Sunsets on the beach
When we were walking along the beach, a school of dolphins paralleled our path and a flock of pelicans circled – we were talking about current events. It seems life unfolded the last couple of weeks around a certain theme – trust.
Who to trust? rather was the theme.
At one point in the myriad of conversations I had at least ten people vying for my trust and I was trying to read my gut but kept returning to validity in everyone’s argument and no argument of my own. E had asked if it was a relief about the adoption grinding to a halt and I said not about the baby, but about the process which has driven me insane.
Elsewhere a similar argument ensued, major decisions seem to abound, ones I have little control over the outcome, and yet at each juncture someone is asking me to get on the bandwagon with them and I feel not necessarily paralyzed, but more like, in the words of Bartleby the Scrivener, “I would prefer not to.”
The problem when trust erodes in one place it starts to call into question all areas you have hitched your life to – trust is a big layer of faith that the person you are trusting has your best interested at heart or at least top of mind. Even when two walls of trust are crumbling on the three wall stage, the ambiguity infiltrates even the most steadiest of your concerns.
At the end of the day, walking into the sunset of the beach, it’s yourself you have to trust, that you will be fine with whatever outcome and that no matter how cataclysmic or minute the experience that awaits, you will deal, you will pick up the pieces and move on, you will not only live, but in the end thrive. That’s the faith you hold absolute.