Not too long ago, I heard fantastic advice. I don’t remember where, but it was that when someone is resistant or bold, it might be because – “they know something you don’t know.”

Experience has taught me that’s true- even in the most extreme examples. Think of every gut feeling you’ve ever had – that random bar you walked into, where you ended up meeting someone wonderful. That college you applied to, by chance, that you got into. That trip you went on that changed your life.

All without reason.

That feeling has given me all the incentive I’ve needed to ditch logic. Rationality has it’s time and place, but when something digs into your gut and refuses to leave – that’s something to listen to. Admittedly, it’s easy to listen to the promises of reward – the feeling to buy that plane ticket, to paint that painting, to stay out to 4 AM.

It’ll be worth it, God whispers.

Those are the kind of things you take the leap for – exciting, passionate things. The city you explore, the terrible job you quit, the handsome guy you kiss.

Those things feel good. They feel worth it, even before you know what they’re worth. The struggle is listening to that feeling, that urge, when it actively contradicts what you want. When you truly want to ignore things like:

This isn’t the place for you. 

You need to take a break from traveling. 

This isn’t the right partner for you. 

So when I’ve gotten a “no” – (as disheartening as it’s been), I’ve tried to think about that initial advice. That whomever had the responsibility to actually turn me down  – that person might have had their own gut feeling. The feeling that I wasn’t meant for “it”, whatever “it” was.

It’s difficult to trust that. I’ve always felt like I’ve had a good grasp over what I want, what I deserve – so being told “no” has really frustrated me. But when I considered that – that whomever was handing out the “no” might have nothing but an inkling for doing so… I felt humbled. I felt a little safer. Like the universe was looking out for me, even when I couldn’t look out for myself.

That it wasn’t because I didn’t have the characteristics or potential. It wasn’t because I didn’t have the right stuff. It was just circumstance, life, opportunity – that it was just how things were meant to be.

And hey – the moment you accept the truth of your life – the truth of what’s meant to be yours, and what isn’t – you’ll never feel more free. You’ll never feel such a rush.

It reminds me of the article Complex published about retired NBA player Larry Sanders. What the once center for the Milwaukee Bucks said about his decision to quit professional basketball.

That at first, the choice wasn’t easy – he compared it to unclogging a waterhole.

“What’s going to come out first? Gunk, worms, crap…” Sanders says. “And then you get flowing water. You get fresh water.”

“That’s how I felt it. I felt an explosion of emotion.”

The emotion Sanders describes – delayed joy, after instantaneous defeat, disappointment – isn’t that so relatable? The lull that follows any difficult decision – a break up you knew you wanted to happen, but couldn’t admit to it. Quitting a job you felt tied to, veering off a course you’ve felt obligated to your whole life – misery followed by pure release.

Gunk, worms, crap. Then fresh, flowing water.

Think of it in reverse, now. Think of the last person that let you down – and instead of thinking of malicious or poor intentions, imagine that person desperately wanting for things to be different. Wishing things could be different. But deeply knowing, that after the sharp jab of turning down another human (regardless of it’s for a job, for a friendship, for a romance), there was fresh, flowing truth and opportunity on the other side.

Can’t we all get behind that?