If we really want to be full and generous in spirit, we have no

The words of Rita Dove—“If we really want to be full and generous in spirit, we have no choice but to trust at some level.”—speak to the deepest longing of the human heart. They remind us that no soul can live in fullness if it is locked behind the fortress of suspicion. To be truly alive, to be generous in spirit, one must dare the risk of opening the heart. Trust is the key, fragile and perilous, yet without it, all riches of the spirit are denied us.

For what is life without trust? It is a barren desert, where every face is an enemy and every word a threat. To withhold trust entirely may feel safe, but it is a safety that starves the soul. The ancients taught that the human being is not meant to walk alone, but to live in fellowship. Yet fellowship demands faith—that others may stand beside us, that not all hearts are deceitful, that goodness can be found beyond ourselves. Without this faith, suspicion corrodes us, leaving us hollow and small.

Dove’s wisdom echoes through history. Consider Abraham Lincoln, who during the Civil War bore the crushing weight of a divided nation. Surrounded by rivals, betrayed by allies, he could easily have withdrawn into suspicion. Yet he practiced the “team of rivals” approach, bringing into his cabinet men who opposed him, even men who despised him. He trusted at some level that cooperation, however fragile, was still possible. Because of this willingness to trust, he held together a nation that could have shattered beyond repair.

At the same time, Dove does not speak of blind trust, but of trust at some level. This is no command to be naive, to pour our confidence into every hand. Rather, it is a call to find the balance: to discern wisely, but to refuse the prison of absolute mistrust. Trust, given cautiously and cultivated carefully, allows relationships to grow, communities to form, and societies to endure. For what is democracy but the trust of citizens in one another? What is love but the trust that another heart may cherish our own?

We must understand that generosity of spirit is impossible without this leap. To forgive requires trust that forgiveness is not wasted. To give requires trust that generosity will not be mocked. To love requires trust that love is stronger than betrayal. The spirit that withholds all trust becomes narrow, bitter, and self-absorbed; but the spirit that dares to trust, even in part, becomes expansive, radiant, and full of grace.

The lesson for us, then, is both simple and demanding: if we desire fullness, we must choose trust. Not recklessly, but faithfully. Not blindly, but courageously. Trust in a friend when they stumble, trust in a family member when they falter, trust in a community when it strains. Even trust in life itself, that though hardship comes, not all is darkness. Without this choice, we shrink into suspicion; with it, we grow into abundance.

Practically, this means beginning with small acts of trust. Share a secret with a friend. Extend forgiveness when wronged. Cooperate with those you might have doubted. And, above all, cultivate trust in yourself, for without self-trust, no other trust is possible. Each step of trust will expand your heart, and as it expands, you will find the fullness and generosity of spirit that Dove promised.

So let her words guide you: “We have no choice but to trust at some level.” This is the cost of living fully, and the path to greatness of heart. Choose suspicion, and you will live in shadows. Choose trust, and you will walk in light, enlarging your spirit and leaving behind a legacy of faith and courage for those who follow after.