Monday, January 07, 2013
A MATTER OF TRUST
It's a habit that has no place in my line of work. "If your mother says she loves you, check it out," I was taught by some great journalists. The cynical rondavis repeats it to people he's mentoring. But Ron — he trusts with a completeness that's simply stupid.
Because when you trust someone the way I do, you're just asking for trouble. You are, in the parlance of a long-ago time, cruising for a bruising (did anyone really say that in the '50s?).
You're opening up your heart for misery and not-so-secret ridicule. Once you trust so completely, you're giving power to the other person that they should not have.
But I can't help myself.
Whether it's colleagues at the Paragraph Factory, or people in my allegedly personal life, I believe them, even when it's pretty clear that bullshit is being flung with great effort and energy.
"I believe everything you tell me," I said to someone today, knowing I probably should not. But I was telling the truth. I believe every word that crosses that person's lips.
Eyes wide open, heart wide open. Why do I do this?
Because believing brings me hope, and hope is what keeps me alive.