Remember when you were a kid and you believed that anything
was possible?
One week you were going to grow up and ride a rocket ship to
the moon. Another and this was my dream, that I would own a horse ranch and
hire handsome men to run it.
One of my daughters couldn’t wait to grow up. The trouble
was, she found when grown up that it wasn’t much fun.
How do we get the fun back? How do we pull back those dreams
that sustained us on long winter nights?
I learned this from a horse trainer—let’s call him a horse
gentler, for that is what he preferred. He said after he got a macho-etocomy, he realized that a dance partner doesn’t want
to be pulled to their feet and forced around the dance floor--or slapped, or
pulled by ropes. A horse, he said, will respond to pressure no stronger than
you can put on your eyeball. (Did you
know that a horse’s hide is seven times more sensitive than a human’s?) The
point of this that whatever the rank and file are doing, chances are you ought
to do the opposite. (Stroke a horse, don’t slap it.)
I’m trying. (Yoda said, “Don’t try, do.) Yet we know when we
are standing on the brink of an abyss we quiver a bit, we
become immobilized, our brain becomes oatmeal.
You great readers who have been with me for a while know that I studied to become a Real Estate Agent. I passed those horrible exams, I had my background checked, and all my little fingers finger-printed. I paid my dues.
I backed off, I tested the water. Well now I have signed with a Brokerage, I’m
on the brink, I don’t know what to do next. I know that some of the old ways of operating
do not work as efficiently as they once did. I don’t want to become establishment.
What is the opposite?
P.S.
Daughter and I are The Pink Flamingo Real Estate Team. Now doesn’t
having a For Sale sign in your yard with a pink flamingo on it sound outrageous
enough to garner attention?
“Next time I’m really
going to put my foot down.”
Thank you for following me all you wonderful people.