Those words come from the preamble to the Code of Ethics and Standards of Practice of the National Association of Realtors. The rest of the document reads rather dry. But that first sentence always gets me. The very first time I read it it seemed to wash over me like a benediction.
Under all is the land.
On a patriotism scale I think I’d rank pretty high. I cry when I vote (this somewhat embarassing tendency has been mitigated by the vote-by-mail system in my county). What used to get me was the mix of people…different colors, different languages, different clothes, different customs, but we were all Americans. And we were all gathering at the local polling place to cast a vote for the leader or proposition or whatever of our choice. I may disagree with any one of the people, but we were all tied together in the running of this country. Picturing those same people sitting at their breakfast bar filling out their ballot doesn’t affect me in quite the same way.
Under all is the land
And every time I read that I choke up. The houses we build, the crops we eat, the highways we drive, all rise on this land. Everything we do, all the errands we run, the children we raise, the love we fall into, it all happens on this land.
Under all is the land
It is the law of supply and demand at its most basic. This is all there is. We’re not getting any more. The supply is finite, the demand is infinite.
Under all is the land
Does that not make you cry??
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