Trust is elusive, to say the least.
I trust in something Whole that may be called
the Tao, the Ultimate, or God.
I confess though, I don’t trust the separate parts.
The components, so to speak, are insubstantial
and cannot bear my weight.
I don’t trust that life will always bring
what I assume that it has promised,
not because life is somehow bent,
but because so many factors hide between the promise
and my idea of how it should be kept.
“I’ll be there in the morning,” is sincerely spoken,
but it may be this morning, or tomorrow,
or next week, or maybe never.
I don’t trust events to unfold
according to some plan of mine,
born within the synapses of my brain.
How, then, do I find a place for trust to rest?
The Tao Te Ching asks me:
“Can you wait patiently for the dust to settle
so the way ahead comes clear?”
This is trust – to sit and wait.
Wu-wei – “letting life live itself,” requires patience.
Not to do; not to fix; not to force…
I can hold out for a while, but soon,
I jump back into the fray, for,
if I don’t, what then becomes of me?
Ah, there is the question.
There is the key.
If I wait for long enough, I sink
into the flow that does not simply carry me,
but envelops me, infuses me, and becomes me.
Trust, then, becomes the very nature of my being.
What else, who else could I be?