I ran when I was younger. (Now, it would probably kill me, but I digress). No, really! I may be short, and as my beloved husband describes my body shape, sturdy, but I could run. I wasn’t a sprinter, but I could endure for the long runs, and I preferred cross country running, usually barefooted. There’s stories there, but I was talking about taking things in stride. If you watch a track event, you’ll see the elegance and grace of the hurdlers, racing up to increasingly challenging obstacles and leaping effortlessly over them. In real life, and cross country, you don’t get that. What you get instead are unexpected roots poking up just far enough for tripping but not enough to see in time.
You get the obstacles at odd times and spacing, not the neat, predictable hurdles of a track meet. Life is going to throw things in front of you, and giggle when you plant face into ground and come up spitting dirt. If you could practice beforehand and knew that if you ran a quarter of the track before you hit a hurdle, and it was going to be, oh, say, twenty inches high and the next hurdle would be exactly six yards later, you, too, could be a hurdler and make it look graceful. At least metaphorically speaking. But reality is that you can’t predict any of the obstacles, even if you see them coming. You can jump over that log, sure, but what’s on the other side of it? Waist-deep mud? No way to know until you’re in midair, and even then you might not see it because you’re looking ahead for the next obstacle already.
I’m writing this not because I’m mired in a mudhole. I’m actually feeling good about life right now. It’s just that I’m looking ahead at the hurdles that lie in our projected path and anticipating what needs to be done to clear each one in good order. There’s no telling what will actually happen – the plotline of our lives could take an unexpected left turn tomorrow. I roll over in bed and put my hand on his chest at least once most nights to reassure myself he’s still with me. there’s a million things that could go wrong between *here* and *there* but I still have to plan. I can’t lie here paralyzed with fear and ‘what if?’ because then I’ll never clear the hurdles. So I mentally walk the course, start making action lists and wish lists, and prepare for what’s ahead that I can actually see. I can prep a bit for the invisibles, but only to a certain point.
We’ve crossed the first hurdle in buying a house, for the second time. The first time we did it, the path took an unexpected turn after the inspection revealed serious structural concerns. That could happen here, too, although there are reasons we don’t think that will happen. The hurdles we still have to cross are: inspection, appraisal, closing, walk-through. Not to mention moving and what-not. Those are more about making sure we keep momentum on packing and decluttering. The other hurdles are dependent as much on others as us. For that matter, despite having jumped through special hoops (not on fire) to get more than just qualified for the loan, it’s remotely possible the financing will fall apart. Any one of these hurdles could catch an ankle and send us hurtling off course. As a result, I’m doing my best not to get too excited, but to be patient and wait until we’re closer to the finish line. That’s hard to do!
It’s not just buying a home. Any period of life will have obstacles, and there are two things we can do to reach the goal. Three things, but one is for when you actually arrive at that coveted point between the goal posts. The first two are to be looking ahead, anticipating the hurdles you can see, and preparing for how you will get over them. Me, I’ve been gathering reams of paperwork for the financing company (I got a bemused comment from the loan officer that I now hold the record for the most documents received in the shortest time after the application opened up) so that we didn’t have to spend weeks tracking down bits of paper that proved we really are responsible enough to pay a mortgage. I’ve got an inspector on tap for the house who I trust to find any hidden problems. I’m already packing…
The second thing you can do is be ready for the fall. You’re going to catch yourself on one of these hurdles and go down. It’s inevitable. We all have failures in life – they make success that much sweeter. Planning to fail is a smart move. What are you going to do if, say, that seller doesn’t accept your offer? We had another house we’d have turned around and put another offer on. Actually, this offer that led to a contract was the third offer we’ve made. We’ve looked at well over a dozen houses. I’ve researched three or four times that many before scheduling viewings. Mom and I went completely nerdy and created a spreadsheet complete with color coding to quickly compare prospective houses on the market. It’s a lot of work, but what it let us do was pick ourselves up with confidence when the first offer was countered at more than the listing price, and walk away. We didn’t need that particular house, and we just found the new path and went on. When the inspection failed on the second house, we started on yet another path. It’s not about being fatalist, it’s knowing that not everything you try will work, and having the resilience to pick yourself up after a fall, dust yourself off, and chart a new course for the goal.
We’ve always had the same goal in mind. A nest for our family. No matter what your goal is, when you reach it in time, you have to realize something. There is always going to be a new goal. It’s not that the goal posts move, it’s that you’ve got them in your rearview mirror, and what’s coming next is a new goal. Take the time to celebrate when you achieve a goal, but don’t linger and let your muscles stiffen up. Keep the momentum rolling. Define the new goal, and start looking for the obstacles. Life is a journey, someone said. Trite as that is, it’s true. Enjoy it. Don’t rush through it. Take time to prepare, to rest when you need that, but keep moving forward. There’s no standing still in life. But you get to choose how you take on the hurdles life throws at you. And you get to choose how you react to the failures that leave you in the mud.
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4 responses to “Hurdles”
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“Mom and I went completely nerdy and created a spreadsheet”
That was me when I was car shopping about a decade ago. It works.
It really does. I mean, I could set criteria like ‘3 beds, two baths’ but once I got down to the nitty-gritty of comparison (garden space, residential road versus main road, and so one) the spreadsheet helped to visualize a more ideal house when everything major was equal.
Before it happened to us, I found it hard to believe that buying a house could be so stressful. I presumed it was a huge life event just because of the ginormous sums of money being tossed around hypothetically. But, then one day, we were in the midst of it and I gradually came to recognize the depth of the situation. It’s a very wonderful but mostly turbulent time… and I’m not one of those people who can just buck and sway with the turbulence and pretend it’s all part of the ride!
It sounds like you’re doing everything (and maybe a bit more) than you need to to be prepared — that’s the best advice anyone could do. And not getting too wrapped up in anticipating success is important, too. I remember how heart-broken I was when the house I loved failed inspection and horrendous things were unearthed on the report (cloth-wrapped wiring in some of the rooms, knob-and-tube wiring in the living room, a new addition of the house was literally powered by an extension cord [not making this up], a back corner of the house appeared to be walking away from the foundation…). Ugh. I’d fantasized about our life in that house and now it was all gone in a matter of a day or two when things didn’t measure up.
Boy am I glad that deal fell through, though. I love where we wound up — both geographically and real estate wise! And I’m now beyond grateful we didn’t shackle ourselves to that hellhole I’d managed to idealize and romanticize! It’s scary to think how much these decisions can affect your lives for the long-run… and there’s only so much you can know in advance… and you’re only given a comparatively small amount of time to make such a big decision.
Best of luck to you! 🙂 I know it’ll turn out for the best.