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.
It’s Thanksgiving Day, and during this month our home has undergone the transformation from scary Halloween ghosts and witches, to the earthy displays of leaves glowing in autumn red, pumpkins greeting friends from the front porch, and the smells of morning pastry floating from the kitchen. The sun has only graced us for two hours, but the hustle of cooking for multiple meals, final touches on table decorations, and last minute cleaning is well underway. We love Thanksgiving Day because we get to host the event – which means family will be arriving soon, bringing with them the laughter, love and fun that defines the day.
This German folk tune, later sung by a host of musicians including Peter, Paul, and Mary, asks a very good question in its title; “Where have all the flowers gone?” Throughout the song, the songwriter misplaces a multitude of people and things – I used to sing this song in my eighth grade German class. Listening to the tune brought back a memory of the last time I “lost” my keys. All of us have lost our keys, books, wallet or purse, only to find the missing artifact in some obvious place a few moments, or hours later. We are amazed to think that we could have overlooked during our frantic search a set of keys sitting on the kitchen table. Could the keys have become invisible for two hours, and then just reappeared? Is there a wormhole to a distant universe in my kitchen? Or maybe, when we lose, or temporarily misplace something, it is because we have forgotten where ‘it’ came from and how to find ‘it’ once it has become missing?