Rejection as Redirection

Reframing things

I’ve been rejected a lot this past week.

First, I received a letter from an editor of a renowned publication. I had submitted an essay on my experience with non-monogamous love. (I’ll share more on the subject of ethical non-monogamy next week.)

I felt it was the best piece of writing I’ve created thus far. I even had an editor help me finetune the details and give it an extra gut check. I was proud (and for a recovering perfectionist, that’s a big deal). The rejection email came on Friday afternoon, three months after submitting the piece.

The letter read:

Thank you for sending your writing to [Publication]. Although I don't find your essay right for our needs, I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to consider it. I regret that the volume of submissions we receive makes it impractical for me to offer editorial feedback.

One of my favorite writers, Elizabeth Gilbert, emphasizes the importance of not letting rejection define our sense of worth or creativity, encouraging us to persist in our pursuits, even in the face of setbacks. In truth, rejection isn’t personal. Still, we make it personal.

Then came a few more rejections. Dating rejections. Potential new roommate rejections. I even felt rejected by my dad pushing off his trip to visit me (though his visit eventually happened).

Whether it’s creative or day-to-day, rejection is a natural part of life. We can’t stop rejections from happening, but we can reframe the detours life gives us. What seems like an initial setback can be a redirection toward greater opportunities or more fulfilling experiences. If we’ve tuned into the deeper aspect of ourselves, we can also see rejection guiding us toward experiences that contribute to our spiritual development, fostering more authenticity and alignment.

Despite knowing that rejection is redirection to something different, oftentimes better, I can’t help but feel down about it. My mind goes into Question Mode, versus Trust Mode. Question Mode assumes that there’s something else that I could have done, something I could have thought of to make the thing I wanted, work.

Trust Mode is believing that everything is as it should be. There are universal forces at play that have nothing to do with us. Trusting that things will unfold in their natural order and in the right time is what helps me feel grounded in the redirections. (PS— Trust Mode is a constant practice and doesn’t happen overnight.)

It’s important to learn from rejection and give it space to bring in new opportunities and experiences. If we can look beyond immediate disappointments, we can recognize the potential for growth and expansion. It also allows us to cultivate inner strength and surrender to a greater flow.

Writing down all the ways my past rejections have turned into beautiful gifts is another way that I work to keep myself in Trust Mode. If I look back on my life, each rejection has led me down paths that turned out to be far greater than what I could have imagined. Heartbreak that ultimately protected me, job rejections that led to a new city, projects that fell through and made space for new connections and career possibilities.   

Some years ago, a guy I was dating broke things off with me. During the breakup talk, he shared the story of the Chinese Farmer. It goes something like this:

A long time ago, a Chinese farmer lost a horse, and all the neighbors came to his home and said, “Well that’s too bad.”

The farmer answered, “Maybe.”

Soon after, the horse came back, and brought another horse with him, and all the neighbors came around and said, “Well that’s good fortune!”

The farmer replied, “Maybe.”

The next day, the farmer’s son was trying to tame the new horse and fell, breaking his leg, and all the neighbors came around and said, “Well that’s too bad.”

The farmer replied, “Maybe.”

Not too long after, the emperor declared war on a neighboring nation and ordered all able-bodied men to come fight—many died or were badly hurt, but the farmer’s son was unable to fight and spared due to his injury.

All the neighbors came around and said, “Well that’s good fortune,” to which the farmer replied, ‘Maybe.’”

As the story goes, we never know what the rejection means– it might ultimately serve our highest good. A redirection can prompt us to reassess our goals, values and priorities and guide us towards a more fulfilling path. (Side note— That breakup ended up being the best thing for my personal evolution and the start of my Saturn Return, which I’ll share in a future post.)

Ultimately, every rejection has gotten me to where I am today. Rejections are going to keep happening in this lifetime. The only thing that can change is my way of seeing them.