Stranger Than Fiction

I'm so honored that Meg White of Realtor Magazine would review my book, Tales From Sales!  Click on the link to view her review!  I'm on cloud 9! Thank you, Meg!

Stranger Than Fiction

How To Change a Work-A-Holic Realtor

                                           How To Change a Work-A-Holic Realtor
                                           (It Includes Thai Food and an Ambulance)

     Last Friday afternoon, my entire office personnel and my husband went to eat at our favorite Thai Food restaurant. It was like any other normal day, except I wasn't leaving in my husbands truck. I was leaving in the back of an ambulance.

      This is for all of you work-a-holic Realtors out there and for anyone in any position where you just can't stop working. Stop. Take a break. This is my first time for this to happen and hopefully the last time as I have had to change my entire work schedule and how I do things entirely. We had paid our bill and were just talking about our responsibilities for the remainder of the day which were quite hefty. We are blessed with a busy brokerage. Suddenly the top of my head went numb. Then my face went numb and inside my head felt like someone had just plugged me in and it was electrically humming! Then the numbness went down my neck into my chest and arms then into my hands. I started feeling heavy like I couldn't hold myself up and keep my eyes open. My husband immediately called 911 as he is a Firefighter and Emergency Medical Technician. He knew I was about to go out.

     My co-workers immediately saw my color change, I slumped in my chair and my speech was slurred. One of my co-workers pulled my hair up using a chopstick. I didn't even know it at the time, I couldn't feel my head. By the time the ambulance got there, I didn't even know what was going on. Only during the ambulance ride to the hospital did I start to realize what was happening. It happened twice more at the hospital and it was a very scary feeling like I was about to lose consciousness. I couldn't shake the dizziness, nausea and numbness. They tested me for a stroke, heart attack, did a CT scan and every other test you can run. They kept me overnight to observe me to find out why this wasn't stopping or why I wasn't feeling any better. My vitals were normal and all my tests came out normal. I am perfectly healthy. So now is where I get the lesson of a lifetime.

     The Doctor came in and asked what my work week was like. Before I could even start talking, my phone started ringing, buzzing, and dinging with multiple texts and emails from clients and other business related issues. He asked if it was always like this. I said, "Yes. It's the life of a Realtor." He said, "No. That's where you're wrong. That's the life of a dead Realtor."

     Silence.

     After I explained that I work every day and haven't taken a real day off in two years and haven't taken a vacation in over 4 years, he simply shook his head and asked me if I wanted to live. I told him I thought I was living. He said, "You're going to die if you don't stop. Yesterday, your body told you it needs rest and to slow down. If you don't slow down, you're body will slow down for you and next time may not be so nice."

     I get it. I understand. I cried for what seemed like hours because at that moment, I realized I had been cheating my family of my time. And if I had kept on, I was cheating them of my life and my presence completely. For a work-a-holic, the only way of life that we know is to wake up thinking of work, to work all day and to go home and stay up on the computer working out ways to be ready for the next day and to get one step ahead. I realized that I haven't had a full nights sleep in over 4 years that hasn't been interrupted in some way. I've pushed my body to the absolute limit and I can't expect to continue this way.

     Today, I'm typing this during an Open House and I've had to reschedule three clients for Monday because I'm taking tomorrow off to be with my family. Because my family deserves ALL of my time. I had clients that I cannot show rental homes to them this evening because my husbands birthday party is tonight. They didn't like my answer and it was hard to tell them no because I don't want anyone to be upset with me. I have changed my voicemail to let people know when my days off are and that I won't be available. I have also set normal work hour parameters. I would usually get home around 8:30 at night. That is unacceptable. I'm wrapping up at 5 and headed home to hang out with my precious daughter. Life is simply too short to not focus on God, family and quality relaxation time. I still have a great work ethic, I just changed the rules. If this story has hit too close to home for you, take today to change your priorities and change your schedule. Set the right expectation for your clients and anyone else in your life that demands your time. Let them know when you start and stop accepting calls, emails and texts and if it's beyond your "end" time it will have to wait until tomorrow. Nothing is more important than your health and being able to be there for your family for years to come. I'm a new Realtor. A better Realtor. A healthier Realtor. It just took a big slap in the head to make me see it. Thanks for the reminder, God. Written by: Myka AllenJohnson Owner/Realtor StarPointe Realty Author: Tales From Sales: Hilarious, Outrageous and True Stories From Home Sales www.talesfromsalesmykajohnson.com forsalebymyka@yahoo.com 512-585-3703 cell

Lessons From Zig Ziglar's Granddaughter

“Do What You’re Doing Now To The Best Of Your Ability.”

