Tuesday, 28 May 2013

Despite The Broken Endings



I’m often confused by trust. Obviously, everyone has a different perspective. Some people believe that it needs to be earned.  Others behave as though it is quite simply a fragile gift that once broken can never be rebuilt. And some special individuals only pretend to give their trust to others, often convincing themselves that they are capable of the extent of vulnerability necessary.

I think that all sounds cowardly. And unfortunate.

While I fully understand the need to protect oneself, (and perhaps my viewpoint carries a dash of well developed cynicism) I have begun to feel that trust will always be broken, but the knowledge of that should not keep me from investing in it. As simple as it is to be human, we will let each other down. But in order to engage in connection and take risks with each other, to actual feel some level of transparency and in rare cases, intimacy, being able to willingly trust is fundamental.

And  we test it, over and over and over.

My favourite people in this world are the ones who continue to trust - despite the constant broken endings.

I never want to live looking out of a lens that first portrays the worst in those around me. To me, that sounds like a paranoia which can only serve to eat at you day by day until the effort it takes to really give your trust to someone in even the smallest task becomes impossible.

Without an ounce of naivety, I would rather the consequences of pain and misfortune by trusting too many, than miss out on the possibility of connection and whole-hearted living by trusting too few. I refuse to label myself a fool for having the courage and strength to trust again; the only fools are those who cannot see the missed opportunities by avoiding the pain of having it broken.


“Only those who dare, truly live.” – Ruth P. Freedman

Thursday, 16 May 2013

Beautiful Ambiguity

The following is a short exert from a book I've been working on. The topic of it came up in conversation with a close friend of mine the other day and it made me feel brave enough to post it. I suppose it is just a generalized summary of my thoughts on relationships and human connection. I am well aware many people may not agree. Food for thought, I suppose.

"The inspiration for these stories doesn't come from wanting to share the lessons I've learned about men, or even advice about relationships. I think I'll always be hopeless. Not to be confused with a hopeless romantic; Daddy issues prevail and cynicism develops after enough tough love. But, despite the struggles and hurt I continuously allow myself to walk into, I always deem the experience worthwhile. The connections, the new emotions, the raw energy of fresh infatuation - and in some cases, love - can still be cherished and enjoyed beyond the resulting heartbreak. 

I think that's why I have not failed. (To some, my lack of permanent companionship may in itself be a failure. I think this is a judgement reserved for another's life.) No, I have not failed. I would not say I've succeeded either, but in my view, love and vulnerability is not something you can quantify to pass or fail. It is simply, what it is. To be experienced; to be appreciated; to confuse you; to amaze you; to silence you and to awaken you. It's not meant to affect everyone in the same way. 

A "goal" for love is like saying poetry has a quantifiable science in which it can be dissected and calculated. We can and do try to make our poems, our love, black and white equations, but the intentional meaning only ever belongs to the owner(s). And even then the author can find the meaning ambiguous to themselves: no one can ever define their poem... or their love. Maybe that's why over centuries poems still remain the best possible form to express love. Both ambiguous. Both beautiful."