People Are Too Trusting

"What's wrong with people that they believe all this nonsense they are being fed?" was asked on an interview with a cancelled scientist, and they responded with, "People are too trusting."

I bust out into tears.

That is so, so sad.

Being trusting is a good quality, a necessary quality in human society, and to take advantage of that is ... beyond evil.

To trust that the government will take care of you, that scientists work and speak for the betterment of humanity, that journalists and reporters are honest, that media speaks the truth, that doctors are there to heal you, that the police is there to protect you, our elected politicians represent the will of the people, that our laws are just and justice will be served ...

These and so many other things.

Yes, we should be able to trust in these things. I would love to live in a world where I could trust in all these things.

I don't, however.

At one point, that essential trust was broken, and once it is broken, it can never be regained.

Trust is replaced by many questions.

Who is saying what, and for what purpose?

Who is benefiting from this, really?

What is really going on here?

The world of human doings becomes a very different place when that original trust has been broken.

With it comes the question, "Who or what can I trust?"

I am lucky in that way because I found the answer to this question at a very early age.

I can trust in the Great Creative Order.

I don't understand it, don't get me wrong, but I know it's there.

I can see it in a sunrise, or in the stars at night.

I can hear it in the rushing of the wind through the trees, and the voices of the rain against the window pane.

I can feel it when I step upon the sand, bare foot, and when I lean against an ancient outcrop of granite, or when I hold a smooth river pebble in my hand.

I can scent it in a grove of pine trees, or by the shores of an ocean; sometimes, on a still summer night as I walk through the garden.

I can taste it in a glass of fresh water, in a ripe strawberry, in a kiss.

And I can feel it rising up inside me whenever I tune into the extraordinary dance of life that is continuously exploding within me, all around me, all connected, all is a dance.

A dance of which I am a part, intrisically involved, entirely at home, and which I can trust in absolutely.

It is not just me who is at home here, every human being is at home here too, whether they know this consciously or not.

People will be people.

People are children who play their games within the Great Creative Order, and they have much to learn of its splendour, its beauty, its infinite grace.

Here, once more, I am a child, and I am trusting that even though I might not understand, it's all happening just as it should be. I am safe here, I am protected, and I am loved.

The human children will play their games, and these games can be cruel, indeed.

This is, as it is.

In the meantime, the laws of the Great Creative Order stand firm as they always have.

In the meantime, the grand universal procession dances on.

And if there is such an entity as God, it isn't sad, nor is it angry. It simply smiles and loves its human children as it always did, and always will.