當然,還包括 DRC-CRT:THE HEALING OF LOVING TOUCH 觸動愛之療癒!
The virus ( COVID-19) has caused many to got to unprecedented lengths to stay touch-free from their loved ones to prevent a possible spread when returning home from their essential jobs–some even going as far as sleeping in separate bedrooms or sections of their homes. This new normal is anything but.
Touch, according to Dr. Field, is essential to the health and development of human beings.
“It saves natural killer cells that kill bacterial, viral and cancer cells," she said.
She points out, however, there are alternatives for people to attain the benefits of touch during this period.
They include exercises like yoga, tai chi, or simply walking, which, she says stimulates the pressure receptors under our skin.
Of course , including ours DRC-CRT : The Healing of Loving Touch !
FAITH & VALUES: NOTHING CAN REPLICATE THE POWER OF A TOUCH
By ANA VECIANA SUAREZ
THE MORNING CALL | JUL 19, 2020 AT 6:00 AM
“Skin hunger,” says my friend on the phone. “That’s what you have: skin hunger.”
I’ve never heard of the term, but as she begins to describe it, I realize she’s right. My skin is hungry for touch — but not just any touch. The kind I crave is the pat and prod and poke of my grandchildren’s chubby hands and bony knees. I long for a short-armed hug and a wet kiss. I yearn for someone to sit on my lap and nuzzle my neck. I want a little someone to whisper insignificant confidences in my ear, a kind of caress that invariably makes my heart swell with gratitude and joy.
I’ve been without this for weeks, and I’m not sure how much longer I can go. My patience and resolve are as thin as onion skin. Will this separation ever end?
The concept of skin hunger is not new, by the way. It’s also called “touch starvation” or “touch deprivation,” but whatever the name the definition remains the same. The lack of physical contact can lead to depression, anxiety, sleep problems, stress, loneliness, even difficulty regulating emotions. (This might explain why I’m so irritable!)
Studies have shown that infants who aren’t held stop growing and, in the most extreme situations, even die. But it’s not just babies who need touch. Grown-ups do too. In the time of COVID-19, though, the touchy-touchy stuff is limited to our immediate quarantine team. So, we’ve adapted. The elbow bump has supplanted the handshake and FaceTime has taken the place of the cuddle. But what will we substitute for the hug, the shoulder squeeze, the air kiss on both cheeks?
While the idea of a beloved’s touch makes us all warm and fuzzy. . .
As I hunger for the skin of my grandchildren, for the smack of their lips on my cheek and the heat of their arms around my waist. . . .
Touch is the first language we learn and the last we will feel. Nothing can replicate its power, not by a long shot. We can use touch for good or for oppression, as a balm for loved ones or as a rejection of strangers. We can use it to express compassion by linking arms or to convey savagery by an unjust beating.
In the coming days, as we navigate The New Normal, each of us will decide the safest way to caress our loved ones. A quick kiss? A long hug? Holding hands until our palms grow sweaty? Or (gulp) continuing to stay away for everyone’s safety? . . . . .
The coronavirus has taketh and it has giveth. It has forced changes in the way we express our physical love, but it also has provided plenty of time for reflection. Touch, I’ve come to realize, is the unspoken declaration of what we hold most dear but also what we most fear. We decide.