a blanket at night - without thought.
One touch I never take for granted is the touch of another person's hand. Whether it is the other person taking my hand or me taking theirs -- that touch stays with me all day. It is a connection that I hope I never ever ignore.
Am I perhaps drawn to fiber arts because of the textures? Am I drawn outside to touch the grasses or the flowers because touching them makes me feel even more alive? Do I stroke a baby's cheek in honor of her/his life? Touch is a sense that I hope to think about more in the coming days.
"On the unconscious level, touch seems to impart a subliminal sense of caring and connection." - Leonard Mlodinow
