HIGH PRESSURE
When I was seven, I was left on the cliffs of the Northern California coast at an overlook while my family zigged & zagged away from me out of sight.
This was our first family trip to the west coast. In fact, it was my family’s first big trip on an airplane so I remember feeling like it was a pretty big deal.
I also remember a feeling of ‘no one is coming back for me, figure out how to walk to the airport because that’s how I got here so that is how I have to get home’. Seriously, that was the thought running through my tiny head.
Turns out the experience didn’t completely traumatize me because I found myself flying cross country again. This time at the age of 14. Solo.
Mind you this was way back in the time of no cell phones…no tracking…no option to ping with flight updates.
The trip back east was turbulent and took longer than anticipated. By the time we landed in Philly that night, my connection was long gone. But I had no one to discuss next steps with. No ‘guide’ for underage travelers.
To be honest, it’s foggy how this story ends. I must have just stayed in the airport and waited until morning. No one drove to Philly to come rescue me, that much I know. And I figured it out.
Fast forward a few years and I’m living in Australia while I study abroad and travel. I won’t delve into the massive amounts of dumb ideas I put into full force action while I was there but one planted me in a memorable mental and physical pickle.
I was visiting a national park called Kakadu. We hiked, something I only do if there’s a reward involved. And in this case, it was the promise of a cool swimming spot midway through the hike.
A few hikers were off to the side. They were contemplating jumping in through this rock formation. Kind of a long jump but nothing too steep. The thing was, it was a circle, so you had to jump straight down in a pencil dive so not to hit the sides of the formation.
‘How do we get out?’, one of the other hikers asks the guide. Turns out there’s a natural passage several meters down. If you pencil dive down far enough, you open your eyes, and you should be directly in front of the hole. Swim through that and you pop up on the other side.
I step up. Pencil dive in. Go down, open my eyes, I see the hole. Unfortunately, the hole is beneath me and I quickly realize it was not a perfect execution. I try my best to make it but I cannot and I surface.
I’m not super pleased in the moment, as I am well aware that I needed that momentum to get me down as deep as I must go. My options are to hold my breath long enough and to swim down and find the hole which I didn’t even get deep enough from diving into the water from high above or….. or nothing. That was the only option.
Brain says go; body follows. Swam as hard as I could down. Scraped my back on the rock formation as I pulled myself through and emerged on the other side to shocked faces and cheers.
No doubt that these (and many other, yes, often self-inflicted) situations make me a better, land on your feet, agent. Simply put, I’m unafraid of tough situations.
I haven’t shied away from hard things. I’ve put myself in the middle of difficult because difficult isn’t so hard when you’ve already been there, done that. And this translates into my business.
In Connecticut real estate, unforeseen speed bumps arise left and right. The way to take those on is with the mindset that there’s no other option other than forward movement.
My clients feel this throughout the transaction with me. Tough things arise and we will get through them.
“Action-oriented….Smooth….Stress free”
“Quickly and calmly”
“Cool, calm & collected”
“Sense of calm and lots of confidence”
It’s no coincidence that when I read my clients reviews, a theme is found which reinforces that notion.
Cheers to staying unafraid, jumping in, and figuring it out!
