Please Adjust the Microphone

Dear Rockstar,

There comes a moment—quiet, comedic, unmistakably holy—when you realize the ancestors have already RSVP’d to your life, and you were the last to check your calendar.

I arrived at that moment recently.
Not with thunder or incense, but with tea.
The kind of tea that suggests you sit down because a truth is about to be served without garnish.

Here’s what the ancestors said, in so many words:
Relax. What’s yours cannot miss you.
Not by accident.
Not by competition.
Not by someone else’s loud opinion or faster timeline.

That’s when I understood: divine timing is not a deadline—it’s a delivery system. And it has never failed to find the correct address.

We spend an astonishing amount of energy worrying that we are late to our own lives. That somehow destiny is a moving train, and we’re running alongside it in impractical shoes. The ancestors, however, are not impressed by urgency. They are impressed by alignment. They work on ancestral Wi-Fi—strong, uninterrupted, and immune to interference.

Being initiated into their power is not a dramatic event. It is clarifying.
You stop performing readiness.
You stop auditioning for rooms that were never acoustically designed for your voice.
You stop explaining your worth to people who confuse volume with authority.

What emerges instead is conviction—quiet, immovable, well-mannered. Conviction doesn’t raise its voice. It adjusts its posture. It knows when to pause. It knows when to speak. And it never rushes its entrance.

There is humor in this initiation, too. A lightness. A private joke between you and the universe that says, You thought you were behind? You were being prepared. Preparation, I’ve learned, often appears to be a delay to people who don’t understand legacy.

And then there is love—the ancestral kind. Not sentimental. Strategic. Love that positions you. Love that frees you from places where you were merely tolerated, instead of being truly received. Love that says, You don’t need to fight for what is already guaranteed.

That is when you begin to walk differently, not hurried. Not hesitant. Just… scheduled. Divinely. Precisely. Unbotheredly.

So if you find yourself in a season where nothing feels rushed but everything feels intentional, congratulations. You are not stuck. You are being initiated. The ancestors are not late. And neither are you.

Adjust the microphone.
Not because you’re about to shout—
But because the room is finally ready to hear you.

With clarity, conviction, and a very well-poured cup of tea,
Sherley Delia
Founder, Healing Majestically Consultancy