Trust 2: Prerequisites

In the line “he trusts her” the he is the giver of trust and she is at the receiving end. If she is really rotten and selfish, he is crazy to trust her. But what if she's honest, loyal, caring? And he still doesn't trust her completely? She gets out of her way to prove her trustworthiness, but at the slightest silence, he panics or gets angry: “She doesn't like me anymore. We're no longer friends.” She could become a slave, disloyal to herself, trying to comply and pacify him the moments when his Trust gives out. Or she might give up the friendship. Pity, it could have been so nice.

What's wrong here? Why is he not trusting someone with lots of loyalty? The problem clearly lies within the Giver, in the him of our example.

1. Is it the way he looks at others?
2. Is it what he imagines others will think of him?

The first perspective is about experience. When bad experiences outweigh positive ones, it becomes harder to trust a normal loyal person. That is what bitterness can do. These experiences can come from one's own relationships, or from witnessing the relationships of others. Parents, siblings, colleagues.

The second perspective has to do with self image or self esteem. One can have too little of it (Low Self Esteem, LSE), a healthy amount (High Self Esteem, HSE) or too much (which I call Excessive Self Esteem, ESE). The latter enters the field of narcism, which I don't want to discuss here.

Now what did I say about Trusting? It's a freely chosen dependency, counting on the other party's loyalty. In every type of relationship.

Oooh, dependency . Is it about a healthy dependency or a sick one? Can one pull out when necessary, or does ones whole life depend on it? We'll see.

I'll limit my post to comparing people with low self esteem and high self esteem, in the way they trust a normal, trustworthy, partner. 

Someone with low self esteem thinks that nobody likes him. People may say they do. But they are either lying or will change their minds soon.Which is either stupid or arrogant, by the way: one cannot know what the other thinks

In a relationship, the person with LSE will have his Trust torn up by doubts very often. He needs a lot of reassurance.

On the other hand, the same person may think he needs to buy himself into the relationship. Because he believes that he himself is worthless and only his material assets - money, gifts-  are appreciated. 
Poor LSE-er: the gifts may become more than a partner will feel comfortable with. 
 

Since LSE has its effect on every type of relationship, the person with LSE probably is faltering through life. The new relationship, be that friendship or a love relationship, becomes the One thing, getting all of the focus. Not only because he has nothing better going on. Also because being in a relationship increases his value. The relationship determines the value of his entire life. A sick dependency is coming up. So much , that the person with LSE might accept disloyalty from the partner, even pick himself bad partners. The danger of negative experiences lurks around.

Someone with high self esteem probably has a busy life, with many friends and interests. A love relationship or a new friendship is a beautiful addition to that life, but it is not everything. So a person with HSE will not easily end up in a sick dependency. Neither will a person with HSE accept disloyalty.

Someone with high self esteem knows that he is likeable, loveable. He is free to reject relationships, because others are waiting around the corner.

Since a person with a positive self image realises that he is important to others, prolonged silence of a (business) partner does not shatter his trust. Neither does a person with HSE have the compulsion to buy himself into a relationship, so no embarrassing showers of attention and gifts.

If the partner is ditto, there's a healthy ground for the relationship to evolve. It'll become strong and transparent, like a diamond.

When it comes to gathering experience: people with low self esteem have a higher risk of negative experiences. On the other hand, they can also remain isolated for a long time, prolonging their naivety.

When you have HSE, your chances of good experiences are better.

Now there we have the switch of the permanently burning lamp: the more you appreciate yourself, the more you know that others like you too. That makes it easier to trust someone: there's little or no doubt at the moments that there is no 'prove' from the partner. You don't fall into thinking 'She doesn't like me anymore'.

Simply because you believe in yourself. And because this 'system' often renders positive experiences, it reinforces itself. 

 Do you have a negative self image?  Take another look at yourself!

Mind you: LSE can be cured, so no worries. 
You may even cure yourself, by living your life, trying new things, taking risks of banging your nose once in a while … and cherish every tiny positive result.

