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I’m meditating on a massaging melodious message from Melissa when Marilyn meanders to my gym door. She has come to pay for her grandson’s Karate tuition. He had previously come in for a taste of our oriental offerings and loved the nourishment and nurturing as much as we loved him joining us. Hence, his grand grandmother gave the generous gift of Gong Fu to her growing-into-grandeur grandson, as a Christmas present. Upon entering, Marilyn offers a smile, utters a memory of possibly crossing paths in the past and a hand shake. I feel the warm offering and experience the mutual need for, then go for a “heart(y)-guy-hug” (HGH – see recent article). We embrace and she shares the story of her closeness in the closing of this life for her. I note that Marilyn is working hard (doing the Gong Fu) to finish and pass on well. I listen, right to my bones, and bypass the parting handshake for another HGH, with warm tears.
Back at my desk, I embrace Melissa’s Boston Globe article about a “singing staffer” who eases his own anxiety as well as patients’, in the hospital where he works. As I read through her words of his singing of songs, I take note of his need to get to calmness prior to the melody coming to him from within, as potently as a prescription from the physician. When permission is permitted by the patient, the song sage sings them through the passage ways, often to critical operating procedures. What a way to prepare for either passing on to the new life that an operation can offer or the possibility of passing to the afterlife life. He seems to be creating a protective bubble of loving energy, like a heart-felt embrace.
I have often witnessed the loving power of pure presence with my children in relation to adulterated adults. Jocelyn, as a toddler, would stand beside my former mother-in-law when no-one else could stand her. That ice would melt and even turn to steam! Cory, as an infant, would be placed on my dad’s whale of a whale belly and bring that blowhard to deep blue breaths of mutual brotherhood! Jian would hug her hard-headed dad with velcro that would stick until I felt the tick-tock of our hearts harmonize.
Big Don is the first one in Taiji class this morning and announces that he read the HGH article, loved it and now wants his heart(y)-guy-hugs. Barbara giggles and jests about heart(y)-girl-hugs. I think of heart(y)-group-hugs and even went to heart(y)-gay-hugs. After all, aren’t all heart-felt hugs happy and gay? Speaking of which, I’m sending hugs though this space to a friend of my children, who has recently “come out”. And here are New Year’s cheers to all who dare to speak their truth as well as to all who feel the need to hold back on that for now. And while we are on the subject of getting beyond treating others as only objects, Melissa openly wonders how come I seem to be so huggable, especially to those that may not appear to be huggable. Wise woman that she can be, she openly opines about the value of embracing the divine as a lifelong practice within ourselves and its relationship to our outside selves.
In martial arts, a primary practice is of meditating in a standing posture called pung. Pung overtly means to ward off. On a subtle level, it means to embrace. With pung practice, maybe we connect back to our instincts. Hence, like the “brainless” one-celled amoeba, we can naturally indentify and move toward nourishment and thereby away from toxicity. Soul searching is necessary so that boundaries are bridged only with permission. And good luck to Melissa tonight on her first solo soul singing lesson. No wonder I feel like calling her Melody.