How many times a day do we trust strangers with our lives?
We step out into a crowded avenue and trust that all six lanes of oncoming strangers will be sober and alert and physically able to stop their vehicles before slamming into us.
We sit down in a restaurant and trust that the dozen or more strangers that have handled our food have packaged it securely, transported it at the proper temperature, prepared it without cross-contamination, and served it before it spoils.
We lie down in our apartment towers and trust that our neighbors aren't falling asleep with cigarettes in their hands or with pots boiling on their stove, and that they haven't left the front door hanging open and allowed bad guys into the building.
We get on planes and trains and buses and trust that the vehicles have been properly serviced, and that the crew can handle problems and that other traffic in the skies and on the ground will stay out of our way.
Every day we surrender our physical safety into the hands of uncountable strangers, and we don't think twice about it.
But whom do we trust with our hearts? Often, not even the people that know us better than anybody in the world.
There's an imbalance there, don't you think?