Rejection = Path Protection

I was passed over for a leadership role I thought I was excited about.

One that would have moved me deeper into the fabric of Vancouver’s bass music scene.

A position that would have given me more visibility, moved me closer to my coveted first show booking, and furthered my goal of music being the biggest part of my life.

They reached out to me about the role.

I was delighted.

Then they went with someone else.

I wasn’t disappointed.

I’d had a few reservations that I set aside in favour of seeing if this would pan out.

The role would have meant more trips to Vancouver: for shows where I wouldn’t be able to lose myself in the dance for 4-5 hours. Instead, I’d have to be on my toes making sure the show is running smoothly and everyone has what they need.

Whenever I imagined receiving the “you’re in” message, I felt like I’d have to ask for a day or two to think before confirming—despite having sunk a couple hours into my application, having an interview, and sharing the opportunity with friends.

A subtle hesitation, but hesitation nonetheless.

Which should have been my first clue that while the role would have been great professionally, there also would have been meaningful loss on a personal level.

My body knew this wasn’t fully aligned from the beginning.

Close, but not quite.

Great opportunities can cross your path, but not necessarily be a great fit.

Sometimes the fit and the opportunity are both perfect, but the timing is off.

I place a lot of open-hearted trust in life’s whimsical twists and timing these days.

Doing so has taken a lot of the sting out of rejections, reshaping my perspective of them into paths that looked appealing from the trailhead, but weren’t mine to walk.

This role had plenty of curb appeal. 

‘Twas an almost match made in heaven.

But ultimately not my path to walk.

And so rejection becomes relief.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander