The simple sweetness of touching your face

When I was struggling with acne, more than 15 years passed without me ever touching my face (except when I was washing it). I was terrified that putting my germ-laden fingers on it would cause yet more breakouts. And worse, I didn't like the feel of my skin. It was irritated, inflamed and excessively oily due to the oil-stripping products I was using religiously. (Yes, it's a paradox that using oil-stripping products will cause your skin to be oilier.) Touching my skin made me more aware of the itchiness and irritation and, ick, it covered my fingers with a layer of oil.

In the years since I have healed my skin, the simple act of touching my face whenever I want has been such a simple, yet profound pleasure. As I've discovered over the past couple of years, the whole concept of "healing touch" is true. The energy we exchange through gentle physical contact is pure light and love. Even when you are giving that gift of touch to yourself.

We know, instinctively, how important touch is, which I believe is why we so long for romantic partnerships. We live in a culture in which we're more content to bump up against each others' auras, rather than touch each other and in which touching is really only fully accepted between lovers and within the parent-child relationship. We need a lot more than a few hugs here and there, a lot more than a few handshakes. We need long embraces, cuddles and hand-holding.

Our bodies also ask for a touch from its own hands. Sometimes, I awaken from a deep sleep to find myself giving myself an arm rub, which always cracks me up. I like to rub my feet together before I fall asleep. And my face loves to be cradled in my hands - a chin cup, or fingers against my cheek as I'm talking to someone, or fingertips tapping my lips.

And why? Because touch heals. The attention we give to our bodies gives it more health, more love, more light, more energy. My poor little face has been starved for attention, starved for love for so long, and now it is making up for lost time begging me to reconnect with it.

So please, don't be afraid to touch your face. Be sensible, of course - if you've been out in public, touching shopping carts or shaking strangers' hands, keep your hands off your face until you can wash them. But as for the rest of the time - go ahead and cup your chin in your palm as you chat with a friend. Give your cheek a little swish of your fingers. Smooth out your eyebrows with a knuckle. Touch your forehead gently when you have a headache.

Never live in fear of breaking out. Live in the light of giving love to yourself.