My daughter recently began letting me brush and tie her hair. Every morning before breakfast, she brings me the little tin box filled with hair ties and clips, then climbs up onto her high chair. I brush her hair gently as she picks out her ties for the day. Her hair is soft, wavy, and fine. She has my husband’s hair color and my texture.
As I move through the familiar rhythm of brushing, a rush of oxytocin, joy, and love courses through me. I feel wrapped in a comforting calm – just my daughter and me, on a sunny spring morning in this little home we’ve made our own. Then suddenly, time seems to pause. The air feels still, and for a moment, it’s not me as the mother anymore. I’m the little girl again, sitting quietly as my grandmother brushes my hair with the same tenderness.
The air feels still, and for a moment, it’s not me as the mother anymore. I’m the little girl again, sitting quietly as my grandmother brushes my hair with the same tenderness.
This simple morning ritual, ordinary on the surface, holds so much sensory memory. As I smooth her hair and tie her braid, a wave of emotion rises – not just memory, but a bond passed through generations. I realize that although my daughter only shared a short time with my grandmother before she passed, her love didn’t end there. It’s still here. It lives on – just as it does when I recreate my grandmother’s recipes for my children. Her love continues in these small, gentle, sensory moments; in the touch of a hairbrush, the scent of a favorite dish, the softness of a morning light. These are the ways her love speaks now, beyond words.
The Power of Sensory Connection
As a highly sensitive person, I’ve come to see how the smallest moments – brushing hair, holding hands, sitting close, cooking for our loved ones – often carry the deepest meaning. These aren’t just daily tasks. They’re how we love and connect.
Sensory memory is their first language of love
This is what I’ve come to understand as sensory memory – the way our bodies hold on to the feeling of being safe, seen, and loved. When I brush my daughter’s hair, I’m not just getting her ready for the day. I’m helping her build a sense of rhythm, calm and comfort her body will carry, maybe for life.
Brushing hair, holding hands, sitting close, cooking for our loved ones – often carry the deepest meaning.
I know this because I still feel it – the memory of my grandmother’s hands, the softness of her touch, the quiet presence we shared. It’s stayed with me all these years, not in words, but in feeling.
For our children, especially sensitive ones, these moments shape how they feel, think, and grow. Sensory memory is their first language of love.
Why I Started Feel Think Play
This is part of why I started Feel Think Play.
I wanted to create a space where we could honor the quiet power of sensory experience – the kind that nurtures learning, healing, and connection not just for our children, but for us as parents too.
Because sometimes, brushing hair is more than brushing hair. It’s remembering where we come from, and choosing to carry that love forward, one gentle stroke at a time.
Sometimes, brushing hair is more than brushing hair. It’s remembering where we come from, and choosing to carry that love forward.