Zig Ziglar’s Granddaughter, DeDe Galindo

April 24, 2013

 

                Today I was honored to meet a legend in the inspirational speaking industry.   She is DeDe Galindo, Zig Ziglar’s granddaughter.  What an inspiration and a positive influence.

                The last time I saw Zig Ziglar speak before he passed away was in 2008 in Dallas, Texas.  Previously, I had seen him speak and he was all over the stage!  Running from one end to the other…reaching out to people with unbridled enthusiasm.  He was mesmerizing!  This last time I saw him, he was helped to the stage by his daughter.  He sat in a chair for almost two hours answering questions from his daughter and the crowd.  Unbelievably, THIS time, was the most mesmerizing he has ever been.  I absorbed every word he spoke and remembered every story.  Two hours seemed like two minutes.  You could have heard a pin drop in the American Airlines Center.  He received a standing ovation for what seemed like several minutes.  I did not want it to end. 

                When I left, I was uplifted, inspired and determined to make my life and my career an inspiration to others.  I thought to myself, “How can such a small in stature man have the power to silence, inspire and bring tears to thousands?”

                The answer to that question was answered again today by his granddaughter, DeDe.  It was his purpose.  It was his purpose and his drive in life.  He had a genuine passion and love for helping others become better and he was a living testimony that it worked.  I realized when I left the American Airlines Center that day, that I had a purpose driven life and I was able to set goals that have helped me get to the place where I am today and I haven’t stopped climbing and setting resolves for bigger and better things.

                DeDe Galindo spoke today about following your purpose.  She tells us to have the “Right Mental Attitude.”  We should always be aware  of our surroundings.  Surround yourself with other purpose driven and positive people; listen to them and keep learning.

                Are you ready when you’re big break comes? Or when opportunities present themselves?  If you’re not, it can pass you by and you’ll never know it was there.  Overcome suffering and hard times.  Do not let it take over.  Get back up and find your purpose again.  Wherever you are right now, whatever you’re doing while you’re reading this blog…do what you’re doing right now to the best of your ability.  You’ve made decisions that have led you to this moment in time, right now.  Get up…do the best you can do right now and every day.  You will create beautiful opportunities for success when you do.

                What is your purpose right now in your life?

Written by:
Myka AllenJohnson
Author/Realtor/Brokerage Owner
Author: Tales From Sales: Outrageous, Hilarious and True Stories From Homes Sales
Realtor/Owner: StarPointe Realty in Killeen, Texas
forsalebymyka@yahoo.com
www.talesfromsalesmykajohnson.com
www.starpointeforthoodhomes.com

 

From left to Right:

VP of Women's Council of Realtors, Gloria Smith, DeDe Galindo and Myka AllenJohnson

Why I Look Like A Deranged Ninja 363 Days of The Year

Why I Look Like A Deranged Ninja 363 Days A Year

 

                I have a debilitating fear that keeps me from effectively showing homes to my wonderful clients in the Spring and Summer.  In Texas, it’s Spring and Summer all year with only two days of Winter.  So, I’m deemed officially, an anxiety ridden agent with the propensity to pass out at any given moment for 363 days of the year.  How, you may ask?  It all started when I was 4 years old in Houma, Louisiana.

 

                In the year 1978, I had the highest and worst fever I had ever had in my short little life.  I remember all of the events as if they were moments ago in my mind.  I was lying in my cute little bed, sick, coughing, burning up with fever.  Suddenly, I heard a noise in the hallway.  I looked over my toes, over the end of the bed and into the doorway.  Something about two feet tall, white and fuzzy leaned into the doorway and looked at me.  I was scared stiff!  It had no face but looked like a spider web cocoon that was two feet tall and about a foot wide. 

