pposed to popular opinion, trust must be put to the test, lest it goes stale and staid. We are all somewhat paranoid. The world around us is so complex, so inexplicable, so overwhelming - that we find refuge in the invention of superior forces. Some forces are benign (God) - some arbitrarily conspiratorial in nature. There must be an explanation, we feel, to all these amazing coincidences, to us, to events. This tendency to introduce external powers and ulterior motives permeates human relations, as well. We gradually grow suspicious, inadvertently hunt for clues of infidelity or worse, masochistically relieved, even happy when we find some. The more tested, the stronger our pattern-prone brain will embrace the trust established. Constantly in a precarious balance, our brain needs and devours reinforcements. Such testing should not be explicit - it should be deduced from circumstances. My husband could easily have had a mistress or my partner could easily have stolen our money - and, behold, they haven't. Trust is based on the ability to predict the future. It is not so much the act of betrayal that we react to - as it is the feeling that the very foundations of the world are shaking, that it is no longer safe because it is no longer predictable. These are the throes of death of one theory - and the birth of another, as yet untested. Here is another important lesson: whatever the act of betrayal (with the exception of grave criminal corporeal acts) - it is always limited, confined, negligible. Naturally, we tend to exaggerate the importance of the event. This serves a double purpose: indirectly it aggrandizes us. If we were "worthy" of such an unprecedented, unheard of, major betrayal - we must be worthy, period. The magnitude of the betrayal reflects on us and reestablishes the fragile balance of powers between us and the universe. The second purpose is simply to gain sympathy and empathy - mainly from ourselves, but also from our huma...
