What can I trust?
I can trust the joy I feel
when I see a cardinal
or a bunny
or a fox
or an iris
or a pair of swans.
I can trust my feeling of delight
when the winter is cold enough to cause the snow to squeak beneath my feet,
or when the air of the summer night and my skin
share the same temperature.
I can trust that I know what oneness feels like.
I can trust my ability to listen when someone shares their truth with me.
I can trust that I am a beautifully flawed human being
and that I am self-aware and self-reflective enough to grow from my mistakes. Maybe I can even trust my hope that I might one day be wise
and that my care for others might reveal to me how to care for myself.
I can trust that resting my mind and resting my body will contribute to healing. Resting is not stepping out.
I can trust that resting is radically counter-cultural.
I can trust my breath.
I can trust that my soul knows the shape of justice,
that the womb in my heart is not barren
and that I can be a part of creating a new way of being,
when I am invited.
I can trust my creative potential.
I can trust my longing
and its ability to reveal my humanity.
I can trust my knowing that we all deserve to glimpse
more than just fleeting moments,
but sustained experiences of wholeness.
I can trust silence
and my ability to not be silent.
I am working on trusting that my way of being in the world
will not silence others.
I can trust that when a racial bias shows up in my mind
That I have the ability to question it.
I can trust that my transparency is my beauty
and that my vulnerability, not my fragility, may need to be protected at times,
but it will never lead me astray.
I can trust that the trees,
more than anything or anyone,
know what it means to give life.
I can trust the land as my ultimate teacher.
I can trust that the water in me knows how to flow
and find home.
- Robin McGauley
