January 27, 2012.

Trust is a BIG word.   How do we trust anything in a world that pretty much offers impermanence as the only thing we can truly count on?

As a therapist and one of the human beings I’m talking about here, I’m confronted on a daily basis with the reality that most of us earthlings believe that in order to trust there has to be some degree of permanence.  At the very least, we want some sort of guarantee that our next step is going to put us where we want to be or get us what we think we should have.

We want to trust so badly that we’ll pretend we have guarantees or at least that it’s possible to have them.  We’ll go to great lengths to maintain that illusion.  We do it with relationships, and cars, and jobs.  We find the perfect model, and we breathe a huge sigh of relief.  We’re done.  He’s/she’s/it’s mine now.  Forever.

But then they leave, or the car is a lemon, or the job doesn’t need us anymore.  Which brings us back to the reality of what we can trust.  We can feel confident that what we have in this moment is real, and ours for the taking.  If we’ll appreciate it for what it is.  A part of our life in this moment.  To be experienced in this moment—tasted, full-body hugged, cherished and then let go—to make room for the next experience.