Rejection is Protection

Sometimes clarity arrives through conversation, when words land with precision rather than force. In moments like these, understanding does not feel manufactured or dramatic, but timely and exact. Over the last few days, I have had several encounters that reminded me how intentional life can feel when attention is present.

One of those moments occurred during a Lyft ride. As the conversation unfolded, I found myself speaking about a principle I have come to trust deeply, that the Most High often removes us from environments, relationships, and even jobs that no longer align with who we are becoming. I shared that rejection is not always loss, but protection.

I did not expect those words to land the way they did. The man driving began to cry, quietly at first and then more openly, as he shared that he had recently left a toxic job. Driving Lyft was part of his transition, and he explained that hearing those words in that moment felt intentional, as though they were meant for him right then.

I have always known that words carry power, though I do not always anticipate where they will land. Moments like that reveal how language moves beyond intention and into impact. They also remind me that meaning often travels farther than we expect.

The following day brought another encounter that reinforced this awareness. I was scheduled to install a television and a large mirror for a client in Hampton, Georgia, though she was not home at the time. Her son, home from college, was present, and when we realized the wall mount was missing, he offered to drive us to Walmart since I had not driven to the appointment.

During the drive, conversation unfolded naturally and without effort. We spoke about intelligent young Black men in the metro Atlanta area, about upbringing, opportunity, and potential. I shared parts of my own journey, including writing, interviewing public figures, and managing large fixture installations for companies across multiple industries.

The connection deepened when he mentioned that he would be graduating from Morehouse the following semester. When the job was complete, he handed me a generous tip, though the money was not what stayed with me. What lingered was the connection itself.

Encounters like these reaffirm how aligned I am with teaching, learning, and expressing ideas through words. Writing has always come naturally to me, and I am increasingly aware that what feels effortless for me does not feel that way for everyone. That realization carries responsibility as much as it does affirmation.

When my attention rests on what truly matters, alignment follows without strain. Focusing on real value rather than appearances creates space for ease and clarity. When thoughts, actions, and words move together, direction becomes easier to recognize. I return consistently to simple practices that ground me, including quiet time, music, movement, breath, reflection, solitude, and gratitude. I schedule my days with intention, listen inward, and act when guidance becomes clear. I forgive myself, release what no longer serves me, and remain present with what is in front of me.

I no longer need to see the entire path to move forward. Taking the next step has proven to be enough. Often, a single moment of clarity shifts confusion into focus and hesitation into direction. I now understand that I am meant to write and to share what comes through writing. Too often, we distance ourselves from what comes naturally, from what we do with ease, instinct, and joy. For me, everything I love eventually returns to writing, and when I honor that truth, life continues to meet me there.