I grew up in California at a time when swimming was a part of the high school curriculum. A life guard was a full-time faculty member, whose only responsibility was to insure the safety of the students in the water. Well, in a moment of negligence on his part, I almost drowned! Although that moment occurred some 47 years ago, I can still viscerally recall those moments. Death literally stared me in the face!

For many years after that I would not get close to a swimming pool. Perhaps the school waived the state requirement for me so that my family would not press charges. As the years went by, I watched many of my friends enjoy swimming pools and days at the beach while I was frozen with fear.

During all of those years, I had a deep seated longing to become friends with the water. It wasn’t the water that was my enemy; it was my fear of the water that immobilized me. That same water that represented death to me represented profound joy and pleasure to many other people.

So year in and year out I was tortured with a calling from within: I must conquer my fear, or continue to let my fear conquer me.

And so it is for each of us with the “swimming pools” of our lives. The objects themselves are neither good nor bad: they just exist. It is our fear or our willingness to learn how to swim that determines whether or not we will get from the starting point to the finish line.

So, finally, at the age of about 53 I learned how to swim. I had some wonderful teachers  — who were like children to me (“And a little child shall lead them”) — but they taught me how not to be afraid of the water. One of the most important aspects they taught me was to relax and float on my back. I could not do that if I had any amount of tension and/or distrust. It is imperative that I let go and trust the water. The water really will take care of me, but only if I let it. That is perhaps the most difficult aspect, because, as a leader, I am so accustomed to being in control. The more I try to be in control, the more I will sink.

Now my fear of the water was not unjustified. Fear has its place in our lives. Its function is to warn us of possible harm. If a child just gets in the ocean without knowing how to swim, they will drown. My teachers were my angels that surrounded me with love and guidance, showing me the things I needed to do to make the water my friend. What is more, they let me know that they would always be there to protect me, in case I got in trouble.

We humans have a fundamental need to belong; we need to feel emotionally connected to others.  When we do not experience enough human contact in our lives, we feel lonely.  Loneliness is especially common following the death of a loved one or the ending of a relationship, or when a person spends much of his or her time at home.  Loneliness may be spiritually enlightening, but it could also lead to a self-perpetuating cycle of depression.  That is why it is essential for those who do feel loved to seek out and extend a hand to those who are becoming disconnected.  A little bit of human kindness and compassion may prevent a great deal of anguish.

What elements in your life distract you from noticing those with social needs?  When you do notice someone who might be lonely, what fears cause you to hesitate in engaging him or her?  How valid are those fears?  When you begin to feel lonely, does receiving a phone call, a visit from a friend or a pleasant conversation make a difference?  Who do you know right now who could use some extra support?