When I say I trust you, first what I am saying is I trust myself.
Trust doesn’t begin with another.
Trust begins inside of who I am for me.
Many personal experiences can create an inner story which negates the ability to trust. Abuse, fear, pain, anger challenge my inner sense of veracity. Digging into my tenderness, into the inner vulnerability I instinctively protect, these deeply emotive experiences tear me a part at the very core. In the rending, I lose myself and forget I cannot fail.
From this assault, builds my story about trust. Specifically, I can’t trust myself. Because in the judgment of me by me, I find myself guilty. It’s my fault is the charge. In the guilt I don’t stop to consider that fault is not the issue. Instead the negative story comes from me giving up on me. Not because I was wrong but because I let myself disappear.
In the absence, I miss the key ingredient of any life event: learning! If I think my life is about attaining some form of perfection, then fault, blame, assault will be the ugly cherry on top of any life event. However, if I see life — my life in particular — is about the growth along my path, then the entire focus of my life shifts. In the moment of fail, I see learning instead.
When I’m worried about failing, I’m moving myself into a place where inner trust is difficult if not impossible. When I am focused on life as a journey for learning, I’ve kept my ability to trust myself intact, unbroken, functional. My true story is that trust is intrinsic.
With learning is life’s purpose, failure is not on the menu of possibility for my life. In this balance, I feel my center stable and … trustworthy. Nothing to be created or found or retrieved. Trust is. Intrinsic to who I am, I trust myself.
This awareness banishes my personal story of mistrust, bringing me to center, aware and confident. I trust. I trust myself. I trust.
To trust you requires one more step: Truth.
At my heart center is my awareness of my truth. Truth resonates within my heart, radiating from my center within my awareness of balance. In other words, I feel truth. But only if I trust myself do I feel confident in what I feel. When trust is shaky then my ability to trust my truth is shaky as well. Trust restored reinforces the sturdy feel of my truth.
Now, with trust and truth, I can consider this question: Do I trust you?
Letting my head charge in and debate the relative merits of your case is easy and tempting. For me this can turn unnecessarily adversarial, devolving into fault, blame, or judgment.
Instead this is an issue for my heart. This is the moment to focus on my feelings, to feel into my center.
Instead of the noise in my head, I look to the quiet of my heart center.
I feel you there. I feel for resonance. I feel for alignment.
My heart tells me if you are trustworthy.
In my trust, I feel the answer: Yes!