HUMANS AND TOUCH
by Dr. Pega Ren

Many of you will be familiar with Desmond Morris, a zoologist with a penchant and talent for viewing the world with the eyes of an anthropologist and sociologist. He has written scores of books, perhaps most notably The Naked Ape. He has also penned a series of works with self-explanatory titles such as Cat Watching, Dog Watching, and (the unfortunately titled) Man Watching, each informative and captivating looks into animal behaviour and its interpretations. Dr Morris also wrote a much less popular book, Intimate Behaviour, which examines the touching behaviours of humans. I read this many years ago, and forget much of what it contained, but I remember clearly Dr Morris's look at the ingenious and creative methods we use to acquire touch when it is lacking in our lives.

Obvious techniques include visits to massage therapists, who calm and comfort us with their laying on of hands. Morris suggests other less apparent avenues are estheticians (who hold our hands during manicures and caress our faces during facial treatments), chiropractors, and physicians. This need for human touch, Morris explains, drives lonely people to appointments with their family doctors for complaints that in happier times would not require an office visit. Surely stress and depression are correlated with physical complaints. It makes sense to me that our unconscious would steer us to venues where someone would touch us and ask us how we are feeling.

I was surprised with Morris's observation that we seek our hairdressers in times of deprived touch. True enough, getting a haircut (or in 'olden' times, a shampoo and a set) requires our heads being touched, and few would argue about the delight of having our hair shampooed and fussed over. When women were expected to have long hair, doting husbands and loving children could sometimes be found giving Mum's hair its daily one hundred strokes. It was often the subject of magazine illustrations focusing on the happy homemaker. When those same women were sad or depressed, they went shopping for a new hat (days were that women did not leave the house with their heads uncovered, a tradition still observed in some conservative cultures). Though hair length has changed, we still spend daily time and attention on doing our hair. Our choice of style, colour, and texture signals the world about our personality, age, and heritage.

We would be alarmed, and would quickly react, if a stranger touched our head. On the other hand, a lover running fingers through our hair can bring a host of pleasant emotions signalled by sighs, moans, or a catch in the breath. Our heads must touch to kiss or to whisper in a friend's ear. Cradling another's head in our arms is an act of mercy and tenderness. Resting our heads on someone else's shoulder is an unmistakable mark of trust.

I think we under-rate the value of touch in general, and propose that each of you pay attention to how good it feels to massage your scalp the next time you're lathering your shampoo. Brush your hair with intent, noting the sensations and emotions that repetitive stroking can bring. Dedicate some time to luxuriating in the intimacy of brushing, stroking, scratching - whatever feels delightful. Share the treat with friends, lovers, children. I bet we'll all feel better for it.

I'd love to talk more with you about this topic, but I've got to run - I have an appointment with my hairdresser!