If you think you're not worth that try, do it for others. Because you obviously can't trust -and love- someone else well enough, if you have a negative self image. Love thy neighbour as you love yourself, right?

Trust 1: Definition

Five letters, such a tiny word. So essential to life. 
Do you really know what Trust is? What it is and what it takes?
Having nothing better to do travelling from my hometown to my training, I decided to trust the crowd of the morning rush hour -that they would not step on me, not read my notes over my shoulder nor pick my pockets- and see if I could figure out why trust comes easy to some and so hard to others. 
Thinking while writing, not knowing where I will end up is what I like most.  Actually: at one point I ended up at a wrong  station, having forgotten to change trains at an earlier  station 
Forgive me if I make wrong linguistic conclusions... I'm not a native english speaker. Sesame Street and MASH were my teachers.


What is Trust?
Trust in God, trust your friends, trust yourself. Trustworthy, untrustworthy.

If you don't have enough Trust in your body, could you go to the general store and buy some? How would that affect your life?
"Goodday sir."
- "Morning ma'am."
- "I'd like to buy some trust."
- "Here you are lady."
I pay the price mentioned. not that I trust the owner in mentioning a fair price. I just don't bargain because I believe that I'm not going to win anyway.

Are believing and trusting the same? I think they're close, they're brothers. But no twins (sorry if I insult twins with that). 'I believe you' or 'I believe in you' is different from 'I trust you'. But how? Please say it again, feel it for yourself.


There seems to be a dependency or cooperation in Trusting someone, that is not necessarily present in Believing. Or Believing is more momentary, more superficial.
Years ago, a colleague said if I needed to talk, I could call him any time, even in the middle of the night. I believed he meant it. At the moment he said it.  But I never made use of the offer. Because he might have forgotten his promise or might feel bad himself, which would render him unable to stick to his promise.
I didn't Believe In him. His strength, his perseverance, his constancy.
No...we're not covering Trust with this example. Yet... I think now that Believing In comes closer to Trust than plain Believing.


Maybe the difference is in the cooperation? Another experiment, to test it.
   1. Newly wed wife says to her husband, who is on his way to a job interview: "..."
   2. Newly wed wife says to her husband, who is about to hunt for a house for the two of them: "..."

What to enter on the dots?
   A. Go ahead, I trust you.
   B. Go ahead, I believe in you

I believe Trust is applicable to situation 2. There is a dependency. The wife -voluntarily- depends on her husband for the choice of their new home. Does she place her trust in his capability or in his respect, his love for her? His loyalty?  What if he buys a house she doesn't like, or which turns out to be a cat in the bag?

I think that is mainly a choice. Or a matter of character, personal beliefs.  [I could use the word convictions here, but then the question arises: are we convicted to our convictions or do we choose them?]
The more loving the woman is, the least interested she's in the outcome. There's room for forgiveness. So what, if her partner made a mistake?  As long as his intentions were aimed at the welfare of both of them.
Suppose on the other hand, he bought a house solely based on his own taste. In complete disregard of his wife's interests and taste? Now that would be disloyal. His wife's trust has been betrayed.

So maybe it is this simple:

I believe you  =  I know you're honest (right now)

I believe in you  =  I know you're capable

I trust you  =  I know you're loyal

Three virtues, I must say. Of which loyalty is the most important. I believe.

Ready while you are waiting

Inspired by Parker and Larry. 

“Darling, where are you going?” In spite of the opening word, the intonation was snappy. Doreen had laid out her plans during breakfast. This was to be a day full of efficiency. Mike's own plans were squeezed in meticulously, so he could get what he needed and accompany his wife and sister-in-law on their sight seeing and shopping tour. Doreen, by herself, was a guarantee for a busy day. But when her sister from Italy stayed over for her annual visit, the pace would become deadly.

