I Want to Hold Your Hand

I have just finished writing the manuscript for a new book for middle school kids on the World Refugee Crisis. It’s filled with scary numbers—such as the fact that 1 of every 118 people in the world today has been forced to flee from their family homes because of war, political unrest, or religious persecution. Not to mention natural disasters.

But what really drives most of these 68.5 million people to choose to flee rather than stay home is the overwhelming sense of chaos and disorder that surrounds them at home. They are looking for the same thing—a feeling of safety and security. There is a lot of research about basic human needs. I wonder how high on the list feeling safe and secure ranks.

The need for security is demonstrated in so many ways. My new favorite way is when our rabbi’s two-year-old daughter places her hand in mine in synagogue to help her balance during a climb up stairs or just to hold on when she is feeling a little shaky. Of course, mine is just a surrogate hand when her mom’s is occupied, but I like the feeling, and I think she does too. My children are far from hand-holding age any more, but I can still remember when they would willingly take my hand to cross a street or to protect them when they entered an unfamiliar place. It made us both feel more secure.

Little hands, big hands

On the opposite end in the human life cycle is “fear of falling” that aging adults and their highly concerned children experience. Literally losing balance seems truly frightening to me. As I get older, that is more on my mind. Wearing a fall alert necklace or bracelet can bring help, but I’m not sure it assures a feeling of safety for the potential faller. Just in case, I have been working regularly with a trainer at my gym who specializes in us older trainees. I asked him once why we spend so much time focusing on balance. “To make sure you keep getting up and staying up,” he explained. So I’m bending and stretching. Remember the Romper Room lady who urged us to “bend and stretch, reach for the sky”? My reach is a lot more limited, but maybe soon I’ll be able to touch the floor at least.

It’s not just people who have a need to feel safe and secure. Our dog Tess walks pretty well off the leash. She wanders around a little bit and sometimes seems aimless, sniffing everything in her path. But luckily she never takes off on her own journey. When I do take charge and clip on Tess’s leash, she seems to pep up and there is aim in her step. Maybe she is just following my aim, but I like to think that we both are happier and more secure.

Tess on a not-so-tight leash

Tess’s behavior differs from that of our first dog Seymour, also a solid black Scottie, who often took off to look for female companionship, or so we surmise. He almost always returned on his own, though he often seemed just a little tired from his amorous adventures. He came to a tragic end on a dark night in a dark street.  It may be significant that Tess has been crate-trained, and Seymour was not. On gloomy days or especially when there is thunder in the air, Tess often beds down in her crate to wait for sunnier or quieter times. Loud noises also drive her inside. The crate door is open, but she feels safe and secure staying inside.

I came across a website recently that urged all of us to embrace the chaos. One of the 12 reasons that most appealed to me was “so that you will become a better person…faster, stronger, leaner and sharper.” I would settle for leaner at least.

The site also led me to a quote that may have come from the Buddha himself: “The mind is like water,” he said. “When it's turbulent, it's difficult to see. When it's calm, everything becomes clear.”

So maybe what we are looking for isn’t only safety but calmness and clarity as well. And maybe that’s what the Beatles were singing about when they said, “Yeah, you got that somethin' . . . I think you'll understand . . .; When I say that somethin' . . .I want to hold your hand.”