 

                It waddled into the doorway where I could fully see it.  It looked like the frosted side of a frosted mini wheat.  I know.  It’s stupid.  But I was scared to death!  Somehow, it climbed up the foot of my bed, crawled over my feet and stood on my legs rocking back and forth.  I was paralyzed with fear.  I couldn’t move, breathe or make a sound.  Suddenly, it lunged at me and ran up my body and attached itself to my face!! Like in the movie Alien and I was Sigourney Weaver!  I couldn’t breathe!  All I could see was white webbing and it was sticky like a spider web.  It was horrifying!

 

                After struggling for what seemed like an eternity, I finally was able to scream out to my mom.  When she came running in and sat by my side, it ran back down my body and out into the hall.  She hadn’t seen it of course.  I told her what had happened and she told me that I was hallucinating because of my fever.  But the damage was done.  I was forever deathly afraid of spider webs.  Not the spiders.  Just the spider webs. 

 

                Now, it still affects me the same way.  In Spring and Summer, I walk around completely terrified because webs are just floating on the wind everywhere!  If one wraps around me or touches me…I hit the ground, completely paralyzed!  My husband thinks it’s hilarious and just laughs and points at me while I’m lying on the ground wrapped in soft, completely non-harmful silk.  It’s my kryptonite.

 

                Sometimes I tell my clients and sometime I don’t.  Sometimes I have to tell my clients because as I’m walking around outside, I’ll duck, jump, run several feet around one, crawl on my knees to escape a floating web or simply lay down on the ground and wait for it to float past, all while whining and whimpering for it to please go away.  Only when my clients are staring at me thinking I’ve completely lost my mind, do I then have to tell them my stupid fear.  I look like a deranged ninja trying to steal a diamond that’s guarded by deadly lasers throughout the room.  Except not as cool and stealthy…and not in as good of shape. 

 

                What are you afraid of?

 

 

Written by:  Myka Allen Johnson

Published Author of Tales From Sales:  Hilarious, Outgrageous and True Stories From Home Sales

Owner/Realtor of StarPointe Realty in Killeen, Texas

Follow me on Twitter:  @StarPointeMyka

Like me on Facebook:  www.facebook.com/talesfromsales

"I just talked to my dead cat, MuMu."

 

"I Just Talked To My Dead Cat, MuMu."

 

      A few years ago I obtained an amazing listing that any Realtor would die to get their hands on!  They had met with nearly every Realtor in town and weirdly decided that they liked me.  (Not sure now if this is a compliment.)  We had a great first meeting.  We toured the home, had a great conversation that lasted for a couple of hours.  Somehow, we ended up talking about how much we loved our pets.  So I sat there and listened to the owner talk about her beloved cats.  Not a big deal, but it hadn't gotten weird yet.  We ended the meeting on a great note and agreed to meet the next week to take pictures of the home.

 

     The week dragged on.  I was so excited to get back out there and take pictures of the gorgeous home.  I was going to be the envy of every Realtor in town.  Upon entry, we immediately started talking again and of course the chatter began about the owner's cats.  She has one at her other house and her almost human like cat/child, "MuMu" had just passed away. 

 

     She was able to communicate through a choked voice, tears and puffed out bottom lip that MuMu was her son, her pride and joy and the reason she lived.  She didn't think she could go on.  And at this moment, she had to sit down, the grief was overwhelming.  Which meant, I had to sit down, put my hand awkwardly on her hand and tell it would be okay.  The conversation that came next is one I've never had with anyone.

 

     Me:  "Please don't be sad.  I'm a firm believer that our pets go to heaven.  He's in a better place now."

 

     Her:  "I know.  I just want him here."  She choked out. 

 

     Me:  "Well...(at loss for words) maybe you can get another cat."

 

     Her:  "Are you kidding?  MuMu is coming back.  I can't get another cat." She beligerantly yelled at me like I was an idiot.