This morning the sisters had come up with a plan that he just couldn't refuse. As if he needed that new laptop today of all days. Hah!

Behind his wife's back he had slipped his favorite, fat, novel into his rucksack. Now he was standing at the backdoor, the keys of his bicycle dangling between his fingers. “Uhm, I saw that my driver's licence needs to be renewed soon. So I was going to have my photo taken. You wouldn't want me to be without a driver's licence, would you?” Check!

Doreen looked doubtful, doing some mental arithmetic. Then she gave in. “Good. My sister is getting dressed and doing her nails for our outing. So if you hurry, you can be back before she's finished.” Had he heard right? Was she tipping over her king?

The woman sighed dramatically. “I was hoping that you'd go to the groceries, the drugstore and pick up a parcel from the post office.” Now she tilted her head and looked helpless.

“Sorry Doreen.” Too late, she was not turning her resignation into a drawn game. “I don't have time. I'm going on my bike.” He opened the back door and walked out as quick as he could.

– “Your bike? Michael, are you crazy? The car will be ...”

– No honey, not now.” With that he unlocked his bicycle and went off.

The october air was quite chilly, but a hat and an upturned collar could do wonders.

He was going to have his picture taken. At this hour he would probably be the only customer so it wouldn't take too long. On his way back … he would treat himself to a nice cup of strong coffee in the early bird's café 'The Sleepy Rooster'. There he would read his favorite scene. He had read the book in his backpack three times already. Each and every turn, his lovely wife had managed to botch up the reading of the epic scene. Mike was determined to read it undisturbed today.

On his way to the photo shop, Mike kept on mulling over his wife habits. Whenever he came up with a plan, she took action, accomplishing the task in less than no time. Everyone around him admired it and informed him how lucky he was to have such a wife. Because he... he was so indecisive, so phlegmatic She must be a great support ot him.

What about letting plans ripen? What about looking at designs from different angles, in different moods? And why not wait a while to see if something new wells up? How often had he perceived a great idea while waiting. For instance that time in the supermarket. He allowed two customers to take place in the line right in front of him, so he had more time to think out a design. If they'd been carrying only one item, Doreen might have accepted it. She was sharp about correct social behavior. But one customer had been hoarding up as if he was going to camp out in the desert, the other obviously was preparing for a tremendous barbecue with beer to flow. Sotto voce Doreen had given him a piece of her mind. So cutting that his pensive mood was over and he actually regretted his gesture.

Mike turned down his collar with one hand. The biking made his blood flow well. He felt like a soldier. On a mission to practise and defend the Art of Waiting.

Three more blocks and he'd be at the photoshop. On the next block was The Sleepy Rooster. As Mike got near to it he casted an anticipating glance at it's façade. “What?!” He squeezed his handbreaks. There was a 'closed' sign on the door. And a note below. “Due to a lack of customers the rooster will be asleep for ever.” This was a blow. Such a charming place, his hide out, gone. Where could he go now to read, undisturbed by wives and in-laws ? He resumed his journey entertaining unlawful thoughts. When our man reached the photographer's store, he was full of rage inside, ready to start an argument with whoever would thwart him first.

“Goodmorning. What can I do for you, sir?” The owner, a hard working man from India, beamed at him. While Mike formulated his request his eye fell on a banner on the wall behind the counter. 'Ready while you are waiting.' Well well, so this was the place to be. That should have been simple irony, but it became a challenge.

After the picture was taken, Mike stayed seated where he was. The photographer threw him a doubtful glance, raising his eyebrows. Then he shrugged and walked away. He had to develope the photo, print it and dry it with a hairdryer in the shortest period possible. No time to waste, if he was to stay in this line of business. Mike took his book out of his backpack and opened it. What a nice quiet little shop this was. The right place for his quest. With a sigh of content he started to read. The photographer had not yet closed the door to his work area. He heard the sigh saw the thick novel. It made him call out to reassure his customer, “Dear sir, it really won't take long. I'll have your photo's ready in no time.”

