The Making of Trust
Eva McCloskey on the cadence of care and the unseen rhythms that shape community.
What if trust isn’t something you earn once — but something you build little by little, in the moments most people overlook?
Maybe you’ve spent years showing up for everyone else.
Following through.
Carrying the load.
Becoming the steady one because someone had to be.
Maybe you know what it feels like to move through the world with a pace that other people rely on — even when you’re still figuring out what that rhythm means for you.
Eva McCloskey knows that pace well.
She’s built communities, teams, and entire ecosystems from the inside out — not through charisma or speed, but through a cadence rooted in care, consistency, and presence.
Her work has been shaped by rhythm for years: on the rink, in boardrooms, on morning runs before the city wakes.
Each chapter teaching her a new way to hold people and a new way to hold herself.
If you’ve ever wondered how trust actually gets made — in real life, in real relationships, in the quiet parts of the day — press play 🎧👇
What part of Eva’s story is still echoing for you?
Hit reply and tell me.
Or forward this to someone who leads with intention and builds their world through steady, lived care.
See you in the next Field Note Friday,
— Lindsey
P.S. Eva’s story is part of The Field Year — a year-long archive of portraits, stories, and gatherings that bring the unseen into view. If you want to help fuel the project, you can support it through the GoFundMe.
Gah...Lindsey...you are the best storyteller. Thank you for sharing others' stories so that we can see ourselves in them. Thank you for framing the mundane and ordinary into something extraordinary; all things born, no doubt, from your inherent curiosity. You are a gift.
This highlights trust as something lived in repetition rather than declared in moments of intensity. The emphasis on pace, rhythm, and consistency feels especially honest — the kind of leadership that doesn’t announce itself but becomes dependable over time. There’s something grounding in the idea that trust is shaped in the quiet intervals, through presence that doesn’t rush or perform, but keeps returning.