I am an asthmatic. This isn’t some grand announcement, that is just the way it is. But for those who have normal functioning lungs, I’d like to throw out a scenario and later an analogy.
On those terrible asthma days, (and sometimes the normal ones) when the struggle to breathe is at its worst, I probably get about ONE good breath in FIVE. (maybe?) I can feel those shallow breaths and it is not at all appealing. I can almost see my lungs attempting to reach full capacity and it remains just shy of its mark. The gasping like a fish out of water then starts to occur. It’s really a problem. For whatever reason my neck starts to itch and I’m taking a moment just to focus on breathing. That thing that should be as natural as…. breathing… On that fifth inhalation, I can feel my lungs fill to the expanse that God intended. I smile to myself, satisfied…
That was a good breath of air, I think to myself.
Now for an analogy to hugs. I am such a dork, I realize. but I’m running with it. Anyone who knows me, knows I have an appreciation of hugs. Hugs and handshakes, because a bad handshake is a future bad hug waiting to happen. (truth) Based on this particular love of hugs, I have realized that a good hug is like a good breath of air. (I can make the analogy.. I know the good ones.) There is something filling and satisfying there. There is safety and completion with the good ones. They leave me satisfied, pleased with that one good “breath of air.”
You have
-family hugs
(with a special note to nieces and nephews and little kid neck squeezes)
-best friend hugs
-solid guy hugs
(these top ones are interchangable for top position)
-friend hugs
-hugs
-side hugs
-those painfully awkward side hugs
-just awkward hugs
-and last but certainly not least, the ohmygoshwhydidiagreetothis hug
And honestly, sometimes it’s ONE good hug in FIVE.
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