A 24-arc narrative about an actress who follows a whisper of calling into the healing arts. Told in brief, intimate episodes, the series traces the stories held in bodies, the memories carried in touch, and the way one woman's vocation becomes a bridge between art, healing, and the sacred.
All episodes written and performed by Judy Malloy.
It might come as no surprise that massage brings about changes within a client, and sometimes the therapist is altered by a session as well.
Today's episode speaks to the power of touch in a way that, even 25 years later, takes my breath away. It explores the possibility of seeing the world through a different filter, changing not only one's body...but one's perspective.
When we actually make connections, it is more difficult to judge, more difficult to generalize, more difficult to label one another.
When we allow ourselves to be touched, physically and emotionally, deep healing is possible.
New Episodes will be released on the 1st and the 15th of every month of 2026.
Please share with others that might find a blessing...
SPEAKER_00
Hi, I'm Judy Malloy. Welcome to Where We Touch, a podcast about healing, story, and moments of connection. Personal bias and prejudice are easy to maintain. Stories we've been told feel like certainties. Conclusions we have accepted as truth define how we live. The line between us and them is clearly drawn and tightly held. But sometimes, actual human connection can challenge these assumptions and long-held beliefs. In this episode, we'll explore how one such event took place in my massage practice. Through our professional relationship, a deeply held position begins to change in my client, not through argument or persuasive conversation, but because of physical touch. I'm challenged as he shares his story with me. I am reminded in this story that when we truly meet another human being, it's much more difficult to hold on to the stories that keep us separate. Episode seventeen When Touch Becomes a Bridge to Understanding. As he is opening the door to leave after his appointment, Hassim pauses. Thank you. I feel so much better. I'm so glad. You're welcome. A few minutes later, a tentative knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. It is Hassim. Excuse me. Could we talk? Absolutely, I say, inviting him in. We sit opposite at a small round table in my office in England. He seems unable or unwilling to look at me, which is unusual in my experience of him. After a terribly long moment of silence, he raises his head, chin held high, takes a deep breath and gazes into my eyes. I had planned to cancel my appointment this morning. I didn't know how I could face you. I find this confusing, so I say nothing in response, a relatively rare occurrence for me. My stillness encourages him to continue. Hassim begins to tell me the story of his family. We lost everything during the Lebanese Civil War. Our home, the prestige of my father's position with the government, our wealth, our possessions, everything. Friends and family members died as Christians and Muslims fought for power. Our lives were in danger every day. Penniless and without status, we fled to build a new life from the brokenness. My Muslim community blamed the Christian West, particularly the United States, for their aggressive invasion of the Arabic world. Yesterday I cheered, I thought, finally, someone has held them accountable for all the suffering and all the loss. Finally, someone has made them pay. Finally, there is justice. I suddenly feel nauseous and dizzy, not quite able to comprehend what he is saying to me. He continues, I do not regret the feelings of yesterday, for they are my truth. I returned today to speak because I now realize there is another truth. I realize I am genuinely sorry for any pain this may have caused you or someone you love. You are a citizen of the United States, but I do not hate you. You personally did not invade my country. You are a human being who is helping relieve the excruciating pain in my shoulder, and you happen to be an American citizen. This is an amazing revelation for me. This new understanding may help to heal my anger, and perhaps with time, this wisdom will allow my heart to forgive. He stands, I stand. We look at one another with great compassion and gentleness. Thank you for sharing your story with me, Hassim. I am so sorry for the suffering you have known in your life. I am so sorry for any role my country played in your pain and loss. I open the door and he exits my healing room. It is September 12th, 2001. I sit down at the table again. What an extraordinary conversation I have had. Years later, as I retell this story here, I am reminded of a quote from Terry Waite, an envoy for the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was himself taken hostage five years during the Lebanese Civil War. He says, It is through connection and understanding that we dismantle the walls of hatred. Nearly twenty-five years later, I believe Terry Waite is correct. And I'm so grateful that I had a personal experience of that truth. If you have another few minutes, maybe you could join me for a brief meditation. Find a comfortable place to sit, or maybe it would be nice to lie down today. Notice how your body is supported beneath you. Allow this awareness to settle your mind and deepen your breathing. Take a deep breath in and out in and out. In the quietude of this moment, I invite you to bring to mind someone whose experience is different to yours. Is it challenging? Is it uncomfortable? Just sit with whatever assumptions or stories arise. Simply observe and notice. Now, imagine setting any stories aside, not because they are wrong, but because there might be more to learn than you first imagine. What if you allow yourself to recognize that there might be a deeper truth in what you observe on the surface? Take a moment to contemplate that beneath every stranger is a shared human experience of joy, of loss, of grief, of fear, of hope. Does this reflection allow what feels foreign or other to seem less so? As you return to your life this day, may you allow yourself to remain curious and open to people you do not fully understand? In recognizing where you are more alike than different from others, can the walls that divide you from others begin to be dismantled? Can connection and understanding begin the work of healing in our world? Thanks for listening to Where We Touch. Written and performed by me, Judy Malloy, edited and mastered by John E. Brady. This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the best of my memory. While all the stories in this podcast are true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved.
