Text Thomas Lloyd Qualls Photo Kelly Peyton
A Probability of Words
A fitting topic for March, what with the Ides and all. Fitting, too, for this little thing called life. Littered as it is with betrayal. Trust. As if you'd never been betrayed. There's a reason we still read Shakespeare after all this time. He understood that betrayals come in all forms. Betrayal of county, of friends, of family, of love and lovers, of yourself. If you are surprised by that last one, perhaps you haven't been paying enough attention.
Trust. As if you didn't know better. While we walk around guarding ourselves against every conceivable threat from the outside, most of us betray ourselves in small and big ways all day, every day. Mostly it's the little voice that we carry around inside us. The one that nags, criticizes, and unnecessarily narrates our lives all day long. (And all night for those insomniacs among us.) Once we turn on the light of awareness, we realize that all this listening we do to this sociopathic voice in our heads is exhausting.
Trust. As if you'd never been burned. We never really get used to being let down. By ourselves, our friends, our government, those we place on pedestals. Yes, there is a place for discretion. But more often than not, our mistrust sets in motion a negative cycle. Call it phenomenology or whatever you like, but all things are connected. How we look at others has a direct correlation not only with how they see us, but how they act towards us. If we start with our hearts open, we’ll likely not attract the spirit of betrayal.
Trust. As if no one would ever be the wiser. Trust does not come without risk. This is not a story of unicorns and rainbows. Life is risk. The only 8 Reno Tahoe Tonight
way to protect ourselves is to die. Either physically, or spiritually and emotionally. I believe, with the exception of a Caesar or two, we are not so much afraid of betrayal as we are of looking foolish, of getting our feelings hurt, our egos bruised, our so called reputations tarnished. If it helps, next time you are doubting whether to trust your heart, pretend no one is watching. Pretend you fell on the ice and got up before anyone saw. Because, probably no one will know anyway. And it is likely no one will care half as much as you do.
Trust. As if your life depended on it. Because, well, it does. What is the value of a life where you have to walk around constantly checking your back like some meth dealer in an alley? Hopefully that is rhetorical. Unless of course you’re a meth dealer who dwells in alleys. And then, well, you have other problems besides trust. Except it wouldn’t hurt for you to trust that you are worth more than this and to trust that life has infinitely more to offer.
Trust. As if there were no other choices. Because, well, there really isn’t a better choice. We must trust, on some level, in order to function at all in life. Every day we trust in a million little ways. Not just that the lights will work, the water will flow, the car will start, the garbage will be picked up, the bank won’t give away your money. But also that the thousands of cars we pass will stay in their own lanes, that gravity will continue
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