Category Archives: Personal Growth

Today I am…

It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.

George S. Patton

I am a big fan of George Patton–a man not without his faults, but one who understood leadership. So it is perhaps fitting that he “rescued” me this Memorial Day Morning.

One of my Memorial Day rituals for some years now has been to write some thoughts and feelings on a day that has been important to me since I was a very young child helping my Dad prepare for and experience the day. This year I felt, frankly, a bit empty because so many of the meaningful traditions and rituals are absent.

But when I checked my email, there among the Nigerian fortunes available and Memorial Day Sales was a post that led with this reminder from the General.

I found myself chuckling a bit while speculating how long it would take in today’s world for the General to be banned from social media platforms. It’s an interesting dichotomy. Social media depends on engagement and that engagement is often driven by controversy. So in one respect, he’d have been welcomed with open arms.

I can almost picture the comments. You know more than a few people would take issue with the first statement. After all, isn’t the point of Memorial Day to remember (mourn) those who died? And what about the women who lived and died? Don’t they count? How can he be so callous to not care about those who died?

Those twenty words would have generated at least 200 comments. Depending on the group, the moderators would have shut off the comments when it got angry and mean.

I’m working on a piece about anger and the role it plays in decision-making. Stay tuned.

The General knew the value of being dogmatic often lies in the fact that it creates perspective. I’m reminded of the song, “I’ve looked at life from both sides now.”

So today I honor, mourn, and grieve for those who died. I don’t think that’s foolish or wrong. But I do think Patton was right to expect us to see the other side and be happy that those men (and women) lived.

That’s NOT Who You Are!

One honor I’m awarded annually is to serve as a judge in the Maine 4-H State Public Speaking Contest. Several years ago, I was wandering the hall during a break when I noticed a future presenter standing with her dad. Since it’s a friendly group, I greeted her and asked how she was. Her reply included, “I’m very nervous.”

I said, “No, you’re not.”

She countered, “Oh yes, I am. I’m REALLY nervous.”

I asked her name and then stated, “You are not nervous. You are Lisa. You are feeling nervous.” I’d distracted her, so she appeared less nervous and more curious. We had a brief conversation about the difference between who we are and what we are feeling and experiencing. I asked her if she had ever been sick. She confessed she had. “Well, again, you weren’t sick. You were Lisa. Lisa was feeling sick.” We practiced some other examples. “I’m Lisa. I’m feeling sad.”

She and her dad (who was really enjoying the conversation) caught the subtle difference in language. I closed it by summarizing, “So you are feeling nervous. When you give your presentation, remember that you are Lisa. You have worked hard and are prepared. Be Lisa who is prepared. It is okay to feel nervous but don’t let it interfere with who you really are. Feelings are energy. Be you and make that energy work for you.”

Unfortunately, I did not get to see her present—the luck of the draw, I suppose. One great thing about this contest is that judges are encouraged to give “feedback” to participants, so I didn’t break any rules even if I had judged her presentation. (Notice I would have judged her presentation. I would not have judged her.)

This year, I got to witness another example with a participant I was judging. She was better than good. Her presentation was actually about presenting—a creative touch. At the end, she started crying. She, of course, apologized and explained how much learning meant to her and how fortunate she was to have supporters and mentors.

In my judge’s feedback, I complimented her passion and admitted I nearly cried with her—that says much about the quality of her presentation. Her tears were not who she was, but they were a concrete and visible demonstration of how she felt.

This is not just about public speaking. It’s about communication. I recently had a heated discussion with a life-long friend. Fortunately, we were able to pause long enough to remember who we were and acknowledge how we were feeling. Then we were able to move past the anger back to who we were.

I offer you the same challenge I offered these two young adults. Remember who you are. Don’t forget that what you may be feeling isn’t who you are. And, as a bit of a bonus, when you “get” that, you realize that you need not be the victim of your emotions.

You might also create a bit of a game out of it. When you first see someone and ask them how they are, listen to the answer. They will tell you how they feel. “I’m really… tired, frustrated, happy…” You can reply, “I didn’t ask who you are. I know you are (name). But I understand you are feeling… tired, frustrated, happy…” (Be gentle, be nice, keep a smile on your face and in your voice.)

Be prepared for some interesting conversation about the difference between communicating who we are and how we feel.

Weirdly Wonderful

I have no ambitions to become a restaurant critic. But I do feel the need to share something weirdly wonderful about the last two meals I’ve had at Geaghan’s Pub in Bangor. In the interest of full disclosure, the “wonderful” includes excellent food, beer, and fantastic service. The weirdness is also wonderful, but it’s also rare, unfortunately. It appears every time I eat there, something wonderful happens. A few months ago, I met a new young lady (nine years old) at the pub who showed me how to create hope and happiness by drawing a picture for the guy (me) sitting at a table near her. She doesn’t know it, but she  inspired the title of a book I’ve been working on. I learned how to . Last night, things were busy as usual. When my waitress stopped to collect my drink order, she leaned in and said, “See that nice you couple getting ready to leave? They gave me a ten-dollar bill to put towards your dinner.” I should also add that I do not think I looked particularly destitute or needy. I was stunned. The waitress’s smile looked even bigger than usual. Remembering my previous experience. I replied, “Why is it that every time I come here, something nice happens to me?” The management of Geaghan’s can be proud of Jolene’s reply. “You’re in an Irish Pub. Nice people come here.” To her credit, she seemed not the least bit surprised by this act of kindness–there was nothing weird about it. The couple stopped at my table briefly as they left–not to explain, but to wish me a good meal and a nice evening. I thanked them profusely for their generosity. During my meal, I continued to think about how strange these experiences were. I found myself wondering what would happen the next time I ate there—and already planning my next visit. A hand-drawn picture and a ten-dollar bill created countless winners far beyond the givers and receiver. The “weirdness” might not be in the events themselves. What might be strange is the fact I was surprised by them. Jolene later also encouraged me to order dessert, reminding me that she still had that ten-dollar bill in her hip pocket to put towards my check. Unfortunately, I had to pass—the shepherd’s pie had done the job. My stomach was full. But so was my heart and head. I laid my credit card on the table for the check. Jolene started to explain how she was going to process the check as part cash and part credit. As she reached into her hip pocket, I said, “Wait! You might as well leave it there.” She looked a little confused, so I added, “That’s going to be your tip.” Some people I’ve told the story say, “You paid it forward.” I confess I do not fully “get” that concept. Maybe that is because I find words interesting. If you pay for the coffee of the person behind you in the drive-through, wouldn’t you be paying it backward? What I do “get” is what the nine-year-old did. Even if you don’t have any crayons, you can put color into another person’s life and your own. And if you do have some crayons (or ten dollars to spare), sharing them with someone just because you want to is not so strange or weird. It can be—should be—a way of life. We can make it so.

