Imagine, for a moment, that you’re standing on the precipice of greatness in the mobile home park industry. You’ve done it! You’ve secured financing, filled those lots, even fought the city tooth and nail on zoning laws. You’ve slogged through it all, and yet, after all the toil, the universe looks down at you and mutters, “Who?”
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “But Jason, people must care! After all, I’ve poured my soul into this industry!” Yes, my friend, and I’m here to tell you: Nobody. Gives. A Damn. And I say this not to diminish you, but to liberate you, because the sooner you embrace the brutal truth, the sooner you’ll feel lighter than a tax break in a loophole.
You see, there exists this collective delusion—that our deeds, especially in the niche, underappreciated world of affordable housing, somehow warrant admiration, applause, maybe even a standing ovation from an invisible audience that, spoiler alert, isn’t watching. We’re all little specks in the grand scheme, thrashing about, hoping that if we fill enough spaces, raise enough rents (within legal bounds, mind you), we’ll make some profound dent in the cosmos. But the universe has bills, too, and trust me, it’s not paying yours any mind.
The greats—the Zuckerbergs, the Buffets, even the Frank Rolfes of the world—they’ve reached heights most of us only dream of. But if you believe the world spends its waking hours marveling at their achievements, think again. People don’t care about the billions or the tech monopolies. They’re too busy wondering if their car will last another month without that mysterious clunk turning into a crisis.
So, why do we pretend our lives hinge on the opinions of others?
It’s an intoxicating myth, isn’t it? This idea that if you buy one more park or close one more deal, some cosmic scoreboard will reflect your worth. But humility, the great liberator, beckons you to see the truth: nobody’s keeping score. They’re not watching because they’re drowning in their own dilemmas. And that, my friend, is why realizing this is the closest thing to enlightenment you’ll find in affordable housing.
“Ah, but surely, Jason, my investors care!” To that, I say—perhaps a little. But only to the extent that it serves them. In the grand arena of human affairs, everyone is playing a bit part in their own play, too preoccupied with their own narrative to give your Act II the standing ovation you’re hoping for.
So, what does this mean for you, a brave soul in affordable housing, seeking to leave a mark? It means you should quit wasting precious energy seeking validation and focus instead on building a business, a life, that genuinely resonates with you. Yes, there are metrics—cash flow, NOI, cap rates—but they’re tools, not virtues. The world won’t weep if you fail, nor will it crown you if you succeed. It simply doesn’t care. And that’s your golden ticket to freedom.
The moment you internalize that the world doesn’t give a damn, that’s the moment you can live authentically. You’re now free to make decisions that align with your values and your purpose, not because they’ll bring applause, but because they’ll bring you closer to something resembling peace.
So, as you survey your empire of affordable housing, remember that the weight of expectation is as fictional as the idea that the universe knows your name. Let it go, my friend. It’s your life, not your legacy, that deserves your dedication. And when you let go of the world’s invisible gaze, you may just find that the victory was never in their approval—it was in the sheer joy of doing it for you.
