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Trust

May 23, 2022

Trust

By Amba Gale

Without trust, there is no peace.

I have been thinking a lot about trust of late, trust in the universe; trust in the Tao, trust in the journey, trust that we belong to one another, that we are interconnected, as deeply as the roots of the aspen grove are connected to one another underneath the soil.

Brother David Steindl-Rast, Benedictine monk and one of the great spiritual teachers of our time call Faith, which is very resonant with Trust, “the bliss of certainty.”

That phrase stays with me, begging to be examined, as we know that the only certainty there is, is uncertainty; the only permanence is impermanence, and that while there are a few things we can control, the world is going to take whatever course it does, whether we lay our “sticky fingers” as Anne Lammott would say, on it, or not.

So: how do we come to trust?

Well, if I am on “automatic” and identify myself with my triggered reactions, I don’t. If I allow my reactions to trigger me, I can only go the route of resisting, denying, complaining, ignoring, comparing, fixing, protesting, and railing against.

Trust, on the other hand, starts with standing on a ground which is whole, complete. I gift myself with the grace of forgiveness, which brings me to wholeness. From there, trust can be created.

Trust is a surrender to whatever is. It is a letting go, and by my conscious say-so, my speaking, my declaring, my saying, “I trust.” I hold whatever comes to me as a gift, a guide, a partner, and a friend for my own evolution. I have faith that for my particular journey in this particular lifetime, I am being given exactly what I need.

Coming into this “bliss of certainty,” I am at peace.

 

 

Peace

By Amba Gale

The sun is bright today.
The sea is calm,
the water close upon our shore.
The houses on the cliff away
greet the sun in peace.

Nearby, three candles light my
way to day
and tell me I am safe.

Still groundless
in this time of chaos,
I embrace
the groundlessness,
speak that I am well, that all is well.

And all goes to its destination
as though there were a guiding hand.

The tide goes in.
The tide goes out.
The rhythms of the tide are clear.

And life moves towards its
destination
as if
there were a guiding hand.

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