The dead fish touch, on the other hand, may attempt at gentleness, but comes across with a distinct element of creep instead. I had my hair cut yesterday, and the gal who shampooed me had just such a touch. I believe she meant well. I believe she was trying to be gentle, but it was so soft that it felt excruciating instead. Her touch was weak and under spoken and full of temerity. It made me want to get away.There was nothing soothing about it.
But it got me thinking about touch, and being gentle, and what gentle really looks like and feels like; not what I have unconsciously supposed for all these years. Gentle, it seems to me now, is generous in spirit and backed by wisdom, and a courageous heart. More than anything else, it is an irreplaceable gift of strength subdued.
I appreciate genuine gentleness, and recognize that there's more to it than initially meets the eye.