I’ve always been an analytical person. I like to take my time to think things through, to consider multiple angles, and to come up with the best possible plan to move forward. I’m capable of big, bold, ambitious action, but usually only after thorough consideration.
Sometimes, this trait has served me well. In areas where prudence is rewarded, like saving money or keeping a stable job, I’ve done well. I haven’t too many rash decisions that I later came to regret.
Instead, if I had to name them, my regrets are be mostly those of hesitation. I think of those times when I knew what I wanted and didn’t pursue it, when I lingered too long in a situation that wasn’t serving me, or failed to take the big risk that might have changed everything.
Those kinds of regrets are just speculation, glimpses at possible futures. But I’ve certainly spent more time trapped in analysis paralysis than I’d like. So the question I’m seeking to navigate is about trust: trust in myself, in my intuition and in my capability. Where does that trust come from, and how can we cultivate more of it?
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Self trust is: relaxation, confidence, ease, grace, boldness, courage. It is the ability to follow what seems right for you. It is moving towards what seems most beautiful or loving or easeful.
It is a faith in our own subconscious, the belief that we don’t need to know the why of our own choices. We don’t need to hoist our intuition into the glaring light of our conscious mind and interrogate it. Self trust says, “I don’t know why I want this, but I want it.”
If that statement feels scary to you, if that feels like teetering on the edge of a cliff, then you might be experiencing a lack of self-trust. We could even rephrase that as experiencing an overabundance of self-skepticism. The skeptic, by her nature, wants to be convinced before committing to the radical act of believing.
But our subconscious intuition doesn’t seek to convince. It doesn’t work in logical steps. Our skepticism wants receipts, it wants to trace the origins of our desires, premise by premise. Yet our subconscious speaks in images and sensations. The words just aren’t there.
So when we follow our skeptical drive to investigate, we end up constructing a chain of logic out of those vague images and sensations. This act of construction is prone to error, since we need to make links that don’t really exist. We fill in the blanks with our conscious assumptions, which are often driven by fear or insecurity. In doing so, we may very well end up losing touch with the embedded wisdom.
Our conscious mind, in its analytic impulse, makes a facsimile of the original intuitive insight, and then when the facsimile ends up being wrong, we blame our subconscious. We forget that we are always doing an act of translation.
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Our conscious mind wants certainty. It wants to make things happen. It wants to manipulate the world to make it safer and more comfortable. It wants to push forward.
The subconscious, on the other hand, allows itself to be pulled. It tunes into the world around us and gathers a sense of the relationships between things. Then it nudges us towards the relationships that feel most fulfilling. That might mean our relationship with a friend or lover, or our relationship with a creative project or a career direction. The subconscious whispers, “There’s something here.”
But there’s no certainty in that. Relationships are always fluid. By moving closer to something we change it; the observed is influenced by the observer. Our intuition recognizes this, even as our conscious mind rejects it. Our conscious mind wants to keep things at a fixed point, to freeze things where they are. But everything is in process.
Self-trust is about recognizing and embracing that fundamental truth about reality: that there is no certainty. It is breaking free of the illusion of certainty. It pierces the veil. Self-trust says: “There’s something here, and I don’t know what, and I don’t know how it will change, and I don’t know how I will change, but nevertheless…”
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As scary as it sounds to step into that world of uncertainty and change, self trust is actually about relaxation. The desire to keep things fixed and certain has a desperate, clenching energy to it, like trying to hold on to a handful of sand. It’s a rejection of the true nature of reality, and so it will never feel like flow.
When we trust ourselves, we are embracing the nature of the world, and allowing ourselves to move with it. We open up our hand and let the sand flow through our fingers, and see what grains remain in our palm. In doing so, we stop fixating on one particular vision of our lives, and allow other versions to emerge.
I’ve written before about the heart of creativity is relaxation. When we relax, we’re better able to notice the world around us, and draw closer to it, and make space for insight and connection. Self trust is a means of achieving that kind of relaxation.
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But of course, cultivating self-trust isn’t an easy process. There’s a tricky paradox to it: if we seek to force self-trust by banishing self-skepticism, then we’re back to that clenching energy. If we’re trying to force a certain vision happen, we’re back in the realm of the skeptic. So how do we find our way out of this maze?
With another paradox: we trust our own lack of self trust. We trust that sense of self-skepticism. We allow ourselves to be clenched and bracing and pushing. We notice what that process is like for us, how it feels in our mind and body. And we allow it to be.
That doesn’t mean following every impulse, or indulging every whim. It means slowing down and asking, “What is pulling me towards this? What is pushing me towards this?” Feel into the answer, and trust that it comes from a benevolent place. Receive its message, in full.
When we learn to listen like this, self-trust naturally unfolds. Yes, we might have the sudden impulse to quit our job or yell at our partner, those kinds of self-destructive desires that made us wary of self-trust in the past… but if we pay close attention, we might notice that there’s also a voice saying, “Mmm, maybe not.”
Listen to the voice that wants to blow up your life, and listen to the voice that wants everything to stay the same. Trust that both hold wisdom. Trust that both mean you well.
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When we listen to ourselves with this kind of gentle curiosity, the clenching dissolves. We’re able to relax. When we relax, some of our fear fades away. With the fading of the fear, so go the voices of self-doubt.
What we resist, persists. When we view ourselves as untrustworthy, we put ourselves into a state of tension and fear. This state increases the volatility of our desires. The unheard parts of us start lashing out. So we act in ways confusing to ourselves and others, and then view ourselves as even more untrustworthy… and so on.
When we accept that everything in us is benevolent, then our body and mind relaxes. We feel we don’t have to work so hard to keep ourselves safe. We enter into a state of calm and grace, which manifests in our actions. As we watch ourselves act from a place of grounded love, self-trust gets easier and easier.
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These approaches can be seen as two different spirals, emanating from a centre point, expanding outward in opposite directions. One is of increasing fear and tension and clenching and self-skepticism. The other is of increasing calm and love and relaxation and self-trust.
The fear spiral sounds like: “I need to figure this out. I don’t know what to do, and that’s not okay. I’m not okay. I need to be better. I need to know what to do next. If I don’t make the right decision, I’m screwed.”
The relaxation spiral sounds like: “I am figuring this out. I don’t know what to do yet, but I will. I trust that I’ll find the best path for me. I’m willing to wait until it feels right. I’m willing to trust my gut. I got this.”
If we’re halfway up the fear spiral, we can’t expect to leap over to the relaxation spiral. There’s no instant teleportation. But we can start to slow down. We can notice when we’re meeting ourselves with fear and mistrust. We can ask, what is my intuition actually trying to tell me? How can I receive that message? How can I give that part of me recognition and connection, in a way that I can actually feel?
It may always be hard. It may always feel like walking the edge of a cliff. Otherwise, it wouldn’t really be trust. It wouldn’t be faith. Self-trust asks us to look at the world as it really is, in all its glorious uncertainty, and say, okay, I accept. And then, to do the same with ourselves.
With love & appreciation,
Scott