I’ve heard it said that waiting for something to happen is sometimes more about how long we feel is necessary rather how long it really takes. I was pondering this idea one morning as I walked through our neighborhood.
What if we don’t have to wait two years for our hacienda? What if it could happen sooner than 2020? Am I prolonging it because I think two years is somehow required?
And then the fear of the unknown, loan approvals, inspections, closing costs, and leases overtook me, so I turned it off and admired a beautify palm tree, the blue sky and the white ocean waves.
A few days later I sat on the sofa deeply engulfed in a project when the phone rang. I glanced down and saw it was a local number and felt the need to answer.
“Hello, this is Jeannie.” (long pause – callers always mistake me for a recorded message.)
“Oh, hello,” the voice replied. “My name is Lauri, I’m a local realtor and I’m calling to see if you have considered selling your home?”
“No, I’m sorry, we are currently renters.”
“Well, have you considered buying…”
Lauri continued to tell me about the current market and how she could assist us in finding a new home. Her voice faded in the background as two other conversations began playing in my head. Sometimes we stand in the way because we have predetermined our own timeline and Lady you have the wrong number!
Then the phone went quiet and I realized Lauri had finished and it was time for me to say something. Get out of the way – maybe this could lead somewhere – go ahead and tell her about the Hacienda dream – Really? You want a realtor calling you every other day to check up on you….it’s way too soon…
“Well actually,” I heard myself say, “we have a plan, but we are really early in it and we won’t be ready for two years…” I told Lauri of our hacienda dream, how it would be three families and we all needed separate living space. How we really hadn’t even begun looking…cause, did I mention, we were still two years away.
“Let’s just get some information and I’ll start sending you listings and if anything looks interesting, you can call me.” So we did and she took the info about pricing, size, bedrooms etc.
“And your last name is Hardy?” she continued.
I laughed and said, “No, that not my last name.” At that moment I think we both realized that this may have been the strangest conversation of the day. Wrong address. Wrong last name and a Chicago phone number – what a were the odds?
Fast forward four weeks and I’m shaking Lauri’s hand for the first time as we are stand outside a big blue ranch house on top a hill with a view to die for. One week later six of us are signing paperwork in the kitchen of that house and putting in an offer on a dream.
Maybe we do stand in the way of wonderful things happening to us.
Maybe time is only defined by us, not the universe.
Maybe we’ve been waiting for things to happen and we really don’t have to.
Maybe wrong numbers are really right numbers and miss-information is exactly the information needed.
For more information about the author check out: www.jeanniebruenning.com