“Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
I don’t know how to start talking about trust. How can I talk about something I know so little about, if I am completely honest?
At the root or core of my life experience, no single person has been 100% trustworthy. I have not been able to trust myself. While I trust God in the long run, it seems unreasonable to trust God in some of this day-to-day when so many horrific things take place day after-day-after-day. (please note, this is not written to be a theological discussion and in fact, this is an exercise in vulnerability which I believe God appreciates.)
Perhaps this is why I have been so focused on writing haiku for the last two hundred plus days. I can trust one simple action – and now, since July 2, I have been “writing sunrise haiku” because I trust the sun to rise, each and every day.
I can trust that.
I can look up the time of day it will move above the horizon and every day – whether the clouds cover it or it is clear as a whistle, the light comes.
This I trust.
I have trusted myself to scribble seventeen syllables each morning as well: not because my boss told me if I didn’t I would be in trouble. I wrote haiku because I thought it would be fun, not because a doctor told me to do so. I contemplated at least one present moment every day because I knew it was good for my spirit and maybe even for the spirit of others – not because of any oath or promise or contract other than the one I made with myself.
For the last 206 days I have proven to myself in this one instance I am trustworthy.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe reminded me this morning, “As soon as you trust yourself, you will know how to live.”
This morning I shared my sunrise photo and haiku on my facebook page in the same way I have been doing for all these days. Within the first moments, people were enjoying it – and receiving peace simply by looking at the photo and reading the words.
I am slowly gaining trust in myself again and my actions are in alignment with this trust.
When we are open to explore and be authentic with our responses to questions such as these, we will grow in ways unmeasurable. Yes, we will truly know what it is to live.
Note: This essay began as a free-flow writing exercise and as a result has had minimal editing. Sometimes trusting the raw word-flow is what is most important.
Julie JordanScott, the Creative Life Midwife, is a writer, a poet performer, a Creativity Coach, A Social Media Whiz and a Mother of three. One of her greatest joys include loving people into their greatness they just aren’t quite able to realize yet.
Julie is also one of the Founders of Bridge to the New Year. Join us now in 2020 in #Refresh2020 to reflect, connect, intend and taking passionate action to create a truly remarkable rest of 2020. Click the graphic below to join the Private Facebook Group to join the conversation!