The Energy of Trust What if you stopped bracing for life—and trusted it instead?
- Laura Hoffman

- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
Lately, one word keeps coming up for me: trust.
Trust in myself. Trust in others. Trust that I am on the right path. Trust the new directions that are beginning to unfold. Trust that I don’t need to know exactly how everything is going to work out before I take the next step.
And perhaps most of all, trust enough to stop trying to control everything along the way.
I’ve also been noticing something in my body. My neck. My shoulders. The places where I have carried tension for years without even realizing how much I was holding.
Relax your shoulders. Soften your neck. Take a breath.
I find myself coming back to these simple reminders again and again.
And recently, I had a thought:
What if I’ve spent years physically bracing against life?
What if some of that tension has come from believing, consciously or unconsciously, that I need to hold everything together? That I need to anticipate what might happen next, figure it out, make the right decision, protect myself, or somehow stay one step ahead?
And what would happen if I simply learned to trust?
Trust Is Different From Knowing
We often say we trust when things are going according to plan.
It’s easy to trust when we can see the outcome. When the relationship feels secure. When the next opportunity is already waiting. When the decision is obvious. When we know exactly where we’re going.
But that isn’t really trust.
Trust begins where certainty ends.
Trust is being able to stand in the space between what was and what will be without immediately trying to fill in the blanks.
It’s knowing that you can be on the right path even when you can’t see very far ahead.
Sometimes our lives begin moving in a new direction before our minds have caught up with where our souls are leading us.
Our work evolves. Relationships change. Friendships shift. Something that once felt right no longer does. A new idea keeps calling us. We feel pulled toward something we can’t completely explain.
Our instinct can be to immediately ask:
Where is this going?
How is this going to work?
What if I make the wrong decision?
What am I supposed to do next?
But maybe we don’t always need the answer.
Maybe we need trust.
The Balance Beam
I keep thinking about trust as though we’re walking across a balance beam.
We want both feet firmly planted. We want stability. We want to know exactly where we’re stepping before we move.
But you can’t walk across a balance beam that way.
At some point, you have to lift one foot.
For a moment, you are balancing on one leg. The other foot hasn’t landed yet. You’re somewhere between where you were and where you’re going.
That is trust.
It isn’t having solid ground beneath both feet at all times.
It’s believing enough in yourself to lift your foot anyway.
And perhaps that’s where so many of us struggle. We’ve become accustomed to relying on ourselves, protecting ourselves, anticipating what might happen and trying to control the outcome.
Sometimes we think, I’ll trust when I know.
But life often asks the opposite of us:
Trust first. Then take the step.
You Were Never Meant to Hold Everything
There is another layer of trust that I’ve been exploring: allowing myself to trust other people.
Many of us have learned somewhere along the way that it’s safer to do things ourselves.
We become independent. Capable. Strong.
Those are wonderful qualities.
But sometimes strength quietly becomes, I have to do everything myself.
And that’s a very different energy.
When we believe we have to hold everything, our bodies often begin holding everything too.
The shoulders rise.
The neck tightens.
The jaw clenches.
The breath becomes shallow.
We brace.
Trust asks us to soften.
Not to become passive. Not to give away our power. Not to ignore our intuition or discernment.
But to recognize that being supported does not make us less powerful.
We can trust ourselves and allow others to support us.
We can make thoughtful decisions without controlling every outcome.
We can listen to our intuition without demanding proof of where it’s taking us.
We can be strong without being braced.
Trusting the Present Moment
Most of our need for control lives somewhere other than the present moment.
We’re replaying something that happened before or projecting ourselves into something that hasn’t happened yet.
What if this happens?
What if that doesn’t work?
What will I do six months from now?
And suddenly we’re trying to solve a future that doesn’t even exist yet.
Trust brings us back to now.
Right here.
This breath.
This decision.
This step.
You don’t need to walk the entire balance beam today.
You only need to take the next step.
And when your mind starts racing ahead, come back into your body.
Drop your shoulders.
Relax your neck.
Unclench your jaw.
Take a slow breath.
And remind yourself:
I am here. I trust myself. I trust my path. I trust what is unfolding.
Trust Doesn’t Mean Everything Goes Your Way
Trust isn’t believing that everything will unfold exactly the way we want it to.
People may disappoint us.
Plans may change.
Something we thought was meant for us may fall away.
A direction we were certain about may suddenly shift.
Trust is knowing that even when life doesn’t follow our plan, we can still meet what comes next.
Perhaps something isn’t happening to you.
Perhaps something is happening for you.
A redirection.
A lesson.
An opening.
A deeper understanding of yourself.
An invitation to release something you’ve outgrown.
We don’t always recognize it while we’re standing in the middle of it.
Sometimes understanding comes later.
Trust allows us to remain open long enough to find out.
The Weekly Practice: The Trust Reset
This week, begin noticing the moments when you physically brace.
Maybe your shoulders creep toward your ears when you’re thinking about a decision.
Maybe your neck tightens when you don’t know what’s going to happen.
Maybe you hold your breath while waiting for someone else’s response.
Maybe your mind starts racing because you want to figure everything out right now.
When you notice it, stop.
Take one slow breath.
Let your shoulders drop.
Soften your neck.
Relax your jaw.
Feel your feet beneath you.
Then say quietly:
I trust myself.
I trust my path.
I trust what is unfolding.
And ask yourself:
If I truly trusted in this moment, what would I do differently?
Maybe the answer will be to take action.
Maybe it will be to have a conversation.
Maybe it will be to say no.
Maybe it will be to say yes.
And sometimes, the answer will simply be:
Nothing.
Wait.
Breathe.
Allow.
Trust.
There is tremendous freedom in realizing that we don’t have to control every step of the journey.
Maybe the invitation isn’t to figure everything out.
Maybe it’s to loosen our grip, soften our bodies, stay present and take the next step when it appears.
One foot on the balance beam.
One breath.
One moment.
One step at a time.
Trust yourself enough to keep walking.
Much love
Laura




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