“Don't worry, man. I'm in no hurry.” was the reply. Now Mike had to read his line again.

The alarm of the door chimed, announcing a second customer. “I'll be right with you,” the owner called, poking his head through the door opening.

“Why don't you help this man first?” Mike suggested.

Why not, the owner went over to the counter and asked his opening question. Delighted Mike started on his favorite scene. The other customer had only one question. After getting the information he was after he left the store. The owner picked up Mike's photo's again and dryed them with the blower. “Your photos are ready sir.”

“Just put them on the counter. This won't take long.”

Annoyed, but also a little troubled, the photographer walked over to Mike. “Please sir. Don't tell me you plan to finish your book here?”

“Oh no”, Michael smiled, “just my favourite scene. Then I'll be off.” If Mike expected some understanding, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

“No sir.” The shop owner pulled the book from his customer hand and shut it with a snap. Then he handed it back to our dismayed looking friend. “This is not a waiting room.”

“Aha!” Mike shot up from his seat, pulled the owner to his counter. “Then what, pray tell, does thát say?” He pointed at the banner.

The owner read it out loud.

“Precisely. While you are waiting.”

Now the owner felt cornered. “We used to send our customers out to shop. They picked up their photos later. Now it's developed so fast, they can wait in my store.” Mike argued that that was exactly what he had been doing. What was wrong about reading a book while waiting? Secretly the dark man vowed he'd remove the banner as soon as this strange client had left. “Your behavior is simply odd, sir. Nobody likes waiting. And you … you … you are waiting even while your photos are ready.”

“I'm glad you agree with me.” Mike took advantage of the verbal confusion and opened his book again. Just then the doorbel chimed once more. In sailed a pram with a wailing baby, pushed by a seemingly stone deaf mother. Four other children age three and up, trailed in after her.

Mike's eyes grew large. In a second the shop had turned from a silent oasis to a colony of bickering gulls. He put his novel in his backpack in an instance and drew out his wallet in exchange. “How much?”

The owner didn't waste a moment and named the price. For the first time in his life he was glad to see mrs. Moreno and her band of fallen angels enter his shop.

Outside Mike searched his pockets for the keys of his bicycle. If he hurried home, he thought, he might read a bit in the shed. Or he could lock himself in the bathroom. Nah, who was he kid... his eyes fell on his tyres. Some mindless joker had stolen the valves and the tyres were flat. Mike finally resigned himself to not reading his beloved scene today. He started out for the nearest busstop, wondering if this day could get any worse. “If there is a God” he thought, “then he is obviously on holiday today. Maybe hiding from His in-laws.” He looked up at the electronic sign. His bus was delayed 20 minutes at least. Mike turned up his collar against the cold. And with a thankful smile he reached for his book.

JoAnne Lakefield

Oct. 2011

THE MEETING

Read by  Parker Stevenson
link to his work as photographer

Voice: Parker Stevenson
link to bio 

He was everything she had dreamed of. His physical appearance, his character, his quick mind, his style, his everything.  She was sure she didn't deserve him.
Whenever he suggested something she might do differently, it felt like ... no, he did that because he wanted what was best for her. And she'd better pay heed to it, because he was right and she was far from perfect.
Whenever he suggested something she might do differently, it felt like criticism. Like the beginning of the end of their relationship. And she complied to what he said, because she didn't want to lose him. She was addicted to him.

Yes, she was far from perfect. She was good, great, smart, sweet, with a good sense of humor and very caring. But this d..... insecurity of hers. It spoiled things. When they'd just met, she was independent and rebellious.  But now? Whatever he said, she agreed with him. There was no more tension between them, she stopped being his sounding board. As if he was back on his own again.
Now, take that time when she was visiting him in his apartment for the first time.  He showed her around and they reached his favorite room, his gym. Full of devices that helped him, not only to stay in shape, but to keep his mind clear. He went to his gym mostly because workouts helped him sort out his emotions and think more clearly. 
She was not involved in any sports, he knew that. So he impulsively suggested that she might use his gym, a little bit of exercise would be good for her. She stepped back, looking as if she had just opened a two months old lunchbox, with the tuna sandwich still in it.  By and by he found out that she didn't like workouts at all, it just didn't give her a good feeling. She had other methods to stay tuned.