I needed this. I’ll bet you do too.

Just a little backstory. I was recently invited to join a leadership webinar featuring Shawn Achor. The name clicked. I first “met” Shawn nine years ago when I watched a TED Talk he gave. I just watched it again.

What a great twelve minutes it was. I smiled. I laughed out loud. I’ll bet you’d like to do that too. There’s a lot to think about here. You may decide to watch it more than once. It could change your day. It could change your life.

Seven Starting Strategies for Success

Written for new real estate sales agents but not limited to them!

“Try not to become a person of success, but rather try to become a person of value.”

Albert Einstein

Creating value creates success in the business of real estate. Selling houses doesn’t. Creating value for clients requires problem-solving, leadership, facilitation, and negotiation skills. And even though skills may not be enough. Success requires strategy.

  1. Accept the idea that you’re not prepared. Most pre-licensing education is designed to establish a good foundation but won’t help you figure out what to do and when to do it. The system is designed for new licensees to “learn as they go” with guidance from the company holding their license. Some agencies have formal programs; some do not. The real estate business does not lend itself to a cookbook approach–one of the things that makes it fun. Be an observer. Ask questions. Read voraciously. Watch Ted Talks and YouTube Videos that aren’t necessarily about real estate. Create your own professional development plan.  
  2. Have a long-term outlook. One big mistake new licensees make is becoming obsessed with closing a transaction. The closing should never be more important than the client. If you are dependent on the income at the outset, remember this: Someone wisely said, “Poverty often drives bad decisions.” Think hard about how you’re going to measure success. Write it down. Decide how you will measure that success in both the short term and long term. Commission checks are only one criterion, admittedly crucial for most people. But I can tell you that several of the most satisfying and rewarding experiences I had while practicing were the ones where I didn’t earn a dime.
  3. Have a sales mindset but know what you’re selling. Make sure you are clear on what you’re selling. You are not in the business of selling real estate. You are in the business of selling yourself, your expertise as a problem-solver, and your ability to help clients think through their decisions. At one time, a licensee’s value was access to the “Multiple Listing Book.” The only way to find out what was for sale was to contact a licensee. Thanks to technology, that’s no longer true—clients may know more about the property for sale than the licensee. Real estate is no longer an information business at the licensee level. (If it ever really was.) Real estate is a relationship business. I haven’t kept concrete data, but many successful licensees have a background in “helping” professions ranging from bartenders to hairdressers to teachers. 
  4. Develop a healthy attitude of “professional pride” that borders on arrogance. It’s more than a truism. “Desperation isn’t pretty.” I saw a licensee’s ad that offered, “Call me anytime–day or night…” and listed half a dozen phone numbers and contact routes. Think about what that licensee is offering as value. Think about what you are offering as your value. Make sure your marketing and advertising reflect what you offer and can deliver.
  5. Don’t think being busy is an accomplishment or a measure of success. If you find yourself working non-stop, long hours, consider the possibility that you haven’t appropriately prioritized. When I teach classes attended by students who are already licensed, it is not uncommon to see two extremes. On the one hand, some students are relaxed and attentive. When I announce a break, they continue to reflect on the material, maybe write a few more notes. On the other hand, some students are sneaking worried looks at their phones. They are half out of their chairs when I start announcing a break and usually late returning. I sometimes wonder how they would feel if I acted that way while teaching. Acting busy and rushed sends a message to your clients that they are not important and you don’t have time for them.
  6. Create accountability to yourself and your loved ones as well as your clients. Don’t lose sight of the big picture. These seven strategies all overlap and intermesh. Consider having your own policy manual as a way to remember and protect your values—and don’t hesitate to communicate those policies to others in words. I taught for decades before I wrote my philosophy of teaching. I wish I hadn’t waited. I know it changed over those decades, but I also see the common threads that ran through my teaching—the things that haven’t changed. You want to make sure your actions match your words. 
  7. Know and act like you’re a business person, an entrepreneur. The real estate business is a bit unique–in a true sense, you, the licensee, are a business within a business (the company/agency). In an ideal model, it’s about mutual success–your success contributes to the agency’s success and vice versa. But don’t give up your responsibility for creating your own value and success. Do give up blame-finding. If you aren’t getting enough leads, why not? If you aren’t managing your cash flow, why not? How are you going to solve those problems? Remember, that’s the business you are in!

I haven’t written much about goals and objectives in this article. Those are tactics—things that enable you to achieve your strategy. They are essential, but they won’t make you successful without some strategies.