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I have always been a touchy-feely kind of gal. And while I never gave it much thought before, I realize now that I am a chronic hugger, arm-linker and couch-snuggler. But not anymore. COVID-19 has changed all of that.

Now I incessantly ponder the concept of 鈥減ersonal space,鈥� defined generally as the approximate area surrounding an individual that others should not physically violate in order for that person to feel safe and secure.

Science has shown that as humans, we need a buffer, a certain amount of physical distance from others, to feel physically and psychologically safe. This buffer zone nonverbally establishes relationship rules between people; it indicates to others who we will let in and who we will keep out. We move away when someone stands too close when speaking to us. We may flinch when touched on the arm or shoulder by a boss, although that same touch by a parent is generally welcome. We accept hugs from friends but not from strangers.

Historically, personal space has been guided by cultural guidelines, social norms and religious laws. For example, in Iran, a three-kiss greeting is given among men to show respect and create camaraderie. And in many European and Latin American countries, cheek-to-cheek kissing as a greeting is an accepted practice.

In the Hindu culture, touching in public or displays of affection are seen as religiously disrespectful. Even a casual greeting respects personal space as people greet each other with hands pressed together and a bow or 鈥渘amaste,鈥� which is preferred to shaking hands. And during conversation, Hindus stand about 3 to 3陆 feet apart.

Over 2,000 years ago, the idea of personal space was heavily analyzed in the Talmud, the compendium of ancient Jewish texts that form the basis of Jewish law. The idea of 鈥渄alet amot鈥� (or four cubits, which is approximately 6 feet!) required others to remain at least four cubits away from a person praying and did not require the placement of a mezuzah (sacred scroll placed on doorposts) in a room whose size was less than four cubits by four cubits because it didn鈥檛 create a 鈥減ersonal space.鈥�

Today we are in uncharted territory as we walk through a coronavirus-laden landscape with minimal certainty and maximal fear. Personal boundaries are being determined, not by custom or community standards, but by public health officials and governments. Overnight, social distancing has become one of the principal interventions offered to protect and safeguard us against COVID-19.

Currently, the CDC recommends that people not living under the same roof stay a minimum of 6 feet apart from one another at all times and urges contact to be outdoors. Masks should be worn whenever possible. No touching, no hugging, no couch snuggling unless someone is in your 鈥済erm family鈥� and has no symptoms.

As our nation begins the somewhat perilous and frightening reopening of businesses and restaurants in the weeks ahead, we have an opportunity to reevaluate what personal space means to us 鈥� as individuals and as a community. We can reflect upon and prioritize what we鈥檝e missed most about our lives and relationships before COVID-19 took hold. And we can be guided by principles of communal respect for others鈥� personal space, health and safety. It is not a cure for COVID-19, but it is a small step toward restoring our faith in the belief that we still have the power to make a difference.