“Trust is a confusing thing; it seems so simple but when you
try to pin it down, it can be elusive. I think of the way that my body sits on
a surface that’s new to me, unknown, and how my muscles remain tight,
anticipating anything, and I’m constantly aware of that surface. Over time I
can relax, and start to lean back. For many of us, that initial tension exists
so much of the time. We expend so much energy watching and calculating, trying
to predict. Reading signals in people, ready for anything to change
suddenly…preparing to be disappointed. So much energy spent.
We talk about trust as something you build, as if it’s a
structure or a thing. But in that building, there seems to be something about
letting go. What it affords us is a luxury that allows us to stop thinking, to
stop worrying that someone won’t catch us if we fall, to stop scanning for
inconsistencies, to stop wondering how other people act when they’re not in our
presence. It allows us to relax a part of our minds so that we can focus on what’s
in front of us.
And that’s why it’s such a tragedy when it’s broken. A
betrayal can make you think of all the other betrayals that are waiting for you
and things that you haven’t thought of, and people you rely on. And you can
feel yourself tightening up, bracing. And in the worst cases, you might resolve
to trust no one. But that doesn’t really work. Trust is your relationship to
the unknown, to what you can’t control – and you can’t control everything.
And it’s not all or none. It’s a slow and steady practice of
learning about the capacity of the world – and it’s worth it to keep trying.
And it’s not easy.”
