I trust in softness. I prefer the gentle touch, the mild approach. I weep at the soft , quiet movements of Beethoven. Bombastic movements stir me, but I float in a yielding, more trusting manner with the gentler passages.
I trust the expectant early morning before the sound of birds overcomes the sounds of softly moving leaves. I trust that concentration and insight will flow from gentle settling, not from determined effort.
I trust in the soft settling into a letting go of all I aspire to experience. What I desire rushes into the formless abode I prepare.
Doubt is harsh and holds all at a distance. Trust is welcoming, soft and embracing.