When I am hurt or upset or angry I can probably still put my arms around you or maybe even give you a hug, but I cannot hold your hand and continue walking around with you, not because I can but don't want to, but because I just can't. There is something profoundly intimate and possibly sacred about hands that makes me feel like my heart is punched in all around, wrenched out of its place, thrown and splattered all about inside, when you hold my hand after hurting and upsetting me. You need to make things right, or we need to make things right, before I can hold your hand again. Only then might we brave the journey, and walk on together hand in hand.

When I hold your hand, everything is possible and troubles become trials that strengthen and demons to vanquish. The sun is a happy yellow bouncing ball warm on our faces and affirming in its brilliance. Darkness and shadows have no place where the sun is. When I hold your hand, I am saying I'm glad you're here, and, I'm glad you're holding my hand.

There is something magical about hands. They do something so simple and yet stir so profoundly. :)