Sunday, October 27, 2013

Trust: what value does it have?


“Trust is important, but it is also dangerous. It is important because it allows us to form relationships with others and to depend on others—for love, for advice, for help with our plumbing, or what have you—especially when we know that no outside force compels them to give us such things. But trust also involves the risk that people we trust will not pull through for us; for, if there were some guarantee that they would pull through, then we would have no need to trust them. Thus, trust is also dangerous. What we risk while trusting is the loss of the things that we entrust to others, including our self-respect, perhaps, which can be shattered by the betrayal of our trust.” (Philip Pettit)

Trust is a central focus in any type of relationship, from trust in institutions and friendship to trust in the self.  And no wonder, trust is a virtue that contributes to the foundation of our identities in connection with our social interactions that puts our vulnerability at play.  The feeling of trust  will be the stepping stone in making decisions that will determine our stand for  openness vs. privacy,  proximity vs. closeness,  control vs. respect,  friendliness vs. affinity, bonding vs. circumscribing, integrating vs. terminating.

In short,  trust will help advance or back away from relationships, to connect deeper or keep it on the surface. Could it be rational to trust other people? How much attention do we put on the trust we convey?

It will probably take years to experience the security that trust brings, and the search is usually through the small details to evidence the virtue. Through that trip, many times we feel disappointed with betrayal; though, it is often our expectations and interests that betray us, not the other. The real cause is the tendency to idealize the other in response to our interests, which manipulate our intuition and rationality and dazzle our capacity of differentiating trust as a real virtue of the other from the hope we put in trust.

In other words, we can easily feel we can trust when we have certain interest, such as romantic, cultural, financial, social; but in reality, the virtue may be non-existent. We can easily show the coherence that displays trust, but in reality, it may be not truly genuine (bias attitudes are usually out of our concern when involve people whom we are not really attracted by). So, in becoming a trustworthy person, do we warrant certain behaviors based on our interests so as to assure the attention or affection of the other, or are our attitudes generated from the mere value we find in trust?

Trust is the security that the other won’t let us down because genuinely cares.

Trust brings quality and growth in human interactions as it is a pillar ingredient in revealing our emotions that will build the bond with the other through affinity. It also healthily solidifies our emotional stability that feeds our maturity in interactions.  Is it an inherited human condition or is it a virtue that we can build?

Like other virtues, trust can be built. It is necessary to commit to being honest with ourselves in regards to the reasons that are leading us to trust or not, and  in regards to the reasons for the quality of trust we provide. Trust also calls for commitment to genuinely care to construct coherence between what we expect and what we do, and to honestly look for coherence between what reality can do for us and what we wish for. These reasons will help us distinguish trust from reliance, interest from care.

Trust is not merely found in heroism; it is mainly revealed through the clarity and honesty of the small every-day attitudes. What things do we do that diminishes the trust that others perceive in us? What value does trust have in our lives?

“Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.”  (Sigmund Freud)

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” (Maya Angelou)

Inés

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Dialogues with Love

Every afternoon around three, Sarah and Ben take their cassette player downstairs to the building lobby to listen Frank Sinatra hits. Ben carries his cane and Sarah drags her feet in a walker. Once at the lobby, Ben helps Sarah sit down and makes sure she is comfortable. Then, he operates the cassette player, joins her in the couch, and they both grab hands. For about two hours, they listen to the music without saying a word while they fixed their looks on an invisible spot somewhere in the room in a trip that seems to be back in time. When the music brings some shared memory, they look at each other and smile.

It is impossible not to get caught in this picture without admiring the situation and wondering about love. How many times do we define love from the bad experiences lived instead of finding a constructive look from what it is possible? Is it because we constantly focus on the results instead putting the look in the process?

We live in a culture that is not trained to deal with processes, in where happiness is a mere product, a glamorous outcome, or an immediate and easy access to empty pleasure; a culture that presents utilitarian choices and incentives dysfunctional search. I remember my grandparents would have the same oak dining table for 20 years, and then the same table would be passed to the children and grandchildren as a gesture of value and continuation of affection. Now, we buy tables every time we move without a blink of an eye. Are we transferring the same skills to our relationships making us devalue effort, risk, pauses, and emotional literacy by putting the focus on simulations of love?

Ben and Sarah do not have the most exciting stories to tell. Their love simply manifests through their purposeful looks, the slow and coordinated walk, the secured strength in the passion of their holding hands, the shared silence they both understand, the complicity as they listen to music, the dearness and calmness of their smiles... the trust that if one falls, the other will be there as support.

Sarah and Ben can be themselves with each other, trustfully sharing their emotions in a world that moves around. It took them many years to construct this profound dialogue of affection, respect, understanding, and emphatic knowledge and care of the needs, desires, meaning, and feelings of each other.

How is our dialogue with love? What is the story we tell about love?

"Harmony is pure love, for love is a concerto." Lope de Vega-

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