The Gourmet Hug
A few weeks ago, a friend sent me a voice message. He told me he'd written something in his journal — that when he needed to remember what heart energy feels like, what it feels like to be held by genuine warmth, he thought of my hugs.
I sat with that for a while.
I've been told I give good hugs. Full-body, draw-you-in, hold-you-longer-than-is-strictly-socially-acceptable hugs. More than one energy-aware friend has commented on my heart energy — my landlord mentions it nearly every time he visits. A reiki practitioner once told me it was radiant, but at the time, encased behind a few glass locks. That was ten years ago. I've done a lot of work since then to open those locks and let it shine. But the hugs — those have always been there.
What I've refined over time, through my friend Nick (whose work introducing people to conscious embodiment and touch has quietly changed lives, including mine), is something I now call the gourmet hug. Nick didn't invent human warmth, but he handed me a container for it. And what I've watched that container do — for me, for the people I love, for strangers who heard about it and came looking for one — has been nothing short of beautiful.
I'm about to head to Sedona to spend a few days with people I met at Soul Magic last year. There's a particular quality to the connections formed in those spaces — something soul-level, something that doesn't require much rewarming even after a year apart. I've been sitting with the anticipatory joy of seeing them again. And one of the first things I'll do when I arrive is give each of them a gourmet hug.

I want to teach you how.
The Approach
With consent, approach your hugging partner going to their left shoulder — your right. This isn't arbitrary. This orientation brings your hearts into closer proximity. In this position, your partner can feel your heartbeat, your breath, the warmth radiating from your chest. Your hands land on their back, on their nervous system. Their hands land on yours. Your bodies, quite literally, are wired for this kind of contact.
A friend of mine — a straight man who had never quite let himself be fully held by another man — received his first gourmet hug at Soul Magic. He told me afterward that he'd felt something he hadn't known he was missing: to feel genuinely loved and held, without agenda, without awkwardness, without anything needing to be proven. It wasn't complicated. It was just presence.
The Duration
This is where the magic lives. Hold for at least three long, deep breaths — one full breath cycle of roughly six seconds, meaning you're in the hug for a minimum of around 17 to 20 seconds. Aim for a longer exhale than inhale: in for a count of three, out for a count of five. You don't need to count out loud. You don't need to sync your breath with theirs. Just let the exhale be long and soft.
Stay as long as feels awkwardly good.
The Benefits
Those 17-plus seconds are doing something. Focused, present contact for that duration is enough to redirect the momentum of your nervous system — not a sudden stop, not whiplash, but a gentle reorientation of your attention toward the sensations of the hug itself. The warmth. The breath. The hands. The heartbeat. Whatever was running in your mind begins to loosen its grip.
Beyond a minute, you'll likely find you've set down things you didn't even realize you were carrying.
The science runs alongside the felt experience: hugs of this duration release oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine, and endorphins. They lower blood pressure. They strengthen the immune system. Your body already knows how to receive this.
The hug just gives it permission.
A Living Thing
At Soul Magic, I hugged everyone. And something quietly remarkable happened: people started giving gourmet hugs to strangers they met there. They started talking about them. People came looking for me specifically, having heard something was available that they wanted to experience. Friends who came from Europe went home and started sharing them there.
One hug rippling into hundreds. It doesn't take much.

We live in a time of growing isolation — more connected by screen, less connected by touch, less permission to be truly held. I don't think that's inevitable. I think we've just forgotten how.
So next time you're with a friend, ask them if you can share a hug — but not just any hug. A gourmet hug. Say those words. Watch their face. Then, whether you explain the whole thing first or just guide them gently in the moment, be present for what unfolds.
Tell the people in your life that you love them. Hugs — and all forms of consensual, caring touch — aren't reserved for romantic partners or special occasions. They're for everyone. They're for now.
With love and open arms,
Sherwood




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