HUG?
One could argue there isn’t a day that wouldn’t be improved by a good old-fashioned hug. My recommendation is to treat yourself not just to a daily hug, but a full-scale HUG. Let me explain…
You see, I have a HUGGER. Not a “hugger” or even a capital H “Hugger”. I mean, an all-caps HUGGER.
Those of you who also have a HUGGER will understand the distinction. Maybe you are a HUGGER yourself – congratulations, you have remarkable superpower. Use it wisely.
For those of you new to the HUGGER phenomenon, there are two distinguishing hallmarks of the all-caps HUGGER designation:
Firstly, a HUGGER is a species blessed with an uncommonly bizarre sense of timing. My HUGGER materializes out of the ether at the most singularly un-huggy moments - arms outstretched, entreating puppy eyes, and a plaintiff “hug?”. Real life examples include: as I exit full drip from the shower; when my hands are encased in raw meat while making hamburger patties; enroute to the curb with overfull recycle bin dripping stale beer down my leg; while trying to close the car trunk with a half-ton of groceries in my arms. This is fine because, while preferrable, the HUG need not be reciprocal. I often serve merely as prop, meat covered hands in the air like a (really unhygienic) surgeon. The HUGGER does the bulk of the hugging work.
This brings me to the second requirement for elevation to all-caps HUG standing: Stamina. All-caps HUGS can last an untold amount of time. Untold, as in I can’t tell you how long they might last. I have never had the saintly patience, or empty schedule, required to discover the threshold at which the HUGGER voluntarily unclamps. Even cut short, HUGs are long enough for the recipient to contemplate making it a standing nap, or composing a sequel to “War and Peace”. The hope is clearly for the HUG to last a significant chunk of the day. That the HUGGER is in for the long haul is evidenced by her expert form: feet braced akimbo, head tucked in like a bird, ujjayi breathing, muscles relaxed. With this patented approach, the HUGGER will then fully melt into you like a crayon on an electric radiator.
When the HUGs were in plentitude, ambushes coming multiple times a day, I will admit that I occasionally (okay, often) found it a bit ‘much’. Upon reflection, I have come to recognize that we can all learn something from the HUGGER. A HUG of all-caps calibre is like a super-dose of all the Happiness Project recommendations. Social connection (emotional and physical) – check. Expressing gratitude, love and thankfulness – check. Acts of kindness – check. Heck, release yourself to the HUG and you even have meditation in the mix. But more than anything, what the HUGGER has truly mastered is the art of savoring: of being fully in the moment, lengthening positive experiences and truly enjoying something she loves.
You might not have access to a HUGGER, or to have a recipient ready (or not so ready) at hand to be the target of your HUG. That’s okay. Because here’s the thing: my HUGGER has now gone off to University. No longer do I fend off encircling arms while straining boiling pasta water. No longer do I unexpectedly walk into entrapping limbs while carrying a leaning tower of everybody else’s things up the stairs. I, of course, miss the HUGs - almost as much as I miss the HUGGER. But she has left me with a rare gift: she has taught me that a HUG can take many forms. In our case, I am pretty sure that my role as recipient has been replaced by lovingly prepared mugs of tea. Now instead of wrapping her arms around me whenever she needs to mini vacation, she wraps her hands around her warm cup, inhales the herbal goodness of its steam, and takes a moment – or many moments – out of her day to have a break, rest her mind, be grateful and kind to herself. And savor every moment of it.
So, go find your version of a HUG.
enjoy.