I recently moved from one real estate brokerage to another. I have a lot of friends at the brokerage where I left, and only one at the new place. Change isn’t something I tackle with ease, and when I was discussing making the move with my real estate coach, he asked me to tell him the six words I associated with making this move. I came up with focused, freedom, brave, directed, powerful and strong.
Then, knowing that I process best through writing, he asked me to do a blog post, once each week, for six weeks, on a different word from my list. So, second in the series…FREEDOM.
It’s hard to write that word in association with this situation. I don’t want it to read like I was held captive or worked under a dictator, because that certainly wasn’t true.
When I was trying to decide where to go when I knew I would be leaving, one option was to open my own brokerage. I have my managing broker’s license, which in Washington Real Estate Land, means I can supervise others, including myself, in a brokerage scenario. I spoke about it with a friend and she said, “That might be the best option for you. You always balk at being told what to do. You like it when you call the shots.”
All true. I’ve been that way my whole life.
But that still isn’t the freedom I’m talking about.
I guess it’s the other side of freedom? It’s not the side where you’re bound in some way and then you’re released…not the side where a battle or war is fought and the victor is free to pursue the cause they were fighting for. It’s the side where you are free to walk in the space of your own choices.
I remember when I was in college, I was walking back to my dorm from the library, around 8pm (I know how to live large, don’t I? Late-evening party at the library! Woot! Woot!). Suddenly, I had a thought that stopped me on the path – no one knew where I was right then. My parents and brothers were miles away. My roommate was gone for the night. I was not being held accountable for my time right that minute. I could have walked further, over to my car, and driven until I’d run out of gas. NO ONE WAS WAITING FOR ME.
I still remember that feeling vividly, thirty years later. This feels similar to that – I am free to walk in my own choices…and it feels AMAZING.
Love this post. Love your definition of freedom.