Once upon a time, there was a young and handsome boy who endured the indignities of life secure in the knowledge that his friends, at least, loved and cared for him. He also know that his much older brother loved him. And he was secure in his life for his older sister often acted as his champion.
( Read more... )And it has gone well. Very well.
I think trusting is a natural way of being for people (kids do it pretty easily). But our experiences tend to add reserve to our manner. Enough experience at the wrong time can create emotional hermits of a person. To give that up and trust voluntarily even in the face of uncertainty -- or, maybe, especially in the face of uncertainty -- is nothing short of heroic. To move from paranoia to trust can only be considered miraculous.
Sometimes I ache for those moving from trust to isolation. It's just not a pretty place to live. I also ache for those who love the chronic non-truster. Joyous living will seem always a little out of reach.
It's a hard road in either direction, but one direction has more shade, better rest stops and a damn sight more love and intimacy. The direction of greater levels of trust requires bravery or, possibly, foolhardiness. The other direction requires little of the traveler and is often disguised as the prudent course.
Life is, however, what we choose to make of it. In my world, trust is the far more rewarding direction to travel.