Metta: the Art of Loving Touch

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.

If you want to be happy, practice compassion."

— H.H. the Dalai Lama

I touch a lot of people.  With my hands. With my arms. With my heart. With guidance. With massage. With hugs.

And sometimes, there is this conversation that comes up. And it all revolves around the nature of touch. The issue at hand is, when the touch is given, is it coming from a place of sexual desire, or from a place of heartfelt compassion? With touch there is usually a giver and a receiver. The giver is the initiator of the touch. In a trusting situation, if the giver has sexual intention, and the receiver does not, then it becomes uncomfortable for both. So as givers of touch, it is of prime importance to be highly sensitive to and aware of the subtleties of context, energy, and intention... and in most all situations, to concentrate on a deeply compassionate, non-sexualized form of touch.

There is a word for this form in traditional Buddhism. It is called "metta." I first learned about metta in Thai massage classes. And it is how I open almost all my partner and flying yoga classes. At its core it is really simple.

Sexual touch originates from the second chakra, from our genitalia, up our spine, down our arms, and into the receiver. It is orange. It is laced with aggression, even when it is gentle. It comes from the perspective of a lover. It wants connection. It has desire. It asks something from the receiver.

Compassionate touch originates from the heart chakra, from our heart centers, straight out our arms, through our palms, and into the receiver. It is green. It can be feather light, or amazingly strong and deep. Its core quality is that of listening. Metta is an unconditional gift.. it is solely concerned about the well-being of the receiver, and asks nothing in return. It strives to give the receiver exactly the energy he/she needs in that very moment. It is closest to the perspective of a loving parent. It wants healing. It has sensitivity. It is a true gift.

Most people only have experience of touch as: handshakes, hugs, lovemaking, and perhaps fighting. To help people get out of these default modes, and into real metta, I often lead my classes through a simple visualization, which I will share with you here.

Everyone sit in a circle, sitting Indian style, knees touching. Everyone, close your eyes. Extend your arms, and place your hands gently yet firmly on the backs of the people next to you, right atop where their heart is. *Feel* their body. Focus your awareness on the point of contact. Listen. Sensitize yourself to the gentle rise and fall of their spine as they breath deeply, in and out. See if everyone can synchronize the breath... deep breath in... deep breath out... Now, focus your attention on your own breathing. Breath in, and feel the prana, the energy of the universe, filling your lungs. Breath out, and release all your fears and doubts. Continue breathing... slowly... and deeply. Now focus on your heart chakra. Feel the glowing green energy that is pure love... feel it growing and increasing with every breath, with every heartbeat. Visualize that green, glowing, compassionate heart energy flowing, flowing out from your heart, through your shoulders, along your arms, into your hands, through your palms, and into your partner. Listen. Feel what they need. Know intuitively that you have a gift of healing inside you. Transmit that energetic gift, that warm, loving compassion, that heart-felt, heart-forward touch. breath deep. feel. listen. breath. listen. glow... and let go.

So go forth and touch, hug, massage, dance, cuddle... and when you are in a safe container, or a group, or a class, focus on your heart, listen to your partner, and make good metta. :)

Greg Roberts
www.gregroberts.com

metta comes from an unending source of energy... use it with abundance and joy :)

the great escape

LIVE FROM BURNING MAN // BLACK ROCK CITY, NEVADA, USA

On Saturday, once again, I knew I had to run... and this time a long one. So I pulled on my hot pink skirt, strapped on the iPod and headed out into the city. This was my first real tour of the backroads, and it was quite pleasant... so much going on so early in the morning. Many gift breakfasts, coffees, and even a free water camp, which I happily indulged in. I quickly reached the edge of the city, and headed out onto the open playa. I traced a fairly wide road, and to my shock and surprise, saw a pirate flag about a mile out from town, with about twenty to thrity people dancing and laughing. I made the mild detour, and was immediately greeted by a gracious woman who said "hail to the athlete burner! can we offer you a drink... hmmm, you'd probably prefer cool water, wouldn't you?" The male bartender scowled a bit at this suggestion, but I happily accepted, and she offered me a large water bottle which I shamelessly chugged. Its well known in Black Rock City that you can drink all the beer, wine, and whiskey you want for free, but you'd sure as hell BYOW(ater). I was completely honored to be offered wondrous water from a bar, without even asking. Such is the reward for runners!

Livin on the edge..

I continued from there and made a solid line for the fabled perimeter, a perfectly pentagonal orange fence which ostensibly collects drift-trash from the city, but more in my mind serves as a psychological barrier between the dreamland of Black Rock City and the stark reality of the Real World. Approaching this fence, it immediately became clear what had to be done... I ran up to it at full speed, and with a burst of energy, pulled a complete hurdle over the 3' plastic. Suddenly, the world changed. The only thing in my vision, all 200 degrees of it, was crunchy bbone-white desert floor, purple mountain majesty on the distant horizon, and crystal sapphire blue sky. The only sound I could hear was the wind in my ears. It was as if I was the only human on earth, and it was easy to imagine that I was either or both 50,000 years in the past, present, or future. It was completely primal...

and then I saw the 4x4 rolling into my reality. I knew at once it was perimeter, and a brief mental panic struck me as I realised that a) I was without ticket, and b) I could have just as easily run in from Gerlach. The boys pulled up alongside me in their truck... I waved in a friendly innocent manner, and they said "Sir, could you please limit your run to within the boundaries of our city?" I nodded in humble acknowledgement, and made my way back to the fence, where I made another wondrous bunny-hop back into the dance/party/camp/drink/music/chaos of black rock.

A gracious gift of clean water from Pink Pussy Camp, an impromptu photo shoot, and a sprint through center camp later, I arrived breathless to our vehicle, where, to my delight, was Laurel, refueling her CamelBak. She was in deep meditation and I was in deep hyperventilation, so we soon parted ways, I dunked my head in the icewater cooler, and headed back to the camp for a brief chill.

One hour.
Two drinks.
Six miles.
SHAZAM!

training in the desert = good. :)

for more of my marathon training logs, visit:
http://acroyogi.blogspot.com