Against rejection

My question today is

what is the average rebound time needed to recover from rejection? 5 minutes? 5 days? 5 years? Why do all rejections feel somewhat like rejection? Why do they always carry the same weight? What constitutes them? Are they liquid? Solid? Gaseous? Why do they always have no color? And how much rejection can a corporeal body withstand before it crumbles into dust? Is that something that can be measured?

Do rejectors have any real sense of whom or what they are rejecting?

Is it possible for a rejector to give the one whom they have rejected just one more chance? Just one? I wonder what would happen to them if they just opened themselves up to that possibility, just a hair. I wonder if they have any sense of how much that would mean to someone who is rejected. It would mean everything.

But I guess these rejectors exist on a higher plane than those rejectors who flatly reject, not giving the rejected any chance at all, from the get-go. I think of these rejectors as less dimensional than the others, less nuanced.

Do rejectors feel that they truly know the essence of whom they are rejecting? And where does this knowledge come from? How have they reached this conclusion? Is it knowledge accumulated over the years? Are they channeling a higher power that I may never have the capacity to comprehend? I mean, if I were like ever… ever in a position of rejecting, it would take YEARS for me to reach the point where I felt that I had discovered a person’s essence… and it would be a miracle if I had made that discovery at all. And even then, I would have my doubts. How does a rejector reach this state of rejecting?

The thought occurs to me that one way to avoid being rejected is to stop trying to be accepted. But then I fear that if I made no efforts to be accepted, I would be rendered invisible, obsolete… and I guess this would probably not feel that much different than rejection.

Maybe it is this trying that negates the possibilities for acceptance. But then it’s hard to concede that trying is futile. And maybe not trying is a protective mechanism. Maybe it is healthy once in a while not to try. Once in a while.

Maybe one day I will have the wherewithal to ask one of my rejectors for his/her thoughts on this. Although, since he/she has already rejected me, he/she probably could not hear me through the door  they have already closed. And my voice can only go so loud.

Instead, I will imagine what it would be like to live in a world without rejection. Something to consider.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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