Trust and faith. Two small words. Words that we throw away every day on the superficialities of our lives. We 'trust' in certain products. We have 'faith' in politicians. We use these words to represent how we feel about the external; we trust other people and things, we have faith in Gods and philosophies. Rarely do we apply these terms to ourselves; to the internal. I wonder how many of us truly trust our own selves, how many of us have faith in what we choose, what we think, what we know.
The last couple of weeks have been an awakening. I have understood for the first time how little I trust myself and I wonder how epidemic this failure is. I look back on the minutiae of my life and realise that everything I have thought and felt and experienced has been infused with an ubiquitous faithlessness. This has often manifested in an intrusive taunting voice that whispers "The grass is greener over there...". I change my mind like I'm changing my underwear, like my choices and feelings are something material that can be discarded and rendered meaningless. This was how I was taught to deal with anything of inner meaning. The classic British working class ethos of "Have a cup of tea, stop thinking about it and everything will be OK". I saw my strength as my ability to 'just get on with things', to be emotionally hard (although this was always only with regards to anything of depth - I can cry within just a few minutes of some cheap, schmaltzy Disney movie). I always believed that this hardness was practicality but I now realise that it was faithlessness; a profound distrust in my own instincts. This lack of faith reaches into every aspect of my being, and it is the root of all my misery and sadness and frustration.
And the funny thing is... I always know... my spirit (or whatever you want to call it... jeez, I still revolt against these 'esoteric' terms) always speaks the truth to me, and I finally understand that it's about time I started trusting myself.
(Tessa by Carsten Fleck)