Trust Has Layers
Dictionary.com defines “trust” as “reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc of a person or thing; confidence.” When it comes to trusting ourselves, I’ve often wondered: what comes before that defining moment of confidence? Does trust magically appear out of thin air one day? Do we either have it or we don’t? I’ve come to believe that trust isn’t so black and white, and it’s my firm belief that it actually has layers.
The first layer is that moment when you take a leap into something that pushes the edge of your comfort zone. You might argue with me that the first layer is nothing more than hope or blind faith, where we compensate for a lack of trust with some combination of adrenaline, passion, and will. That may be true, but I think there is a kernel inside of us that trusts in what we are capable of. That kernel might be clouded by fear. It might be so tiny it’s barely noticeable…but I still believe it’s there.
The second layer solidifies before we actually achieve what we’ve been working towards. The small kernel we started with has expanded by virtue of trying things and iterating and seeing that we’re still alive, even if we’re not quite where we want to be just yet. We haven’t reached the destination, but we start to trust with a deep knowing that it’s all leading somewhere. We commit to the process for as long as it’s going to take because we have trust that is beginning to extend beyond milestones and timelines. This trust is strong but not quite absolute. Sometimes we veer off course in those moments of doubt and uncertainty that define the human experience of venturing into the unknown.
The third layer cements the trust we have in ourselves…we’ve achieved that thing we’ve been working towards. We believe in our ability to continue on the path and surpass our wildest dreams. Not only that, we trust that we could start something anew and succeed. This type of trust is earned by doing. Trust doesn’t start when we finally have concrete, undefinable proof of what we’re capable of. It begins the day we choose to venture into the unknown, when we listen to the kernel inside of us that’s been bursting to take the leap.
Taking those first steps into the journey of trust feels like willing yourself to jump into a freezing cold pool. It takes every bit of self will we can muster. It requires choosing not to catastrophize what might happen if we jump. Instead, it requires seeing what we might become if we do; how we might shiver with energy and excitement and aliveness, rather than disaster.
Don’t wait for the magical moment of “confidence” to arrive. Start building it brick by brick. I think you’ll turn around one day in the future and be amazed by what you built and be awed by the trust you have in the person that laid path.
