An Antidote to Fear and Uncertainty
Rebuilding Trust: In Yourself, In Life, and In the World
Anxiety, at its core, thrives in uncertainty. It tells us that we can’t handle what’s coming, that the world is unsafe, that we are somehow unequipped for what life asks of us. It narrows our vision and makes the future feel like a looming threat rather than an unfolding journey. But what if the antidote to anxiety isn’t control or certainty—but trust?
Trust is a radical act. Trust in ourselves. Trust in life’s unfolding. Trust in something greater than our immediate fears.
And yet, for many of us—especially those who experience anxiety, ADHD, or trauma—trust can feel like a foreign language. The world may have shown us, in ways both small and devastating, that it isn’t always safe. We may have learned to anticipate chaos, to be hypervigilant, to grasp at control as a way of keeping ourselves afloat. But what if learning to trust—ourselves, our emotions, and even the larger rhythms of life—could loosen anxiety’s grip?
The Science of Trust and the Nervous System
From a neurobiological perspective, trust isn’t just an abstract idea—it’s a state of the nervous system. As Rick and Forrest Hanson explore in Resilient, our capacity for trust is deeply tied to the brain’s experience of safety. When we have been met with attunement, care, and consistency, our nervous system learns that we are held, that we can relax into life. When we’ve been met with chaos, betrayal, or neglect, our brain becomes wired for hypervigilance. We expect the other shoe to drop. We scan for danger.
The good news? Neuroplasticity tells us that trust can be rebuilt. Through small, repeated experiences of self-connection, emotional attunement, and relational safety, we can reshape our internal landscape.
Mindfulness helps. Somatic practices help. Simply reminding ourselves, I am here. I am breathing. In this moment, I am safe, begins to rewire old patterns.
Joanna Macy and Trust in the Larger Web of Life
Joanna Macy is one of my greatest sources of inspiration and wisdom. In her work The Work That Reconnects, she lays out how our culture breeds disconnection—not just from each other, but from the living world itself. When we are cut off from nature, we forget that we belong to something vast, cyclical, and enduring. Anxiety isolates; trust reminds us that we are part of an ancient and intelligent web of life.
Macy’s invitation, and it’s a beautiful one, is to shift from a mindset of “business-as-usual” to one of deep participation in the world. When we reconnect with nature—when we witness a river’s steady flow, the resilience of trees, the rhythmic return of the seasons—we are reminded that uncertainty is not the enemy. Change is inevitable, and yet life carries on. This, too, is trust. I love her work because it makes room for the grief, the uncertainty, and the importance of deep participation/activism necessary in healing ourselves and the world around us.
Sheryl Paul and Trusting Our Inner World
For highly sensitives and anxious folks - I always recommend the work of Sheryl Paul. In her book, The Wisdom of Anxiety, Paul explores the importance of trusting ourselves. Anxiety often comes with an inner narrative that says, What if I can’t handle this? What if I make the wrong choice? What if I am not enough? Learning to trust ourselves means developing the ability to sit with uncertainty, to listen to our emotions rather than fear them, to recognize that we can meet life as it comes. See if you can expand your vision from “right and wrong" choices and into knowing “I can handle whatever the outcome”.
I love Sheryl’s work because she frames anxiety not as something to be “managed”—but rather as a doorway into deeper self-knowledge and soul’s deepest longings. So, when we meet our fears with curiosity rather than avoidance, we begin to cultivate a trust that is unshakable and that we can actually do something by listening to it. This develops a trust in ourselves that says, No matter what happens, I will be here for myself. I will walk myself through this with kindness.
Cultivating Trust in Daily Life
So how do we begin to cultivate this trust—in ourselves, in life, in something greater than our anxious thoughts?
Return to the body – Ground yourself in the present. Feel your feet on the earth. Notice your breath. Jump up and down and jiggle out any extra energy until you feel different. Let your nervous system register safety, even in small moments.
Get outside – Spend time in nature, not as a distraction but as a teacher. Focus your attention on a tree, the clouds, a plant nearby, an ant, a bird. Notice life’s intelligence, its ability to adapt, its inherent balance.
Practice self-attunement – Validate your emotions rather than dismissing them. Allow it to be there and then ask yourself, What does this feeling need from right now? It could be as simple as “acknowledgment” or “a hug” or “reassurance”. Honor the answer.
Seek connection – Anxiety isolates. Trust grows in relationship. Find spaces where you feel safe to be fully seen—whether in therapy, community, or deep friendships.
Embrace uncertainty – Instead of seeking rigid certainty, practice softening into not knowing. Life is inherently uncertain. Remind yourself: I don’t have to have all the answers. I can meet life as it unfolds.
The Deep Work of Trust
Trust is not passivity. It is not naive optimism. It is a practice, a choice, an ongoing return to something deeper than fear. It is the quiet knowing that, even amidst uncertainty, you are resourced. You are supported. You are part of something larger.
When we cultivate trust—bit by bit, breath by breath—anxiety loosens its grip. We find resilience not in control, but in connection. And from this place, we can move forward—not with certainty, but with courage.