 

     Me:  "Umm...what?  What do you mean?  Like Pet Sematary?" (That's how it's spelled in the movie.)

 

    Her:  "What?  Well...we buried him in the pet cemetary close to our home outside of town."

 

     Me:  "Oh yeah.  That's the one they're going to move and make room for a new subdivision." (Big mistake.)

 

     Her:  "WHAT???" she screamed and started wailing, crying and asking me to tell her that's not true.

 

    Me:  "W...w...w...well, maybe it's not true.  I...I..I'm not totally sure."

 

     Her:  "Well I hope not!  He said he was trying be happy where he was.  If we move him, he'll just freak out even more! 

 

     Me:  "Uhhh...what do you mean, 'he said' and 'he's coming back'?"  (I was really starting to think I would have to call the authorities.)

 

     Her:  "I just got back from Michigan for the second time.  I went to talk with a pet psychic.  I needed to speak with MuMu.  He can't live without me."

 

     Me:  (Thinking to myself...yeah, he's dead.  He definitely can't live.  What the heck is this about?)

 

     Her:  "The pet psychic couldn't find his spirit at first because alot of pets were trying to come through and talk to her. (Imagine me with a "is this a joke?" face.)  But then...then...my MuMu came through.  He told the pet psychic that he was scared where he was and that he needed time to adjust.  He needed exactly a year.  When it's been a year since MuMu's death, I should go to the pound and look for a cat that looks like MuMu (black and white) or has red hair.  Then he'll be reincarnated within the cat I choose and my MuMu will come back to me.  He'll come back!"  And she started to sob again.

 

     Me:  (Not believing this was even a real conversation.) "Well, there ya' go!  Proof positive all will be well.  Let me just get these last few pictures done." I got up slowly to take the rest of the photos and mainly to get away from the madness.

 

    

     So she layed her head on the table, exhausted from the sobbing and pain that she had to wait a year for her cat to be reincarnated.  I wandered around taking photos in surreal silence, only interrupted by an occasional murmur that whispered sadly, "Mumu." 

 

     I had so many questions.

 

     How does a cat communicate with a pet psychic?  Series of foot taps?  Tail swings?  Yowling once for yes and twice for no?  If I can't tell if my cat is constipated or hungry in the real world, how can a dead cat communicate reincarnation to a live human?  Then I found out she spent about five grand on the whole ordeal.  Suddenly...I think my cats are making more sense and if any of you doubt it, I'll prove it to you, for a small fee. 

 

     What do you think you're cat is saying to you?

 

Psychic:  "See..he's clearly thinking he needs more playtime from you in order to be happy."

 

Cat:  "I need to poop."

 

    



 



What's Your Level of Consciousness?

What’s Your Level Of Consciousness? 

“I don’t need training.  I’ve been doing this for years.”

“They can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

“Real estate is easy!  Anybody can do that!  Are you kidding?”

“How hard can it be?  Hey…you want this house?  Yeah?  Ok.  Let’s go.”

                I hear these words on a regular basis from other people in and out of the business.  The fact of the matter is, no matter if you are in the real estate industry or out of it, there are levels of consciousness that we need to be aware of when you are trying to advance and be an expert in your field.  You are currently standing firm on one of the levels of consciousness but you may not know what it is.  Knowing is key.  When you know where you are and where you stand, then…you can move up to the next level.

                Let’s take a look at these levels and then determine where you may fall on the scale.

               When you’re evaluating yourself in a certain field to determine your level of consciousness and your expertise in that field, you have to look at these five levels.  It’s easier to illustrate them when you use the example of riding a bicycle. 

                The first level, Unconscious Incompetent, we begin to look around us at other people riding a bicycle.  They make it look easy!  You think, “I can do this! Too easy!” But you have no idea that you don’t know how to ride.  You get a bicycle and ride a foot and fall over.  What?  I thought this was easy.  You didn’t know…that you didn’t know.  But this knowledge propels you to the next level.

