I got all teary on the treadmill today during my workout.

Usually I just sweat and kick my own butt, but somewhere between miles 3 and 4 I got all emotional thinking about life and its many passages.

The trigger for me getting mushy was this: My gym looks out over a swimming pool, and today I watched a mom teach her little boy how to swim.

I was reminded of the same moments years ago when teaching my daughter how to swim…..and this week she graduated from college.

This little guy was about 2 and all gung-ho. He started at the steps and lingered by his attentive mom as she guided him out a few feet and back. She was letting him get used to being in the water without feeling the steps under his feet.

He went from the steps, to the 3 foot depth marker, to the 4.5 foot marker, then back to mom's arms. Fun! Then he got out of the pool to walk around and experiment with something fascinating and new: the pool ladder! He walked on his own around the pool as mom hustled through the water to meet him at the ladder. There he climbed and jumped and splashed, all the while knowing his mom was there to grab for safey.

Ah, learning to swim. What a great, early lesson on the balance between risk and safe harbor, courage and comfort.

Swallowing a little water and struggling along the way are to be expected of a 2-year-old. We just forget that those same expectations are relevant when we’re 22, or 42 or 72.

A full life is an ongoing series of baby steps, great leaps, and retreats to the pool steps. Just don’t stay on the steps.