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Sandosenang yakap



“We need four hugs a day for survival. We need eight hugs a day for maintenance. We need twelve hugs a day for growth.” Virginia Satir, psychologist

AMBUSH!

Napigil ang inog ng mundo, tumigil ang daloy ng mga sandali, napigil pati hininga sa mga sandaling iyon… nakakubli sa gilid ng kuna ang tatambang, handa nang sumalakay.

“Nasaan na ba si Musa?” pakunwang paghahanap sa nakaabang sa gilid ng kuna.

Iglap ang tugon na taginting ng awit, pakpak na palasong kumawala sa kaigtingan ng saglit: “Whee-e-e-e-e-e!”

Lalagapak ang kanyang bigat sa aking dibdib, yayakap na mahigpit… “Mwaa-a-a-ah!”

Paulit-ulit na isasadula ang iglap na engkuwentro… hindi mabilang… lalabis sa labing-walolo… labing-walolo… hanggang sumaksak, banayad na sisiksik, isisiil hanggang sa mga himaymay ng dibdib pati alingawngaw ng musmos na hagikgik, pati bunton ng yakap at halik… walang humpay na isinasalin sa ubod ng ulirat.

“My cup runs over… surely goodness and mercy will follow for all the years of my life…”

She didn’t do math in that generous spread of hug heaven. There was too much of quantum mechanics in such devil-may-care romp of spontaneity. The interface ensures more than mutual growth and inner wellness for that imp and her Diablolo.

Parang kailan lang ang sanggol na tuwing umaga’y masuyong hahaplusin, hihimasin sa may 15 minuto ang buong katawan— mula talampakan hanggang ulunan—upang maantig ang kalamnan at mainam na daloy ng kuryente sa samut-saring body meridians… upang tumibay ang mga bisig at tuhod… upang masalinan ng ki at tuluyang tumibay ang kanyang natural immune system. Parang mahika ang dampi at dantay.

Lupaypay ang katawan, nanlulumo at sadsad pati na intelligence quotient ng musmos na hindi binusog sa mapagpalang haplos at yakap.

As clay takes form in the lathe hands of a potter, so does creation takes shape with caring, tender touch… kaya nga ganoon ang isinalarawan ni Michelangelo Buonarroti sa kanyang obra maestrang “The Creation of Adam.”

Opo, hindi lang mahusay na tabas ng katawan, damdamin at isipan ang pinabubulas sa hagod at himas… pati nga mga bilang ng boto sa sanrekwang presinto ay nahihimas-himas upang umayon sa kinahahayukang resulta… ungkatin sina “Hello Garci,” pwe-he-he-he!

Kaya naman ‘yung mga kulang sa yakaplog—kakaiba’t napakasarap na putahe ‘to na talagang maiibigan—karaniwang tuyot o namamaga ang katawan, mainitin ang bumbunan, at sakitin… dahil hindi masalinan ng saya’t sigla pati na natural immune system.

At ang mga musmos at paslit ay ubrang magpakuyumos sa yakap, masiil ng halik ng hangin, araw, ulan o agos sa dagat o ilog… kahit na sa gitata ng putik sa linang. Mother Nature has to be allowed to her hand to nurture a growing child.

Nauulinig lang ang bungisngis ng punong kawayan, kakawate’t balite habang tinatakalan sa umaga ng higit sandosenang haplos at himas… there’s so much of quantum mechanics and untold secrets of qigong that need not be detailed in such a nurturing romp of spontaneity…

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