                The second level, Conscious Incompetent, simply means, now that you’re sitting on the ground with a skinned knee and elbow, you simply know that you don’t know how to ride.  Now you know that you’ve got to put a good deal of work into this bike riding thing!  If you want to be like all the other kids zipping around on their bikes, you better get to work and put a plan together.  Working towards a goal shoots you up to the next level of consciousness.

                Conscious Competent is the third level and after you’ve practiced a bit, you are now riding your bike slowly but surely on the neighborhood streets.  You have to pay attention to every little detail of what you’re doing; steering, pedaling, speed, braking and also driving defensively.  If you aren’t focused you’ll fall again.  You’re not proficient enough yet to ride with no hands or do tricks but you now know that you know how to ride.  You’ve come a long way but you still want to zip around the park without having to constantly pay attention to what you’re doing and think about it.  Your new goal of leisurely riding around without thinking so hard about it has boosted you up to the fourth level.

                At the fourth level, Unconscious Competent, you’ve practiced so much that you can now ride, do tricks, and not have to even think about all the details while you’re riding.  You are a great bicycle rider and its fun!  It feels great to get on your bike, ride with your friends, laugh and talk and have a great time.  Now you’re going to the bike park and doing some tricks, wheelies and other new things that you’re practicing.  The more you enjoy this level, practice and it becomes natural to you, the closer you get to the last level of consciousness.

                The last level is Conscious and Unconscious Competent.  This simply means that you’ve mastered this field enough to be considered an expert.  You have the knowledge that it takes to teach someone and to advise them in your field of bike riding.  You’re a professional.  The tricky part to this level is that if you don’t continue to practice and/or teach you can move back down to the fourth level.  We should all strive to be at this top level, but we should never be satisfied, and should always strive to do more and be more.

                Change out the term “bike riding” for your field of expertise.  If you’re at the top level that’s great!  But what are you doing to stay there and continue to raise the bar?  There are people on the levels below you that are setting goals and scrapping and pushing every day to reach the same level as you.  Will they surpass you because you’re content with your current location? 

                I hope this starts a good discussion.  Please leave your comments.  If you were to assess yourself today, what level would you be on?  Where would your friends and co-workers assess you?

Written by:

Myka AllenJohnson

Owner/Realtor of StarPointe Realty

forsalebymyka@yahoo.com



All The Money In The World

 

All The Money In The World

 

 

     Most of the time, you don't expect to be inspired or completely awestruck on any given day.  You get up every morning, brush your teeth, put your clothes on, and walk out the door for another vanilla day at work.  Being here in Killeen, close to Fort Hood,  has given me a chance to meet the strongest and bravest individuals I know I'll ever meet in life.  When my husband began his career as a firefighter, I would stay up the nights he was on shift and pray for him to come back home safely.  Nearly ten years later; I'm still doing it, but with my daughter now.  "Please take care of daddy. Watch over him and bring him home safely to us in the morning. Amen."

 

     Until I moved here to Killeen and started to really see what life was like for these families, I didn't realize how lucky I have it.  My husband works twenty four hours then he's off for forty eight hours.  To me and my daughter, that twenty four hour stretch is excruciating and we just want daddy home with us.  These military families go without their mommies and daddies for twelve to eighteen months at a time!  Some daddies miss the birth of their sons and daughters, some mommies and daddies miss the first steps, the first words, the first day of school or just being able to watch them grow and to hug them everyday.

 

     The military moms and dads are across the world, fighting for our freedom and are occasionally getting to speak to their loved ones on the phone or web.  No one can know what's it's like for our soldiers over there.  We know they come back changed.  No one can know what it's like for the families who are here without their loved ones.  Not knowing if they're safe tonight or any night.

 

      Some of the strongest women I've ever known have been military wives who somehow take care of everything that needs to be taken care of, be everywhere that all the kids have to be and somehow retain their sanity and give all of their love to their children and to their significant other across the phone or Internet and still find time to support other families and friends in need. 

 

     I met one of these strong military wives one day as I was selling homes for a local builder.  Two women walked into the model home; one was obviously the mother and the other the daughter.  They looked so much alike.  The daughter came in and did not raise her head but looked at the floor.  She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties.  The mother was definitely the leader and began a conversation with me.  She told me that her daughter and she would like to find two homes.  One for her and her husband and one for their daughter.  They wanted to live next to each other.  They had a very close family. 

