May 23, 2022


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.




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
as if
there were a guiding hand.

Additional Posts

June 28, 2022

Debbie’s Story

I am creating a special edition of my blog posting this week, as I have had the privilege of being in a particular conversation that I’d say is vitally important at this time, a time of shifting sands, beneath our feet, a time of importance for intentionally crossing thresholds. This posting points to a potent distinction that allows such a threshold crossing. The painting, above, was created by Debbie Hulbert, a participant in our fall 2020 virtual offering of Crossing Thresholds, a course that was based on my newly published book, designed to facilitate participants in crossing their next threshold.…

June 20, 2022

Phoenix Ascends

Every five hundred to one thousand years, it is said, the Phoenix, a beautiful, scarlet and gold, giant, mythical bird, rises from the ashes of its own death. There is, the myth says, only one Phoenix on the planet at any one time. It sets itself on fire, inside of a nest of boughs an spices, and is consumed by the flames. Out of its own ashes, it arises, born newly. The regeneration of itself contains the ashes of its predecessor as an aspect of its next being. What a metaphor! This is such a time, for such an Awakening.…

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