Not the Outstretched Hand, Nor the Kindly Smile

The other day I was listening to an interview on NPR. The guest, an author of some sort, was discussing his theories on trust, specifically the ways Americans trust and the political ramifications of that trust. I was half asleep at the time (NPR is Mr. Mystery's morning alarm), so I missed the major points of the conversation, though I didn't miss so much as to prevent me from developing some thoughts on the whole trust issue.

I'm a trusting sort of person. At least I sort of am. When it comes (came) to The Ex, I trust(ed) little to nothing of what he says or does (said or did). (Lessons learned the hard way, let me tell you.) But when it comes to Mr. Mystery, I trust implicitly. Opposite colors on the Male Spectrum, these two guys are, but my level of trust at the beginning of both relationships was the same. The variance came later after experience taught me that some people? They just can't be trusted, while others totally can.

My point being that experience is key when it comes to trust.

This got me to thinking about all of the things I trust. I trust that the pilot flying the jet I am on is well-rested and well-trained. I trust that the person standing on the highway overpass isn't going to throw things at my car, a la The Good Son. I trust that those who hold political offices know more about what is going on in the world than I do, and that they have my best interests at heart. I believe that the pastor of my church knows God better than I do.

Some things you just sort of accept due to the nature of the situation and the "clout" of those involved. Those seen as "experts" are trusted for their expertise. But the truth? The cold, hard, scary-as-shit truth? Some things just shouldn't be trusted. Or less harsh, some things don't deserve the level of trust we put in them. Recent political events have taught me this. Bad behavior from church elders. The recent Metro crash. Photos of train operators and bus drivers texting. A pilot that died of natural causes while flying a transatlantic flight. These things, these scary-ass things, have all come together to teach me a valuable lesson about trust.

I'm starting to fa-reak myself the hell out because I had assumed those shuttling me around were paying attention and in good health. I had assumed that my local train system was equipped with anti-crashing-the-hell-into-other-trains devices. And worse? I have been trusting that those who work in the food service industry were washing their hands after they used the bathroom because it was the right thing to do.

That I am still alive today is a miracle. With E. coli and rollover minutes monkeying around, it's a wonder I haven't been taken out before now.

Part of growing up (and going to therapy) is accepting that the world is a scary place and that some people who share our world are scary people. Growing up (and going to therapy) also meansthat we accept that we ourselves are not perfect, that we make bad decisions and text while driving, that we clog our arteries with French fries and then tempt Fate (and a heart attack) by getting behind the wheel of our car. We ourselves - even if we're "experts" in our field - can stand to learn more. We can stand to pay more attention. We can stand to question ourselves and others. We should not take for granted our personal safety, our intelligence, or the things we believe. Question, question, question. Look and learn, explore and discover. Make decisions of our own. Be open to the thoughts and feelings of others.

I don't know what my point to all of this is exactly. I just know that I'm suddenly nervous about people on overpasses and train operators. I'm also thinking that perhaps NPR is not the best way to wake me up in the morning... too many deep thoughts for a sleepy head.