My first rebellious act came on day 20 of my self-imposed measures. I had decided enough was enough! I needed a hug. Living by myself, not having a pet and with tango classes having come to a halt I was craving human touch. People who know me would confirm that I am a very “touchy” person. Hugs here, kisses there, holding hands and looking deep into the eyes at a serious conversation. No, strike that, even at a lighter topic I would look for close connection with my counterpart. I had survived three weeks without all this touchiness and was admittedly very proud of myself – I never thought this would be possible. At least not without jumping off the balcony eventually. As the first weeks of this new life passed by, as all this Corona frenzy and novelty was becoming our new reality, I realised I had to act or something bad would happen, it was a matter of time!
I chose to name a “hug body”. Someone with a similar mind-set and lifestyle, someone who craved human touch as much as myself, in short my best friend. I thought it was a brilliant idea. For a moment I thought to even copy right the term… Some people had f*** bodies, all I chose to have was very simply one hug body. We started meeting on Fridays at the market, buy healthy and sometimes extravagant food, cook, drink wine, discuss. And of course hug. Lengthy, emotional, full body hugs. It became a ritual that I did not ever want to lose again. Secretly I was hoping that the quarantine rules would last forever so I get to keep my hug body and the ritual. Absurd but true. However not as absurd as what was to follow. Being so excited with my idea, I started spreading the word. I was hoping to help others who may be in need of human touch and lived just by themselves. Instead I received criticism. Heavy criticism. Luckily not by many but still, the few who criticised the idea were adamant about it. “What you do is against the rules. You are not supposed to touch anyone outside your household or partnership. People like you cause the spreading of the virus and will keep us in this situation forever. Have some empathy at last!” Long silence from my end, I first had to digest what had just happened. Sure I was bending the rules but I was not organising long, clandestine raves in the park. Were these people seriously preferring me jumping off the balcony?
I knew it was their fear speaking, I knew they were looking for someone to blame to make the situation more dealable, to give it a handlebar. What I could not grasp was not their feelings, it was mine! Listening to the accusations I felt like a 5 year old who had to explain why it chose to eat the chocolate bar after having brushed their teeth. I knew I had solid reasons for my actions, so why did I feel I had to justify myself? And more importantly why compare myself to others who did worse, like the ones organising the rave parties? Did they actually do worse? And if so why could I be the judge of it? Questions over question that I threw to myself, being aware that they come easier than the answers. Asking the questions is though the beginning of a process. It always starts with a question mark. If one is stubborn enough, asks for a long time, at different times of day and states of the mind, then the answers will eventually fly in. The exclamation mark will eventually follow.
That is how social creatures function I thought to myself. They form opinions and test them out in society. They soon discover who their allies are and who not and choose from there on with whom to converse. They turn into more political creatures if they choose to converse, well let’s call it argue, with people of an opposite opinion. This, I realised was what I was doing. I was not justifying myself, I was arguing in the most civil manner possible. It was some time now that I had the wish to bring people of opposing stands into one common arena and start a modern times debate society. Like the one we had at university. Without social media in the room. Facebook and co would have to wait outside. Political correctness, too. Just the bare thoughts, the power of words, the wisdom of argumentation. Would that not be wonderful? To finally hear the arguments of the other side in full sentences and not just the paroles of a demonstration. To fully grasp where they were coming from, the others. In fact, any planned demonstration and its respective counter demonstrations should be turned into debate arenas. I was tired to always be going to demonstrations where the other was of the same opinion as me. Going to film festivals where I knew the political stand of the audience and could guess their questions. It felt comfortable and safe knowing that I was surrounded by think alike people that much is true.
Greatness is though not formed by cushiness. I knew that. What I did not know was how to embark to the other side. To the side where people are hostile and you still choose to stay and listen and argue and converse. To the side where more is at stake than the bare criticism of a friend for having a hug body. Like with so many things I decided the best way forward was to start small but to start all the same. Part of the result is this blog. It has been hovering in my mind for countless years but during the pandemic it found its space on the World Wide Web. For all I know the audience is small and the comments few (and some pure advertising…) but the process has been initiated. I dared to put myself out there for my very own sake. And you know how it is. Once the stone sets rolling you have no chance than to play along.
