Intentions Of Mutual Touch
Presence, Attention And Sensuality
In a culture that both eroticises and fears touch, it has become almost impossible to speak of it without misunderstanding.
The moment the word appears, the mind leaps to sex, to boundaries, to danger.
Yet touch—at its simplest—is the first and most enduring language of human connection. Before words, before identity, before thought, there was touch: a gesture of reassurance, recognition, and shared life.
In the context of the Practice of Peace, touch is not the focus of the work, but it cannot be ignored.
Because we are physical beings, proximity itself carries the possibility of contact. To pretend otherwise would be dishonest. So this page exists to clarify what touch means here, and what it does not.
The Poverty of the Phrase “Non-Sexual Touch”
The expression non-sexual touch is an imperfect shorthand.
It attempts to name what it excludes rather than what it includes.
By defining itself against the sexual, it keeps sexuality at the centre of the frame. In truth, touch can only be understood through its intention—not its absence of something else.
Touch in this practice is not prohibited, nor prescribed.
It is attentive, consensual, and responsive—a living dialogue between bodies that listen. If something feels uncertain or intrusive, either man may speak.
The boundary is not a rulebook; it is a shared awareness.
The Spectrum of Contact
Touch is not limited to hands on skin.
- It can be visual—a kind of recognition through the eyes.
- It can be spatial—the quiet awareness of another’s nearness.
- It can be an embrace, or the meeting of shoulders, or the still warmth of two bodies breathing in the same rhythm.
These gestures, when grounded in care and respect, are human before they are anything else.
They do not carry an automatic sexual meaning; they carry the meaning we place upon them.
When the intention is to reassure, to acknowledge, or to share presence, the contact remains exactly that: presence made visible.
The Role of Intention
Every act of touch carries an intention, whether conscious or not.
A handshake, a hug, a caress, or a hand resting quietly on an arm—all express something of the self.
In this practice, the intention is always to honour, not to possess; to connect, not to claim.
Arousal may occur, as it sometimes does when bodies are at ease and awareness heightens, but it is not the aim, nor is it unwelcome. It is simply one of the body’s ways of showing that it is alive, responsive, and present.
When the intention is clear, there is no confusion.
When two men understand that the purpose of the practice is awareness and peace, not conquest or gratification, touch becomes what it was meant to be: an affirmation of shared humanity.
Consent as a Living Conversation
Consent here is not a form signed in advance; it is a continuous dialogue.
It is expressed in body language, in tone, in the subtle cues of comfort or hesitation. It asks both men to stay awake to the present moment, to notice shifts and respond with care.
True consent is not a contract but an attentiveness—a mutual promise to remain kind, clear, and receptive.
The Return of Simple Humanity
To reclaim touch from fear and performance is to reclaim a vital aspect of being human.
Men, especially, have been starved of affectionate, platonic touch.
In its absence, the body grows tense and the mind restless; loneliness becomes a constant hum beneath the noise.
This practice offers a quiet re-education. It shows that two men can share proximity, warmth, and care without the exchange being sexual, exploitative, or shameful.
In that sense, touch becomes a mirror of peace itself: neither grasping nor retreating, simply being.
When presence replaces performance, and intention replaces anxiety, what remains is the simplest truth— that contact, freely given and consciously received, is not a transgression but a form of grace.
