Rejection is Protection

Rejection Is Protection

Sometimes clarity arrives through conversation — when words land exactly where they’re needed.

Over the last few days, I’ve had several encounters that reminded me how intentional life can feel when we’re paying attention.

One of them happened during a Lyft ride.

As the conversation unfolded, I found myself speaking about a principle I’ve come to trust deeply — that The Most High will remove us from toxic places, people, and environments, including jobs that no longer align with who we are becoming.
I shared how rejection is often not loss, but protection.

I didn’t expect the words to land the way they did.

The man driving began to cry — quietly at first, then more openly — as he shared that he had recently left a toxic job. Driving Lyft was part of his transition. He told me that hearing those words, in that moment, felt intentional — as if he was meant to hear them right then.

I’ve always known that words carry power.
I just don’t always anticipate where they’ll land.

The very next day brought another encounter.

I was scheduled to install a television and a large mirror for a client in Hampton, Georgia. She wasn’t home, but her son — home from college — was there. They didn’t yet have the wall mount needed, and since I hadn’t driven to the appointment, he offered to take us to Walmart.

During the drive, conversation flowed naturally.

We spoke about intelligent young Black men in the metro Atlanta area, about upbringing, about potential. I shared pieces of my own journey — writing, interviewing celebrities, managing large fixture installations for companies like Walmart, Kroger, Home Depot, Lowe’s, Best Buy, Sherwin-Williams, PetSmart, and Target.

We connected even more when he shared that he would be graduating from Morehouse the following semester.

When the job was finished, he handed me a $150 tip.

What stayed with me wasn’t the money — it was the connection.

Moments like these remind me how deeply I’m aligned with teaching, learning, and expressing ideas through words. Writing comes naturally to me, and I’m increasingly aware that what feels effortless for me is not effortless for everyone else.

When I place my attention on what truly matters, the world opens up.
When I focus on real value — not optics — things align with ease.

When my thoughts, actions, and words move together, clarity follows.

I return to simple practices that ground me:
quiet time, music, movement, breath, reflection, solitude, gratitude.
I schedule my days with intention.
I listen inward and take action.
I forgive myself, release the past, and stay present with today.

I don’t need to see the entire path.
I only need to take the next step.

One moment of clarity can change everything — shifting cloudy judgment into focus, alignment, and direction. I know now that I’m meant to write and to share what comes through writing.

So often, we pull away from our own superpowers.
From what we do with joy.
With ease.
With instinct.

For me, everything I love eventually returns to writing.

And when I honor that, life continues to meet me there