If you don’t trust others, they won’t trust you
Without trust, we limit ourselves and our potential for growth and happiness
Privit,
I hope your week had moments where life felt a little more spacious than usual.
Last time, we explored what happens when you realize that nothing is missing. How contentment and gratitude quiet the constant sense of “not enough.”
Today, we turn to something that grows from that same inner ground:
Trust — in others, in yourself, and in the unfolding of things.
When I was 12, I picked up a book for the first time that I didn’t fully understand. But somehow fully felt.
20 years later, one simple idea from it still shapes how I live:
Trust.
It was a warm Bavarian summer day. I was sitting on my little windowsill with the window open—letting the birds, the sunlight, and the fresh mountain air wash over me like a soft breeze rinsing the mind.
Back then it didn’t feel like anything special. Just a quiet moment. But looking back now, it was actually a pretty special day.
Then suddenly, I felt this strange pull to look at the bookshelf in the corner of my room.
Almost like someone gently turned my head for me.
There it was:
“Daodejing.”
A black-and-white cover. A still lake. A few trees. A gift from my father.
It called to me.
So I picked it up. Opened it. And felt myself drop into a calm, deep ocean I didn’t have words for yet.
And then I saw it… the line that stayed with me for nearly two decades:
“He who does not trust enough,
will not be trusted.”
It felt as if Laozi himself said it aloud. Slow, grounded, steady.
Such a simple sentence.
But such a lifelong teaching.
I think about it often. Even now.
Trust means leaning into something without guarantees.
Letting go of control just enough to allow connection, collaboration, and growth.
It means being willing to be surprised.
Being willing to be vulnerable.
And yes—sometimes that means things go wrong.
I’ve experienced all the classic chapters:
Betrayal.
Disappointment.
Relationships that cracked under pressure.
But here’s the truth I keep returning to:
Without trust, life becomes smaller.
With trust, life expands.
When I trust others, conversations soften.
Walls lower.
People show their real selves because they feel safe to do so.
When I trust myself, I take steps I wouldn’t have dared otherwise.
My world opens instead of tightens.
Of course, trust doesn’t mean being naïve.
And it doesn’t mean ignoring warning signs.
It means living with an open hand instead of a closed fist.
A closed fist protects. But it also isolates.
An open hand can get hurt. But it can also receive.
Every time I struggle with trust, I come back to that one line from the lake-covered book:
“If I don’t trust, why should I expect trust in return?”
It has never failed to bring me clarity.
Trust is a practice.
A muscle.
A quiet stance toward life.
And in my experience, it’s one of the few stances that consistently gives back more than it takes.
Weekly Reflection
Where in my life am I withholding trust, and what’s one tiny step that would let me open just a little more?
🍵 Thank you for reading!
Thank you for allowing me to share my thoughts with you! I hope this brought you a pause — not just in your day, but in your spirit. If it did, consider sharing it with someone else who feels quietly depleted.
Until next time, trust.
— Zhenya