Today’s new vocabulary word is solipsism. In philosophy, solipsism is the view that the self is all that can be known to exist. As a noun, it is defined as the quality of being self-centered. In business, as in life, when we are dealing with people, it is essential, and even consequential, that we see others as real, not just ourselves. Lest you detect some level of derision in my writing tone, you would be exactly on point.

When buying or selling a home, there are myriad emotions that can be experienced during the process. Where we land is a pretty big deal. These decisions are often life-altering for all parties, both buyers and sellers. Many times, the move is precipitated by an event that is also life-altering; whether it is marriage, divorce, a new child, loss of a spouse, a job change or even retirement that triggers the move, it is all significant. It is also all kinds of stressful. It is at this time, especially, that we all remember that other people are real.

A few days ago, I received a call from a buyer’s agent concerning an inspection found on one of my listings we have under contract. He wanted to know if they could send one more contractor out to evaluate the condition of the sewer line. I told him it was no problem; we just needed to know what time they would be there. He told me that he could be there between 4 and 5 p.m. I confirmed with my client and we were set to go.

Fast forward to 4:30 p.m. that same day. I received a text that the contractor was running late and it would be closer to between 5 and 6 p.m. I confirmed, once again, with my client. At 7 p.m. that same evening, my client texted, “Hey Jen, are they still coming? Nobody has been here yet and I need to get my baby to sleep.” As a side note, she had just had a baby less than a month before, so both the baby as well as the rest of the family were in a slightly vulnerable time. I texted the agent.

“Well, he will be there. I had to leave for another appointment but hopefully your clients will be OK to just let him in and do the scope.” I informed him that I would check with them, but it was really getting too late and we should reschedule, especially if he couldn’t be there himself.

When I texted my clients, they didn’t respond. I had assumed that the guy was a no-show until I got a frantic call from my client at 8:45 p.m. “You have to get this guy out of here!” She went on to tell me that the “contractor” didn’t get there until 7:30, proceeded to invite himself in and take a seat on the couch to ‘wait for the buyers.’ Once they showed up, with their entire extended family, the “contractor” did the scope, reported his findings with everyone and then began to negotiate how both parties should attack the cost of the repair. At this point, the baby was screaming, my client was sobbing and the buyers continued talking with the technician (NOT a contractor) in the living room at an elevated level so they could hear themselves above the baby crying. After asking them to leave, she had locked herself in the closet to call me.

“They are still on my front lawn. They just need to go,” she cried. I agreed. As I was getting my shoes on to run over there myself, I called the buyer’s agent.

“These are real people,” I said. “They have real lives and real children and real emotions. It is far too late for this to be happening. Come get them, or I will.” I then proceeded to explain to him all that had happened while reminding him that we need to always accompany our clients when they visit a prospective home for this very reason.

He was mortified and then explained how difficult and stressful this has been for his clients. I quoted a line from Charlotte Bronte’s classic tale, Jane Eyre, “Well, friend, ‘Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigor.'” It is during the most stressful and difficult times that we must remember that other people are real as well. Let’s not be solipsistic.

Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or jen@jen-fischer.com.