In the quiet of oblivion: Trusting what doesn't yet makes sense

There are moments in every career when the balance quietly shifts. You’re doing well, receiving praise, handling responsibilities with ease — until someone more experienced steps in and the work that once defined you gradually moves elsewhere. It’s a strange feeling, not necessarily painful, but revealing. It highlights how easily confidence can turn into a comfortable illusion, especially when admiration is coming from every direction.

A line captures this truth bluntly:

“If you are happy when people praise you, be ready to be upset when they don’t.”

It raises a difficult question: How much of our happiness is tied to validation? And why do we allow ourselves to be carried by it?

Interestingly, life rarely behaves in a predictable, “logical” manner. The book Alchemy opens with the striking example of Red Bull — an overpriced, odd-tasting drink that still rose to compete with something as universally appealing as Coca-Cola. It defies common sense. But then again, life often does. Many well-reasoned choices fail. Many irrational decisions flourish.

Life moves in irregular patterns. It rewards the illogical, resists the obvious, elevates the unexpected, and dismantles what seemed certain. And perhaps this very inconsistency isn’t chaos — but communication. Perhaps praise and rejection are not reflections of our worth, but quiet instructions, shifts in the wind that nudge us toward the paths we are meant to follow.

Even the Qur’an reminds us that what feels unfavorable may hold goodness in disguise:

“…It may be that you dislike something while it is good for you…” (2:216)

A rejected interview, a misunderstood attitude, discomfort in one place — perhaps these aren’t signs of inadequacy, but quiet suggestions that one’s personality and potential belong elsewhere. What one interviewer dismisses may be exactly what another appreciates. And if one receives too much praise in one place, the comfort might anchor them forever — even when they’re not meant to stay.

There’s a saying:

“The universe will never give you peace in something you were never meant to settle in.”

While we can channel ourselves through his phase of uncertainty reminding ourselves that it was not good for us, but these rejections, lack of praise & confusion brings its own shadows. Doubt. Hesitation. A quiet onset of imposter syndrome — the fear that I'm not worthy and everything I possess now can be taken away from me any moment. In those moments, a balanced heart becomes essential. A heart indifferent to praise and rejection. Not overly elated by praise, not crushed by criticism. The Qur’an gently guides this mindset:

"No calamity befalls the earth or your own selves, but it is (pre-destined) in a Book before We bring it into being, -Indeed it is easy for Allah - so that you may neither grieve on what has escaped you, nor over-exult on what He has given to you. And Allah does not love any self-admirer, over-proud,” (57:22-23)

Recognizing that one’s abilities are not purely self-made, but blessings that Allah has given us, reframes everything. And Allah has the right and authority to expand or be take away whenever he wants. This humility is something no book can fully teach — it grows only through lived experience.

And perhaps it is this humility that prepares us for uncertainty. Maybe clarity isn't meant for this moment. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Sometimes a person simply has to wander in a bit of oblivion for things to start aligning. Maybe this phase is about making room for randomness and trusting that it has its own purpose.

All one can really do right now is hold onto good assumptions about the One who shapes the journey.

The Prophet ﷺ said in a Hadith Qudsi:

Abu Huraira:

The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Allah says: 'I am just as My slave thinks I am, (i.e. I am able to do for him what he thinks I can do for him)...

(Sahih Bukhari 7405)

Meaning: if one believes that Allah will take this life forward towards good, if not great, then that very expectation becomes its own compass.

So perhaps the path ahead doesn’t require certainty — just trust. Trust that what was taken away had served its time. Trust that what remains is intentional. Trust that the scattering pieces are quietly arranging themselves into a clearer picture. And trust that, with time, even this perplexing chapter will make sense in ways one cannot yet imagine.

So if you must wander in oblivion for a while, then let it be with a heart steady enough to know that Allah never leaves a seeker lost.