Trusting the Invisible

"In returning and rest you shall be saved. In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength."
--Isaiah 30:15

It has come to my attention lately that in the course of much of my everyday life, I don't really trust anything or anybody... not really. I have a story that I do, but when it comes down to it, I don't. And it also occurred to me that whenever I don't trust someone, who is not trustworthy? It's me, of course. What is it that I don't trust? What is the source of this cynicism? Because ultimately, that's what it is. And I see it mirrored in the world and people around me, that inability to really trust the world or anyone in it. Even well-meaning people can't be trusted, because they have no control over an untrustworthy world. And of course, we can't help it when we are untrustworthy, because simply surviving in the world requires us to sometimes do untrustworthy things. And on and on and on. It's like I'm chasing my tail (if I had one), trying to find the root of this perception.

What I do know is that what I trust most, perhaps the only thing I really trust, is what I can't see. The unseen feeling of rest and wholeness that comes on me, unbidden, when I am listening to the leaves blow in the wind. The feeling of wholeness when I am not asking anything of myself or anyone else, just basking in Being. I trust this unseen Beingness, because it is the one True thing in the world. When I rest in the Beingness that I really am, there is no need to trust anyone or anything, including myself. I am Trust.

Like love and gratitude, trust is an unseen harmonic of the music of our true Self. It isn't because someone or something does anything, or is anything at all. Like love and gratitude, it exists automatically when all expectations are dropped, when we rest in what IS. Like love and gratitude, trust simply doesn't exist in the world. It lives in me, in the silence of my true Self.