Yet, after she had moved in with him -was it a wise decision?-  he found her in his gym. She did use it regularly, he knew that. She left traces:  towels, the exercise bike suddenly had changed settings, sore muscles ...
And now he caught her in the act. Exercising while griping, an interesting combination. "Why ?" he asked her. "Why do you do this?"
She got up from the rower and looked at him apologetically.  "I don't know. Really I don't. Maybe because you were right, I could use some exercise. And maybe, because, I don't know. It sounds so stupid. " She looked away from him. Started a brainstorm on the subject. "It's like I have to do everything you say or else... else I might risk our relationship? And I'm so nuts about you, I can't have you leave me. Or maybe it's just that compared to you I feel so unworthy and drab. I can't be myself anymore, ever since we started dating."
Someone telling you she's in love with you and it doesn't even feel good. He came over to her, trying to catch her eye. "Honey,..."
"No, don't honey me, please. I mean it. I'm afraid that when you suggest me to jump out of the window at the tenth floor, I'll do that too."  And with that, she ran out of the gym. His gym.

It's three days later now and he's coming home straight from his office. "Get ready" he tells her, "we're going to eat out tonight."
A look of wonder is her answer.

"Nothing fancy. Somewhere small and cosy. Just the two of us."

She returns the ingredients she was cutting for dinner, to the refrigerator. "What should I wear?"
What a question! "Nothing. I mean nothing special."
- "Just a clean shirt, OK?"
- "Yes but hurry. I have to go back to the office first. I have to attend a short meeting."
She casts him a questioning frown as she walks past him, leaving the kitchen. "Couldn't you pick me up after the meeting?"
- "Nope. I made reservations and there's not much time between." He steals a kiss and then lets her go to change.
- "Where are we going to?"
- "An Italian restaurant. That's your favorite, right?" Silence "So you can admire my Italian pronunciation." he continues, while thinking how he'd wish she'd poke fun of it instead.
- "I didn't know my man could speak Italian."
- "That's just one of my secrets. But please hurry, people are waiting."


A good thing she's not the kind of woman who loiters in front of a six-door wardrobe, sighing that she has nothing to wear. In no time they reach the firm's building. It's quiet now, they have the elevator all to themselves. While he pushes the button, she notices that they are not going to the storey where his office is. She says nothing however. Obviously the meeting won't be in his office.
The elevator doors slide open and they get out onto a deserted floor.

"Follow me" he says and they walk to a room at the end of the corridor.  The door is shut, but he has the key. "This is my new office. I moved to this floor today," he explains. Inside he turns on the light. She's starting to feel a little cheated. There's no one here, except them.
"You know what floor we are on, right?"
She looks at him. "Tenth?"
- "Correct." He walks over to a window, opens it with another key. He gestures for her to step out of it. "Well?" he adds to it.  Is he crazy, this is the tenth floor? Her look is more than just puzzled.
"Don't you remember when I caught you in the gym? You said you might jump out of the window on the tenth floor if I asked you to."  Yes, she remembers, the flash in her eyes betrays it. "So what is your answer now? "
- "Dopo di lei.  After you." She says it with a beautiful indignation.
- "Crazy goose, you answered well. Of course you don't just do anything I ask you to." He walks up to her and grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her a bit.  "And don't you dare, I need someone who is critical, to keep me alert." He feels in his pocket for the ring. It's there. "Let's go to the restaurant now."
- "What about your meeting? Was it a hoax?"
- "There was a meeting and you were there. You met your old self. Don't let go of her again."

© november 2011

JoAnne Lakefield