This year we have all struggled with social distancing. We have seen so many different ways to ensure that we keep our distance –from diagrams on the floor to pool noodle hats. The truth is, we already knew how to keep our distance from strangers. In the United States, six feet between strangers is the norm and when we are forced to be closer than that we use other strategies to maintain distance (like avoid eye contact). So what we have truly struggled with this year is maintaining social intimacy while simultaneously maintaining physical distance from family and friends who do not live with us.
Physical proximity is a key component of intimacy. We use “nearness” as a measure for grouping. Gestalt psychology identified this principle in the 1800s; items that are near each other – even if they are not similar – are organized as a group. For example, different flowers (roses, lilies, tulips) become a bouquet when they are tied together. Our social groups are formed this way too. We know someone is a stranger if they are physically distant from us; we know they are part of our intimate circle if they are near us. We look at a baby we do not know; our baby sits on our lap. Others know we are intimate because of that proximity, a level of closeness reserved for that relationship. Every day we scanned the world and made these quick and usually valid assumptions about intimacy based on proximity. On the first day of class, students select a seat closer to friends; they leave space if they enter a room and see only unfamiliar faces. We assumed people were family and friends because they hugged, they shared a chair, they were holding hands, or they were resting their heads on each other’s shoulders.
Covid-19 changed all of that. Suddenly, intimacy could not be determined by physical proximity. Family members outside the “pod” had to keep the same physical distance as total strangers. Our confusion was made worse by calling it social distancing, putting in our minds that we needed to keep away from people, we needed to limit our interactions. Really all we needed to limit was our proximity. Our task, our very difficult task, was maintaining social intimacy in the absence of touch.
This new path was a struggle for all of us; it was a struggle because touch is a key part of intimacy. Some have managed better than others. For some, technology has helped; video calls allow a greater perception of proximity than an audio call does. For some, those with a yard or access to outdoor space, the “seeing” eased it a bit. But at the end, the roller coaster of emotion always included a desire to touch. We didn’t – and still do not – know how to end a call or a visit; the usual was a hug, a handshake, a touch of some kind.
I do realize that with the vaccines and all we have learned this year, physical intimacy will return. But it is still months away. We need to use this time developing new strategies for intimacy. Where a hug could make us feel loved, we need to be better at using our words to express it. We need to use our eyes better, use them to express the tenderness we feel inside. We need to use our words of support more frequently. We need to share our thoughts more frequently (even the bittersweet ones the “I made this meal I know you like – it made me think of you and miss you – I can’t wait until we can share the meal again). We need to share our recipes, our strategies, and our hopes. We need to share ourselves on a deeper level and if we do that I guarantee you that when we do hug again – and we will – it will be even better than we remember!