 

      I realized after about thirty minutes that the daughter had still not said a word and she couldn't even look at me.  The mother was friendly and told me a lot about what they were looking for  but I could tell there was something else they were holding back. 

 

     So I took them to look at a few homes, the mother said she liked two but never asked the daughter what she liked.  They exchanged a couple of painful glances but that was about it.  I tried to start conversations with the daughter, to break the silence and awkwardness but the mother would interrupt and start on a different topic.  I knew that we had the right homes for them, in the right location and the right price.  The mother gave me their contact information and left with me telling them that I would call them tomorrow.

 

     I sat in my office and just thought about that entire two and half hours of interaction.  Not a single word from the daughter. Maybe she had emotional problems or physical problems.  I didn't want to guess but I knew that I needed another piece of the puzzle.  So after they left, I began to write them a thank you note and the thank you turned into a longer note about how much I enjoyed helping them and how I wanted to make sure they found something perfect for their family because I could tell their daughter meant the world to them.

 

     Two days later, the mother and daughter showed up again in my model, with a baking tin full of brownies.  The daughter was still staring at the floor but I saw that she had the letter I had written them in her hand.  The mother handed me the brownies and said, "We've been a lot of places to look at homes.  This will be a special deal and we feel like we can trust you.  No one else cared to spend the time or to write us a letter.  We'd like to show our appreciation with these brownies and we'd also like to build our homes with you."

 

     She started to tear up a little and handed me the brownies.  I thanked her and we all sat down in my office and ate brownies and drank coffee.  The mother suddenly said, "I don't know when my daughter will want to speak up.  She's been through a terrible experience that we won't get into right now.  But I can tell you what she would like in her new home until she feels up to talking."

 

     I still had no idea what was going on, but I knew this sweet girl had gone through some sort of trauma.  She still had not looked me in the eye or even mumbled a word.  At the moment, she sat eating her brownie and while her mom talked, she paused and stared ahead of her. 

 

     Suddenly the daughter put her brownie down, without looking up and without moving she said, "Thank you for not asking me to talk.  Thank you for not asking what was wrong with me or why I'm so quiet.  Thank you for your letter."

 

     Then she looked me right in the eyes with tears rolling down her cheeks and said, "My husband was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder in Iraq and he killed himself.  He was my soul mate.  He was my life.  I wasn't there for him when he needed me.  I couldn't help him when he needed help.  I was here; safe.  He was there; sad and suffering.  I don't have a husband.  I won't ever get to have his children."

 

     At this, she stopped and lost control.  The mother put her arm around her daughter as if to say, "That's enough." But the daughter wanted...needed to go on. 

 

     With anger this time she said, "The only reason I can buy this house is because my husband killed himself!  I have to use the money I got from his death!  I would give back every penny and everything I have to have him back today!" She screamed.  "This house will always remind me that he will not be here to share it with me." And with those final words, she broke down and cried a long overdue cry that sounded like relief and at the same time absolute despair. 

 

     We all sat together and cried and prayed.  I helped build two houses for these unbelievably strong women.  There were happy days and there were sad days.  But family sticks together and it's love knows no bounds.  That was several years ago and they still live next to each other in the same homes I sold them.  Only now, the daughter has found a husband and there's a beautiful baby who lights up their home.  It's not the family that she had originally planned; but it's a wonderful sight for me to see her running in her front yard, chasing her little toddler.  Happy and full of love again. 

 

     If you ever need a moment to put things in perspective when you wake up every morning thinking about how bad your day is...be thankful for your family, for undying love, for a God who takes care of us even in the bleakest and darkest of days and for the fact that you are alive.  Wherever you are, when you see a soldier, thank them; buy their lunch or just shake their hand.  They deserve happiness and respect. The reason we can get up in the morning, go to work, be free and be happy and safe is because they are protecting us. There are thousands of families who would gladly give everything they have to get their loved ones back who have given their lives for our freedom.  Thank you soldiers and military.  Army strong.