Hugging the Homeless

 

hug - verb - to embrace someone with one's arms; to express affection (Google).

Just in case you didn't already know, one hug can make a huge difference in the quality of life. Remember the adage, "An apple a day keeps the doctor away"? Well, sub in "hug" for "apple," and you have an analogous aphorism that is completely true. According to RWJ Barnabas Health, hugs boost oxytocin, which is associated with feeling good. They also reduce anxiety, chronic pain, and high blood pressure. In addition, a hearty embrace increases feelings of belonging and safety and strengthens your immune system. In short, if you substituted a sweet hug for sugar on a daily basis, you'd probably live a lot longer.

Hugs can be commonplace for some naturally affectionate people who are fortunate enough to have relations and friends who are accessible and agreeable to hugging. (Don't forget that getting near anyone during the pandemic was verboten. My, have times changed.) 

However, there is a lot of single, unfortunate souls out there who rarely have the opportunity to hug, souls such as homeless people, who are vulnerable to myriad illnesses.  In any case, most don't think of bestowing affection upon those strangers living in poverty. But maybe some do? 

When was the last time you hugged a homeless person?  

Actually, not to one up you, but I hugged one today. Yes, I hugged a homeless person. Being that I was in the right place at the right time (a rarity for most), the chance arose and I took it. I was volunteering as a server at a restaurant specifically for the indigent in Venice, California. Admittedly, I was reluctant to accept the risky invitation at first. After all, the man was a stranger off of the streets. For a few seconds, Fear stepped in and tried to talk me out of the embrace. The man could have body odor, lice, some incurable, communicable disease. As a member of the wait staff, perhaps I wasn't permitted to touch the clients? I probably wasn't. But then the brave side of me took over. Envisioning myself as a lay version of my idol Mother Theresa, I opened my arms after Alex, an elderly regular with a scraggly, white beard and yellowing smile, stood up from chair, asked me if it would be okay, and reached out to cuddle me. I not only let him; I returned the favor. Few took notice of the anomaly as it was so brief, but he and I felt instantly appeased. The volume of sunlight that filled the room increased from ten to eleven. In short, I took a risk, and it paid off. I made someone sans much to be happy for, very happy.

Now will I be walking down Lincoln Boulevard in Venice hugging as many of the homeless as possible? Probably not. But I wish I had more in the way of courage to do so. Mother Theresa would have. Then again, hugging for the sake of hugging was most likely in her job description. If not, she wrote it into it. Maybe it is something we can all do. Write it into our personal job descriptions. Hug the daylights of someone you know or don't know at all without being stingy about it. 

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Soporific Venus vs. Mars

 

soporific - adjective - tending to induce drowsiness or sleep (Google)

The battle between the sexes has been waged ad infinitum for decades despite being complicated by the addition of an alternative gender. In fact, the debate between Venus (female) and Mars (male) has been so overplayed that some might feel that it has become soporific. We've been there, done that so the mere mention of the topic makes us drowsy with boredom.

 I'm going to throw a wrench in that engine. Just recently, via research, I've discovered a major difference between women and men that could just be the cause of an increase in the break-up rate among heterosexual couples: romance. Men and women define it differently. 

Although you may disagree (if you do, you have probably been married for too long), when it comes to perpetuating romantic love, romance is key. Without it, this type of love is just, well, love sans specifics. To men, romance boils down to sex. The more, the better. A romantic date to them reflects testosterone, meaning something physical must be involved. Think fishing, hiking, golfing, skiing, jogging, playing pickle ball. Am I right, ladies? If men are thinking of what their women want at all, at the end of the day, they might include dinner at a moderately priced restaurant. And they might even pick up the entire tab if they think they might have a chance at the golden ring. You know, sex. 

Women, on the other hand, tend to be more emotionally intelligent than their male counterparts. Because estrogen rules us even after it is nearly nonexistent, most of us have a love language that includes affection, poetic compliments (albeit this could be a stretch), and gestures (often a total stretch). A dozen red roses? They are a bit trite, but okay. We'll take what we can get.

