A Dearth of Hugs

Back in 2002, I found myself between jobs. With free time on my hands, I sought to fill the void as best I could. A colleague of mine had developed a new technology that sounded promising, and he asked me to help develop a business plan for securing venture funding. I was thrilled to have something to do, especially in my field, so I gladly accepted, pro bono of course.

During our business relationship, which included several meetings over cookies courtesy of Rita and a white board in the living room, we formed a close bond. As you can imagine, we called each other often to brainstorm. During one such call, my partner hesitated, and asked if he could ask me a personal favor. Intrigued, I obliged. One of his daughters had recently developed juvenile diabetes, and he and his wife were naturally desperately grasping for ways to help her. My friend explained that he had recently reconnected with an old buddy of his who had dropped out of the business world and was seeking harmony, both musically and spiritually, in New Mexico. When he told his old friend of his daughter's plight, the friend suggested that they travel to Washington, DC to seek a healing hug from Amma, a living saint who travels the world giving hundreds of thousands of special hugs, which had been reported to help the sick. The physical effort of hugging so many would certainly appear to be beyond the ability of most humans, and there is no scientific explanation for how Amma does it, even to this day, with hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions.

My partner, aware of my many health problems, and, concerned for my well-being, asked if I would like to travel to DC with his wife and daughter as they attended one of Amma's darshans, which means "meeting with a holy person". Their hope was for their daughter to receive a hug, and perhaps experience a miraculous recovery. At first I was speechless, and after my mind wrapped around the idea, I agreed. Why not? It couldn't hurt. So, even though my wife thought I had taken leave of my senses, I piled into the van and off we went.

The darshan was held at a hotel in Crystal City, an impressive edifice and a fitting locale for a mystical meeting. We were guided to a large reception area by several beatific beings enrobed in white. After giving a reasonable donation, we were admitted to the main area, where we were encouraged to partake of a very nice Indian buffet lunch. It slowly dawned on me that nearly everyone was wearing a white ensemble, signifying that they were devotees of Amma. Hundreds of smiling souls sat cross-legged as they were entertained by musicians playing traditional melodies. Our little entourage found a space and joined the flock, legs dutifully crossed. A palpable sense of anticipation filled the room as the crowd began to chant and the music intensified to a crescendo, at which point Amma was ushered in by assistants and firmly ensconced on a silk pillow.

More songs and chants followed, which I must say was quite enjoyable once I joined in. Amma's son, who led the band,gave a short introduction in English, and then Amma gave a teaching, which was fascinating and resonated with everyone, myself included. I did not judge, and became a human sponge, absorbing as much of the experience as possible. Soon, we were given numbers which signified our sequence for joining the moving carpet of followers, shuffling along single file, still in a lotus position. When a devotee reached Amma, instructions were given as to how to approach her; place hands to the right and left of her and lean forward. At that point, Amma would reach out and hug, whispering a special message in the ear of the huggee, before a quick release and assistance off the platform. As each one left the stage, he or she had a distant, blissful expression, and had to be escorted, legs having turned to jelly.

Watching this ritual, while shuffling forward on crossed legs, I was filled with anticipation, wondering how the hug would feel, and what message this great woman would have for me. Eventually I took my turn. I will not share the message, which was meant for my ears only, but I can say that, after being released from Amma's arms, I experienced an indescribable feeling, one that I had never felt before or have since, a feeling that there is more to the world than meets the eye.

As the four of us left the darshan, not a word was spoken, smiling all the way home. Still glowing as I stepped out of the van upon my return, I briefly contemplated donning blanched duds and joining the flock to seek a simpler life. Floating back to earth I resumed my real life, yet retained the memory of that transcendent event.

Alas, there were no improvements in our physical condition, but perhaps the changes occurred at a more fundamental level.

I share this anecdote as an illustration of a simple effort that can make such a large impact: the hug. I firmly believe that a major reason for our devotion to one another is the act of hugging, which is practiced with great gusto whenever we are together. Each hug is a physical representation of an emotional bond that re-kindles an ember at each embrace. Family occasions often overflow with full-body contact, again releasing hidden hormones of happiness.

Which brings me to the point of this pontification - what the world needs now, are hugs, sweet hugs. Not the horizontal ones, the kind that money can buy (a la Spitzer), but a firm squeeze that transfers a bit of human kindness from one participant to the other. Society, and the law dictates that it's bad form to grab a stranger. That's why I'm proposing a new public service facility - the hugatorium. Having a bad day? Why not share an innocent intimacy with a like-minded individual at your local hugatorium. Strictly limited to consenting adults who've passed a pre-screening and been deemed hug-worthy, contact is made and an appointment reserved at the nearest hugatorium. This platonic practice might spontaneously spur the formation of hug-clubs. The possibilities are limitless - hug-offs, a new political party called the Hugocrats, founded on the platform of a hug for every home. Who knows where it might lead. World peace, perhaps?

The moral of this story is: if you are feeling out of sorts, and like the world has passed you buy, you need a hug.

Ask the person next to you. They might need one, too.