Seeing with our fingers

My dear friend has a 3 year old daughter who was born blind. The first time I met the little one, her mom had just picked her up from a nap, and in one move said, "Here, meet L" and handed me her little girl.

L showed none of the fear of strangers typical of children her age. Not only was she not fearful, she clung to me and snuggled in like no other child I'd ever held. Mom explained that she's kind of like a little lemur. She just clings on.

L's openness to the world, uninhibited affection, unabashed willingness to take comfort in being held really touched me. There's a purity of emotion with her that's refreshing in a world of ulterior motives and deception.

Mom also volunteered that L seems to like men. She did orient herself when I held her that first time. You could feel her little hands figuring out "oh, yes, this is a man". Little flirt.

Mom brought L to see me at one of my races a few weeks ago. I had hoped L would enjoy the sound of the commotion of the race. Mom is great about giving L a broad range of experiences. After the race I caught up with them, and mom promptly got L out of her stroller to get me my dose of lemur love. I was still in my racing uni.

As I held L, she began to check me out with her hands, as she does with everything in her world. It's fun to see her little wheels turn. She was totally intrigued by two features of my body:

1. My collar bone. She quickly figured out that it was like a handle for her. You could see her mind whirring, "People don't have handles like this...". She was fascinated. She could tell it was connected to a neck and a head and a face and a mouth and a shoulder, but she couldn't get over how pronounced it was. I had never noticed it myself. She did.
2. My tricep. My right arm was around her, and she reached behind it with her left hand and found my arm. She kept squeezing and feeling the sqaureness of my tricep muscle and the indentation between muscle striations. I could tell she was intrigued both by the shapes and the solidity of the muscle. It was hard, and bumpy, yet it moved, and was clearly my arm.

I have a picture of L on my fridge now. She's the most pure spirit I know. She's very "in the moment". While I'm sure her mom would like her to be a little more Zen, remain centered, and not lose her marbles when she's hungry or tired, L is so caught up in the moment of the world around her and so open to being happy.

I had a date this week who was, like L, intrigued by the shape and structure of my body. She touched me very much in the same exploratory fashion that L does. More with finger tips than with whole hands. Being an adult woman and sighted, she was able to communicate about her intrigue. I think it was similar, on some levels. Curiosity not about what I look like, but what I feel like.

My favorite English prof in college used to bring fresh flowers to class. She encouraged us not just to look at them and to smell them but to touch them.

Why look with just our eyes? We may miss discovering that collar bones make good hand holds.