He who does not trust enough, Will not be trusted.

Hear now the eternal voice of Lao Tzu, master of the Tao, who whispered wisdom that still guides the hearts of seekers: “He who does not trust enough, will not be trusted.” These words are gentle, yet they strike with the weight of mountains, for they reveal the hidden law that governs all relationships, from the smallest bond between two friends to the great harmony of nations. Trust is not only a gift we receive—it is a seed we must first plant. Without the courage to offer it, no harvest of loyalty can ever grow.

To trust is to open the heart, to place faith in another though uncertainty remains. The timid soul who clings only to suspicion builds walls so high that no bridge may cross them. And what happens then? Others, sensing this coldness, withdraw their own faith. Thus mistrust breeds mistrust, and the circle of isolation is complete. But the one who dares to trust, even with trembling hands, summons in others the desire to be worthy of that trust. In giving faith, he calls forth faith in return. This is the deep river of Lao Tzu’s wisdom.

Consider the tale of George Washington at Valley Forge, during the bitter winter of the American Revolution. His soldiers, starving and half-frozen, might easily have abandoned the cause. Yet Washington, though burdened by doubt, placed his trust in them. He walked among their tents, shared their suffering, and showed faith in their endurance. In turn, they gave him their loyalty, not because they were forced, but because his trust demanded their trust in return. The nation that rose from those snows was born not only from battle, but from a leader’s willingness to trust his men.

The ancients of Rome also knew this truth. Julius Caesar, in a moment of peril, once crossed the river Rubicon with but a single legion, trusting that the others would follow him into rebellion against the Senate. His gamble was immense, but his trust in their devotion stirred their loyalty. They followed, and from their faith in one another rose an empire that shaped the world for centuries. Whether we praise or condemn his ambition, the lesson stands clear: trust given can unlock trust returned.

Yet let us not mistake trust for blindness. To trust enough is not to trust foolishly, nor to hand one’s life into unworthy hands. It is to give room for another’s honor to awaken, to believe enough so that belief itself inspires fidelity. Lao Tzu does not counsel naiveté—he counsels courage, the willingness to extend trust even when doubt lurks. For without risk, there can be no reward. Without faith, no bond endures.

So the teaching for your life is this: if you wish to be trusted, then begin by trusting. In your friendships, offer confidence, not suspicion. In your families, speak with openness rather than guardedness. In your work, delegate with faith rather than with fear. By doing so, you invite others into the circle of reliability and respect. And when betrayal comes, as it sometimes will, do not let it harden your heart to stone. Learn, discern, but trust again—for it is better to walk with risk than to live forever alone behind walls of doubt.

Let Lao Tzu’s words echo within you: “He who does not trust enough, will not be trusted.” They are not merely advice for rulers and leaders, but a law of the spirit. Trust is a mirror—what you show, you shall see. If you reveal suspicion, suspicion will meet you. If you extend faith, faith will grow in return. And so the wise live not in fear of betrayal, but in the power of trust, which binds men and women into families, societies, and legacies that endure beyond the span of a single life.

Thus is the way: to live with trust is to walk the path of harmony, to sow the seeds of loyalty, and to reap the harvest of peace. Without it, there is only suspicion and division. With it, the world becomes a place where men and women can stand together, hearts unguarded, building a future greater than themselves. This is the gift of trust, and this is the teaching of Lao Tzu.