Sunday Reflection: Don't Flinch at the Coyote

Jeff Sorg

May 16

3 min read

Updated: Jun 1

I stepped onto the patio this morning just in time to see a coyote's eyes catch mine as it was leaving the yard. Neither of us flinched. Mutual respect.

A coyote with mottled gray-brown fur stands alert, staring intently in a grassy, blurred background. It conveys a calm yet focused demeanor.

At the same time, the first low light of the day falls across the magnificent San Jacinto peaks ever present in my view. There is a brief but almost unnoticeable window right before the sun crests the mountains and the heat begins. This is when the desert wind goes completely still.

It's usually quiet, but today I heard the sound of a hummingbird darting through the flowering bougainvillea. He's here to watch the sunrise, too.

But the sun rises quickly here. Five minutes later, the shadows shorten, the breeze returns, and the day takes over. The moment has gone and will never be witnessed again.

I sat with that quiet moment for a while before turning it into a Sunday Reflection. The morning got me reflecting on how easily I used to let the noise of my real estate business crowd out the quiet moments in life. I wondered how things might have been different if I’d learned to just take a moment back then, the way I do now.

Back then, by mid-morning, the weekend rush of clients would already be in full swing. The texts would be flying, a transaction would hit a bump, three or more offers in the email, or an anxious buyer would bring a week's worth of stress into an open house—a buyer without a broker.

My temptation was always to let those activities set my speed and reaction. I would always sprint toward the issue or absorb the client's emotion and react. But today, I realize I mistook that constant motion for professionalism. I thought it made me the leader in the room.

Back then, I also always checked my email and never the sunrise.

Now, I've learned that our true value to a client isn't always going to be our speed. Many times—most times—it’s our stillness.

When clients are making the biggest financial and often emotional decisions of their lives, they don't need an agent who mirrors their anxiety, panic, or stress. Instead, they need the perspective of someone who has seen the cycles of many different markets. They need a reassuring agent who confidently knows that most things can be fixed—an agent with confidence who walks into chaos and immediately lowers the anxiety because they've seen it all before and know what to do.

Be that agent. Be the one who possesses the knowledge that the sun will once again rise over the majestic San Jacintos and offer a moment of reflection and realization to those willing to accept it.

If we don’t claim a few minutes of stillness for ourselves before the morning moment disappears forever, and if we can't learn how not to flinch when our eyes meet those of a coyote, we can't expect to have a proper perspective to offer when a client needs us.

Before the day gets loud and your phone starts ringing, step away from the screen. Give the market five minutes while you step out to watch your sunrise. Maybe you, too, will find a moment of mutual respect with a coyote.

Until next time,