‘Oh, Granny, your teeth are tremendous in size!’ (1865), Gustave Doré
I’ve been thinking about trust. At a time when so many institutions that are theoretically worthy of our trust are crumbling and/or duplicitous, how can we continue to cultivate trust and the truth and comfort that only trust can provide?
It’s common sense that anxiety and trust are linked experiences. Most of us feel less anxious, or even entirely at ease, when we are in environments or with people we trust. On the other hand, anxiety creeps up and eventually becomes hypervigilance when trust is limited or absent or broken. It’s also been my experience that those of us who struggle with anxiety are, even in the best of times, slower to build trust whether in relationships with other people or even within ourselves. We tend to crave more details, more information, and more certainty than life can offer.1 As large-scale trust is eroding, I’ve become hyper-aware of the trust I find in my own day-to-day, and the comfort that it brings me. That I trust my loved ones, I trust myself. These are not small things.
This week, I had a (very minor) dental procedure. After a bad experience at the dentist as a child, followed by years of anxiety about dentist appointments at which I would ask to be informed of every step of the process and was on edge the entire time, I’ve become very picky about the dentists I see. This time, as I was having my jaw wrenched at, I realized that, despite the expected discomfort and the sound of the drill, I felt… totally calm. My heart rate was normal, my muscles were relaxed, and as I sat there, I thought about all sorts of things besides my dental procedure and when it would end, like work and not liking my jeans and school pickup. At some point during the time I was there, I realized that this mind-wandering was only possible for me because now, I trust my dentist. We build trust when we care for each other well and when we do so consistently.
Books: On the Calculation of Volume (Book I) and Doubt: A History
This week I read On the Calculation of Volume (Book I) by Solvej Balle, translated by Barbara J. Haveland. (I know, I am late to this much-acclaimed book.) Solvej Balle is a Danish author and On the Calculation of Volume was first published in Denmark in 2022. It was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize this year and has been the subject of a great deal of writing and conversation. Briefly, the protagonist, Tara Selter, realizes that she is living and reliving November 18th. For her, time is no longer moving forward: “I was home, I was all right, we were alive; it was only time that had fallen apart.” Only time. Usually, if nothing else, tomorrow is a new day. But for Tara, time itself is not trustworthy. I found this book at once beautiful and unputdownable and deeply unsettling, as in it made me feel a bit ill. To be clear, this is high praise.
I also want to mention one of my all-time favorite books, Doubt: A History by Jennifer Michael Hecht. Hecht is a brilliant historian and poet and Doubt is the sort of book that I return to again and again. Each time, it teaches me something more about trust and about anxiety. It spans much of human history and it is very, very wise.
A set:
Good Things by Samin Nosrat, + City Arts and Lectures + Benedetta’s Ragú
-Samin Nosrat, the brilliant chef, teacher, and writer of what I’m certain is among the best cookbooks of all time, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, has a fantastic new cookbook called Good Things. Nigella Lawson loves it, too, and her review includes a recipe from the book for Pane Criminale. OMG.
-Samin Nosrat and Hrishikesh Hirway did a talk for City Arts and Lectures to celebrate the publication of Good Things, and you can listen to it here. I was especially moved hearing Nosrat describe the origins of her new book’s title.
Nosrat and Hirway also have a podcast of their own, Home Cooking, that I find deeply comforting and joyful.
-I made Samin’s recipe for Benedetta’s Ragú last week and it was delicious and well worth the time, as I knew it would be. I trust Samin.
I write about the relationship between anxiety and trust in my book, The Narrowing: A Journey Through Anxiety and the Body.
Trust is a big word. May you always be surrounded by trustworthy people and may the wolves stay in the forest where they belong. Another wonderful thoughtful post.♥️