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Below is a response shared with me by my great friend, the sublime and sage, Raymond Obstfeld. Posting here because it's worth everyone's time, especially that beautiful last line. And if you're not reading Ray's The Hour Thief. . . https://thehourthief.substack.com/

I’ve been thinking a lot about…

…the act of hugging. Sincere hugging, not just perfunctory embraces. The holidays brought long-lost relatives and friends together and many forceful and tender hugs were exchanged. It seems like a simple and sincere demonstration of love and fellowship—and yet there are many nuances.

There are civilized rules to hugging. Generally, men who hug men do the bro hug: a quick embrace with hips at a clear distance, and a couple manly claps on the back before breaking. Women commit themselves more fully to hugs, which last longer and are closer because they have less fear of homophobic stigma. Men hugging women who aren’t relatives should wait for the woman to initiate the hug, or it could be creepy. The hug must be firm but brief, or it could be creepy. Older men hugging younger women: less firm and even briefer or it could be creepy. A lotta rules.

The young hug as a way of bonding, of staking a claim on one another as friends. An announcement of a future relationship together. It’s an act of faith. But the old hug as a way of holding on. It is not related to the future, but as in the moment as one can be because they know that the a hug is as intense and brief as life itself. In that quick exchange of body heat and pressure, they are cherishing. Cherishing not just the person but the act of love itself, the preciousness and precariousness of relationships. It’s a hug for all seasons.

Sometimes I think if we were able to be fully open and express our true selves in a hug, we would hold each other for minutes while weeping openly—out of joy, out of sadness, out of love, out of despair, out of the relief of making a human connection. In that hug we would be everything everywhere all at once.

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Ah, to be everything everywhere all at once :D

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Bagels galore!

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Beautiful meditation. Hugs are a language that we all need to be conversant in.

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Agreed. Love this metaphor as it also suggests dialects, accents, slang, etc. There ought to be a hug dictionary and thesaurus.

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Your wife is an expert hugger who managed to take me from “I don’t hang out with parents of the kids I coach, to where’s my hug? (My picture on top of a glass of Guinness didn’t hurt either.)

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Hugs and pints--in terms of world class combinations, it’s up there with peanut butter and jelly, Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner, the pick and roll... Also, my wife heard your original “I don’t hang out with parents” proclamation and immediately thought to herself, “I accept this challenge.”

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Ohh that awkward handshake when you were doing in for a hug…painful and awkward…those really sting.

Thanks for the kind shout-out. I appreciate your assumption that I provide such wonderful hugs to the soon-to-be-departed. I’d clarify that I hug the dying less often though…as they’re often laying down, which doesn’t translate well to hugs.

But I do give lots of hugs to grieving family members. I ask if they’d like a hug, and if they say yes, I’d qualify those as hugs that make you feel seen, that make you feel validated and met even in your deepest pain, hugs that silently communicate “you are loved, and it’s ok for you to feel these deep emotions, and you’re not alone.”

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"...doesn't translate well to hugs." Love the implication of this, that a hug is a certain language or dialect, which is echoed by Kareem in these comments. :)

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I would absolutely argue and definitely agree with Kareem that hugging is its own language.

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Reading this was like reading about my hubster and I

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Who’s the hugger? Who’s the one to dodge and weave?

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I am the hugger, he dodges and weaves, lolol

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He and I should grab a beer. ;)

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👍🏼

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Norm!! I’m so honored to be mentioned amongst these hugging greats!! (Your wife being the very best!) It’s soo nice to know that the presence of my hugs are felt... and remembered 🫶🏼

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Indelibly ingrained, my dear.

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Who loves ya baby, just hug it out!

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Not a bad life philosophy. ;)

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Loved this!!❤️

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Thanks! :)

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That poem! I love it. I’m coming over for a hug right now.

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