I was lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to have had a 24-year romance (not a relationship) with a man who referred to himself as a "gay, straight man" because he was fully in tune with his feminine side as well as his masculine side. He was above and beyond Casanova when it came to pleasing me, both in and out of bed. And most of the nonsexual gestures had little to do with money and more to do with imagination and perhaps, genuine ardor. For example, he would cook me gourmet dinners served before the fireplace. Afterwards we would slow dance to songs we sang to each other. He would draw me bubble baths in a candlelit bathroom, frequently joining me in the tub. Since he rented a small cabin on a flower farm, to prepare for my visits, he would pick myriad bouquets and fill every room with them. Breakfast in bed came every Sunday morning for all of the years that we were together. Even though we are no longer together due to a complication that can't be helped, I will always be in love with him because of his degree of sensitivity, creativity, and selflessness. At present, I am now "unlucky" in that I am so spoiled that no other man whom I have dated since has ever been able to live up to his example. Why? Most men are from Mars; women are from Venus. Ugh. I'm feeling soporific just thinking about it.

The takeaway? Men, if you want to keep women of high value in your life, you are going to have to pony up in the romance department if you haven't done so already. Valentine's Day is vast approaching. Although everyday should be Valentine's Day in a romantic relationship, the actual day is the perfect starting off point for you to spice things up in the romance department. 

Just sayin'. 

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Anaphora as It Applies to Life

 

anaphora - noun - repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive sentences or clauses in order to create a drama effect or for emphasis.

When I taught high school English, anaphora was one of the literary techniques that I encouraged my students to use in their writing, mainly for poetic as opposed to dramatic effect. Back then, poetry was appealing. The term and its defining synonym "repetition for effect" popped into my head today at a care center while I was sorting through myriad boxes of clothing to be made available to the survivors of the recent L.A. wildfires. A fellow volunteer and I were told to keep all nearly new items and toss the threadbare. As we went through box after box of all kinds of donations (even designer garb), I discovered via chatting that my comrade in selection was not only from a town near my own hometown in Jersey, but she had worked for a man who had been friendly with my dad. Small world. 

Without prompting from me, she began a new verbal paragraph and told me that many of her friends lost her homes to the fires in Pacific Palisades and Malibu. Using anaphora unintentionally, she dramatically revealed that one of these current domestic mourners had lost more than one house on the same plot of land in more than one fire over a period of six years. The family had been displaced, yet returned to the scene of the natural crime only to rebuild. They just lost the latest version of the home two weeks ago and are already meeting with architects. Why? To rebuild. Really? Anaphora is one thing; deja vu is another. The question that plagues me is why someone would wish to fall down the same rabbit hole more than once.

What makes certain individuals ignorant of obvious patterns? Do they not believe in warnings from the Universe? Heck, for me, one loss would have been enough of a sign to sell the lot and move to Vegas where there is literally nothing to burn but hard-earned wages over and over again via any of the slot machines in the abundant casinos. 

As you know, I am not Einstein, but I do have common sense. But maybe that's just it. "Common sense is not so common" according to punny Voltaire. Some people are willing to take extraordinary risks especially when it comes to real estate. What it all boils down to is money, that abstract, concrete concept that rules the world. A house (particularly a new one) in Pacific Palisades or Malibu will be worth a lot more than the same house anywhere else. Who cares if the owners can't find an insurance company to insure the place? They can always sell the land. Or can they?

I have no time for complications of this nature, which is why I live in an apartment, a distance away from what tends to be burning these days in SoCal. I have insurance, but just enough to replace some of the contents of my 725 square foot abode. If the building were to disappear one way or the other, I would just find another apartment somewhere a bit safer. It would just make sense, though, like anaphora, not deja vu. 

#word-to-words, #slice-of-life, #blog, #blogging, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing, #truth, #society, #L.A.fires, #LosAngeles, #SoCalFires, #Wildfires, #fires, #repetitionforeffect