I am playing with ideas of trusting and planning.
For an experiment in trust, I (an introvert) went to a social event. I moved into an open space, trusting that whoever came into that space would be people with whom I “needed” to interact. Meanwhile, my imagination built a fantasy of new and exciting people moving toward me. Instead, here came the same old folks. I confess I was petty enough to be disappointed. I remind myself that I am not trusting that everything will meet my desires; I am trusting that whatever happens will become a valuable part of my journey.
Then I catch my breath, as I am reminded of the senseless horror that comes to us sometimes. If I were directly affected by the tragedy in Newtown, would I ever be able to trust again? I don’t know.
I know that when I am feeling disappointment or grief or fear or anger, I want to open to it. Then I want to turn toward trust, toward joy, toward compassion. Even if I think I will never feel those things again, I will turn toward them.