The Knowing Makes It So.
...I think so, if the knowing is pure and unabashed.
Take, for instance, this process in which we are trying to purchase a house that is currently out of our means.
On my reconnaisance mission I saw but one house. The house was perfect, and I knew, along with my godmother realtor and mother, that this was the perfect house, no more searching was warranted.
When I went to the bank for a prequal letter, our credits were run, and it was officially decided ("official" I say 'cause I could have told them as such) that we have dicey (not the technical term) credit. However, where we may have been left out in the proverbial cold in the past, banks today have all sorts of neat devices whereby one can deeply indebt oneself, no matter the credit sitch.
Also, having a mother on the "inside" doesn't hurt.
And thus, I was informed that a credit "product" could be produced for us, and that said product would get us where we needed to be in terms of offering on this perfect house.
I knew that. I was a little nervous, but for the most part, I knew that.
So, I made an offer, the number I came up with all by my amateur self, of 380K on a house with an asking price of 369,900. I decided to offer 380 because I knew that there had been at least 6 offers on the house already.
Our offer was the highest by 1K.
I knew we would bid highest. Not because I am a real estate pro, or even a well-educated amateur. I just knew, because the house is perfect for us, and it is ours.
Then, there is the home inspection. The seller has already stipulated that he will only pay $500 toward any repairs recommended by the inspector. So, there is some concern about what kinds of problems may be found in a house originally constructed in 1947.
The inspection proves unfruitful, and the majority of items found were minor nitpicky things, so we get to bank the $500 for future home warranty calls.
I knew that would happen. I knew it, because we have *no* spare money to be making major repairs beyond the initial $500 offered, and therefore it is not possible that major repairs will be required.
Then, there is more tension at the bank, because our credit has not improved in the last 4 days, and in fact, upon actually reading the fine print, it has deteriorated further.
But still there is a loan for us.
If..... the appraisal comes out at the offered price.
More opportunity for tension. Appraisals appointments take up to two weeks, I am told. Ours happens within three days, because we are on a tight schedule here, with the 11th of September as the final date to pull escrow. I knew it would. I knew, because this is the perfect house; this is *our* house, and we are meant to live here, my husband, my brother, and myself.
Another opportunity for tension arises when awaiting the verdict. The bank will only loan us 80% of the appraised value, which may or may not be the offering price. If the appraisal comes out much lower, we will not be able to have the house, because we will not be able to front the cash to cover the loan gap.
I just heard by phone from my godmother who first said that the appraisal would come out at the offered price, and then said, "Well, you just never know," that the appraisal came out at the offered rate of $380K.
I knew it would, and I said as such, to which she replied, "Well, you just never know."
But I did know, and have learned through this process the value of continuing to know, and to be secure in that process. Even as I write this, there are niggling thoughts in the back of my mind: "Who the hell are you with all of that arrogance? Who are *you* to know the outcome?"
Well, good question. Still figuring that out; I'll get back to ya. But I do know that because this is the perfect house, and that we are *meant* to live there, and all we have to do is walk in and start living, no conversions, no nothing, the kitchen is already painted in the color of our dishes for crying out loud, that despite the little opportunities for tension and tests all along the way, that if we remain true to the knowing, we will be happily ensconced in our new little wildly-expensive house before November brings that wonderful crisp burnt Fall smell I love so much.
The End.
Take, for instance, this process in which we are trying to purchase a house that is currently out of our means.
On my reconnaisance mission I saw but one house. The house was perfect, and I knew, along with my godmother realtor and mother, that this was the perfect house, no more searching was warranted.
When I went to the bank for a prequal letter, our credits were run, and it was officially decided ("official" I say 'cause I could have told them as such) that we have dicey (not the technical term) credit. However, where we may have been left out in the proverbial cold in the past, banks today have all sorts of neat devices whereby one can deeply indebt oneself, no matter the credit sitch.
Also, having a mother on the "inside" doesn't hurt.
And thus, I was informed that a credit "product" could be produced for us, and that said product would get us where we needed to be in terms of offering on this perfect house.
I knew that. I was a little nervous, but for the most part, I knew that.
So, I made an offer, the number I came up with all by my amateur self, of 380K on a house with an asking price of 369,900. I decided to offer 380 because I knew that there had been at least 6 offers on the house already.
Our offer was the highest by 1K.
I knew we would bid highest. Not because I am a real estate pro, or even a well-educated amateur. I just knew, because the house is perfect for us, and it is ours.
Then, there is the home inspection. The seller has already stipulated that he will only pay $500 toward any repairs recommended by the inspector. So, there is some concern about what kinds of problems may be found in a house originally constructed in 1947.
The inspection proves unfruitful, and the majority of items found were minor nitpicky things, so we get to bank the $500 for future home warranty calls.
I knew that would happen. I knew it, because we have *no* spare money to be making major repairs beyond the initial $500 offered, and therefore it is not possible that major repairs will be required.
Then, there is more tension at the bank, because our credit has not improved in the last 4 days, and in fact, upon actually reading the fine print, it has deteriorated further.
But still there is a loan for us.
If..... the appraisal comes out at the offered price.
More opportunity for tension. Appraisals appointments take up to two weeks, I am told. Ours happens within three days, because we are on a tight schedule here, with the 11th of September as the final date to pull escrow. I knew it would. I knew, because this is the perfect house; this is *our* house, and we are meant to live here, my husband, my brother, and myself.
Another opportunity for tension arises when awaiting the verdict. The bank will only loan us 80% of the appraised value, which may or may not be the offering price. If the appraisal comes out much lower, we will not be able to have the house, because we will not be able to front the cash to cover the loan gap.
I just heard by phone from my godmother who first said that the appraisal would come out at the offered price, and then said, "Well, you just never know," that the appraisal came out at the offered rate of $380K.
I knew it would, and I said as such, to which she replied, "Well, you just never know."
But I did know, and have learned through this process the value of continuing to know, and to be secure in that process. Even as I write this, there are niggling thoughts in the back of my mind: "Who the hell are you with all of that arrogance? Who are *you* to know the outcome?"
Well, good question. Still figuring that out; I'll get back to ya. But I do know that because this is the perfect house, and that we are *meant* to live there, and all we have to do is walk in and start living, no conversions, no nothing, the kitchen is already painted in the color of our dishes for crying out loud, that despite the little opportunities for tension and tests all along the way, that if we remain true to the knowing, we will be happily ensconced in our new little wildly-expensive house before November brings that wonderful crisp burnt Fall smell I love so much.
The End.