He came in frustrated.
You could see it in how he set his bag down—like the weight of the world wasn’t just on his shoulders, it was in his bones.
"Man… it's like everywhere I turn, there's drama," he said. "People talking sideways, misunderstandings, ego fights, division... even systems that are supposed to help feel like they’re rigged to break us."
His mentor sat quietly, sipping tea like he’d heard this tune before. Because he had.
“A lot of friction in this world,” the young man added, pacing now. “And I’m tired of feeling like I gotta be the one to fix it.”
That’s when the mentor looked up—not with judgment, not even pity. Just presence.
He spoke calmly.
“We live in a broken world. With broken people. You’re not called to fix everyone. That was never your job.”
The words didn’t sound cold—they sounded freeing. Like a release.
“You don’t choose the world you’re born into. You didn’t write the script of its pain or its politics. But you do choose how you walk through it.”
“You choose your path. Every day. Through your attitude, your actions, your healing. The path is yours. Not theirs.”
The young man stopped pacing.
The mentor leaned in.
“The world will be loud. It’ll throw noise, injustice, distraction, betrayal. But ask yourself one thing—are you getting better… or are you getting worse?”
“Because if you’re not growing, you’re leaking. And that leak? It spills into your peace, your posture, your purpose.”
A pause.
“Adjust until you see positive change. In your habits. Your heart. Your discipline. Start with you—not them. The path begins inside.”
And just like that, the young man stopped looking out—and started looking in.
Refocused Moment:
You don’t control the chaos. You don’t control the noise. But you do control your response. Your path is not handed to you—it’s carved by your choices. So the question isn't “Why is the world like this?” It’s “What kind of person will I be in this world?” When you grow, everything around you starts to shift. Not because the world changed—because you did.
