Annie Reed, Meg Ryan’s character in Sleepless in Seattle, opined, “Destiny is something that we’ve invented because we can’t stand the fact that everything that happens is accidental.”
Perhaps everything is accidental, but that’s a tough pill for most people to swallow. Even if true, though, doesn’t this string of accidents still compound into destiny? A tougher pill yet for many folks is this notion of fate. Allow me to offer you my take on this.
The reason why there is a strong aversion to a fatalistic life-view is because it seems to suggest that people don’t have the most basic power: the ability to make choices, namely to make decisions for themselves. From the simple forks in life—latte or pour-over—to the less banal—stay in Colorado or move to North Carolina, a choice I have been faced with twice in my life—people want to believe that they have the option when encountered by these bifurcations. And perhaps you do! But, when it boils down to it, you made a choice and here you are, reading this publication. And I thank you for making that choice.
My idea of fate is perhaps very different from yours. I refused for many years to believe that we are destined for one particular future. That is, until I changed my perception on what I believe fate to be.
A true fatalist thinks that you cannot shape your future any more than you can change the cosmos. The universe will continue to run its course unabated to your decision to buy a latte or move back and forth between states. My interpretation of fatalism looks at the unwavering road of life in the rearview mirror. Specifically, you could not have made another choice because here you are. Wherever you go, there you are, man. Or some trippy trope like that.
Woah, slow down! I don’t agree with that. Surely, I could have made any decision I wanted to when I was presented with the options.
Could you have, truly? Perhaps, but you didn’t. And so here we are. Both of us. All of us. We’ve all taken our individual paths to arrive here in the present. Truly kismet.
I believe this mode of life is more empowering than the playing the game of “what if”. That game used to haunt me. “What if I hadn’t moved to North Carolina in 2004?” I don’t know! And I’ll never know. I have some good ideas, but I don’t even want to entertain them. The only prizes behind those doors are anxiety and grief. Has playing this game ever resulted in a positive outcome? Please, I’d like to know!
Putting those regrets in your past, and not looking back at them—I am not telling you to not reflect!—allows you to seize the opportunities you are currently presented with. Forgoing current opportunities in favor of ruing on the past will only keep you headed down the dark, brambled road of despair. No one knows what tomorrow’s going to bring, but we do know what yesterday was.
I know what you’re thinking. This is a heavy topic for a real estate agent’s newsletter. And it’s your first one! I’ve always been a bit deeper than what most folks want to participate in. I don’t regret that. I have learned my boundaries through the years though, and that is through countless hours of self-reflection.
But the overall topic stands: kismet. What brought me here? A string of life events, perfectly aligning with the present moment. My professional history, from the façade, doesn’t appear to suit me for the real estate business. The granular details, the intricacies of the woodwork, speak a different tale.
I cherish all of the previous opportunities that were presented to me. From my time working for American Eagle—a regional carrier for American Airlines—to my decade of history with Whole Foods Market, it’s all prepared me for my new embarkment.
I’ve encountered numerous folks who have said, “This is a good time to cash in on being a real estate agent.” For me, it’s not about that. I have always wanted to help people in a timely fashion, without forgetting to look at the specifics.
Being a baggage expeditor taught me how to fastidiously prioritize with empathy. Your luggage wasn’t just another piece of fodder after a flight cancellation. It was a physical embodiment of the person I would never meet, meant to be handled with care and precision. If you were catching a quick connection or your flight was cancelled and had to make ten new detours, I made sure your bag would be there when you arrived at your final destination.
As a grocery buyer—I started as a porter, the term then used for the janitor at Whole Foods; I did whatever it took to secure employment there—I handled large sums of someone else’s money, and I learned how to use it effectively and spend wisely. My boss might have something different to say about that, but I’m willing to bet you he’ll tell you I was one of the hardest working people you’ll ever meet. And I still am.
Whether it was leading a customer to the tahini for the umpteenth time or ensuring the right tag was on the right bag, the core of my work has always been customer satisfaction. Truly.
As I set my sails from comforting shores, headed into unfamiliar water, my vessel holds strong. Through experience, I’ve bolstered this ship and I’m more prepared than ever for the challenges ahead. I have a great team behind me, just in case. I look forward to ferrying you safely to your destination.
To quote Annie reed: “You make a million decisions that mean nothing, and then one day you order take-out, and it changes your life.”