It's a delight to trust somebody so completely.

Jeff Goldblum, with a voice that often dances between wonder and wisdom, once declared: “It’s a delight to trust somebody so completely.” Though spoken in the spirit of modern reflection, his words bear the weight of eternal truth. For what greater gift can one soul give another than the gift of complete trust? And what greater joy can one receive than the peace of resting in that trust, without fear, without doubt, without the gnawing suspicion that corrodes the heart? To trust completely is to taste freedom, for in that moment the walls of defense fall away, and the soul knows companionship unburdened.

The ancients understood this rare treasure. In the writings of Cicero, friendship was said to be “nothing else than perfect agreement in all things, human and divine.” But such agreement could only exist when friends trusted each other wholly. Aristotle, too, taught of the “friendship of virtue,” where loyalty and integrity made suspicion unnecessary. Thus, Goldblum’s words echo an ancient chorus: complete trust is not only useful, but delightful — it is a sweetness of the heart, a joy beyond measure, because it liberates both the giver and the receiver.

History gives us luminous examples. Consider the bond between Meriwether Lewis and William Clark as they ventured into the uncharted wilderness of North America. Their survival depended not on armies or cities, but on their complete trust in each other. In days of hardship, when food was scarce and dangers surrounded them, one could rest in the knowledge that the other would not falter or betray. That trust was not merely strategic; it was the delight of knowing they were never alone, that each could close his eyes at night and sleep in peace, for the other kept watch faithfully.

By contrast, history also warns us of the absence of such trust. Julius Caesar’s downfall was not at the hands of distant enemies, but from those he called “friends.” His words, “Et tu, Brute?” still echo through the centuries as a cry of anguish from one whose trust was shattered. In that betrayal, we see how trust broken becomes torment, while trust fulfilled becomes delight. The sweetness of Goldblum’s reflection is sharpened by this reminder: complete trust is precious because it is so rare.

Children of tomorrow, hear this: the delight of trust is not found in numbers, but in depth. To trust many superficially is fragile, but to trust a few completely is unshakable. Such trust must be earned through time, through steadfast loyalty, through consistency that proves itself in both triumph and trial. When you find it, cherish it, for it will give you strength in weakness, courage in fear, and joy in sorrow. It is a treasure greater than wealth or fame.

The lesson is clear: strive to become a person who can be trusted completely. Do not betray confidences, do not waver in loyalty, do not speak falsehoods that corrode the sacred bond. Live in such a way that another may rest their entire weight upon you and not fear collapse. And when you find one who proves such loyalty to you, honor them, nurture the bond, and count yourself among the blessed. For as Goldblum says, there is no delight so rich as this.

Practical action flows from this wisdom. Choose wisely those to whom you give your complete trust, but once given, give it fully — not with hesitation, not with fear, but with joy. Test your friendships not in moments of ease, but in moments of hardship, and there you will see who is worthy of your heart’s full confidence. In turn, prove yourself by your actions to be the kind of companion who never causes another to second-guess their faith in you.

So let it be remembered: “It’s a delight to trust somebody so completely.” This delight is not shallow, but deep, not fleeting, but eternal. To live without it is to walk in loneliness; to live with it is to walk in strength. Seek it, build it, protect it, and treasure it — for in complete trust lies the sweetest joy of human fellowship, the true delight of the soul.