The three birds flew through the cloudy skies of northern California due north on that brisk January morning. The three friends; a Crow, a Pigeon and a Blue Jay, would have made a strange picture had anyone with a camera and telephoto lens had the mind to snap a shot. Much higher in altitude, hundreds of Canadian Geese flew in perfect V formation in exactly the opposite direction.
“Hey,” squawked the crow, “there is another group of Canadians flying the wrong way. Why do you suppose they are so confused?” He tried to point upwards with his right wing, but in doing so banked quickly to the left ramming the pigeon.
As a normal course of life, we are asked to routinely trust a diverse array of situational commands delivered by people we have never met, or machines we never wanted to. Yet we accept these often life changing commands as routine because we trust the source. More precisely, we choose to trust the source.
“In an emergency, the bags will drop from the ceiling above your head. Simply pull on the chord to start the flow of air. The bag may not inflate, but (TRUST ME) air will be flowing.” We are asked in an airplane emergency to trust that lifesaving air is actually in an empty bag. I’ve never heard anyone ask, “I don’t trust you – prove it.
You are driving your car towards a busy intersection, and the green light is shining in your direction. Other cars are approaching in a perpendicular path, but they SHOULD have a red light. You TRUST that the other cars will stop. We TRUST that the light is working properly and the other drivers see the light, know the law, and will obey it. We bet our lives on that scenario every day.
One more from the airlines. “In case of an unplanned water landing, use your seat cushion as a water floatation device.” My seat cushion is barely the size of my seat, and only two inches thick. I believe it will float in the Pacific Ocean, but I am to TRUST that the cushion will float with me holding on to it. Really? Yet here I sit in aisle 4 during a flight back home, TRUSTING that the aircraft, crew, and the Laws of Physics that we will land safely.
The group of thirty people, mostly men, a few women, and one lone boy standing off by himself, shuffled their feet to hold back the morning cold while they gathered at the base of the trail leading up the mountain. From their vantage point, everything in existence appeared to be up, and in reality, they were right. The mountain ahead was not significantly steep, but the trail was narrow and held many twists and turns, so getting lost was a real danger. The air was crisp, and the beauty of the mountain was stunning; striking rock formations of red and beige surrounded by dark green trees of massive proportions, interrupted by an occasional deep blue twisting line. It should have been a painting; maybe it was.