Working the West Pleasant View neighborhood just outside of Golden on an extremely pleasant afternoon. The sun is shining, fall colors are ablaze, and the temperature is around 60 degrees with a light breeze blowing the leaves around. Frankly it’s hard to imaging a nicer way to spend a Wednesday afternoon.
I have been out for an hour and I’ve made 12 face-to-face contacts. Including a family cleaning up the home of their father, who passed away recently. They will definitely be selling the house, they say. I got the name and phone number of a sibling who is in charge of the estate.
I’ve stopped at King Soopers to use the facilities. Been out for one hour and made a dozen contacts and uncovered a very promising lead. I should be happy and eager to hit it again. But I am resistant. Trying to fight the urge to call it a day. Why?
It is a challenging business, knocking on the doors of strangers. Every encounter is a bit stressful and a little scary.
But what am I afraid of? That is what’s really hard to understand. Having knocked maybe a thousand doors, only a couple of people were even remotely hostile. And both, as I recall, seemed a bit off. Emotionally unbalanced, if not outright nut jobs.
I am competent, smart, personable, and professional. As a real estate agent, I offer something that many people need very much. I offer it in a friendly manner, without pressure, sincerely coming from a place of service. I can take no for an answer, and usually do
Why, then, do I feel fear? It’s a hard question to answer. But the mystery of it somehow motivates me to continue. Because maybe it’s a way to discover something important about myself, and to exorcise demons.
On this day, however, I did not return to the streets. I called it quits and drove straight home from King Soopers.