Patience Is Still Paramount

Smooth Sailing or Sinking Ship? My Post-Cruise Commission Confession

The sea air has officially left my lungs, and my land legs are (mostly) back in action. I just returned from a highly anticipated, shall we say, luxury boat cruise. And let me tell you, when you're in the sales game, especially in your late 70s like yours truly, every experience is a potential lead, a story, a connection. This trip, however, left me with a very specific kind of takeaway.

Let's set the scene: the cruise itself was magnificent. Think polished brass, endless horizons, and dining experiences that redefined "fine." It was the kind of trip you dream about, the kind you save for, and, ideally, the kind that inspires grand tales of adventure and, perhaps, lucrative future endeavors.

Now, you might be thinking, "A grand cruise, an experienced sales lady like you, [Your Name/Company Name, if applicable] – surely you were networking up a storm, reeling in those big fish, right?" And yes, I was working the room. I was sharing stories, making connections, and subtly, as one does, feeling out potential opportunities. After all, a saleswoman never truly retires, she just changes her "office."

Here's where the tides turned a bit choppy. This particular cruise was, to put it mildly, exorbitantly expensive. And while that often means a certain caliber of clientele, it also meant that the commission structure for any potential sales stemming from this trip was… well, let's just say it was less a gleaming treasure chest and more a single, slightly tarnished coin.

I've worked in sales for decades, through booming markets and lean times. I've seen it all, and I've learned to be patient. But working in an environment that often felt "impossibly impatient" – both in terms of the fast-paced, high-pressure nature of the luxury market itself, and perhaps some of the fleeting attention spans on board – made this particular sales expedition a unique challenge.

It wasn't for lack of trying. I struck up conversations with fascinating people, shared genuine connections, and even managed to plant a few seeds for future discussions. But the reality is, when the product is sky-high in price and the commission is ground-level, the math just doesn't add up for a truly fulfilling financial return. It felt like trying to catch mist in a net – beautiful to witness, but not much to show for it at the end of the day.

So, what's the takeaway from this very expensive, very beautiful, and surprisingly un-commissionable journey?

1. Not every experience is a direct sales funnel. Sometimes, a rich experience is just that: rich in life lessons, rich in beauty, and rich in reminding you what truly matters beyond the bottom line.
2. Know your value, always. Even when the numbers don't seem to reflect it, remember the decades of experience, the charm, the genuine connection you bring to the table. That's invaluable, regardless of the commission sheet.
3. Patience is still paramount. Even in an "impossibly impatient" world, the long game often wins. Those seeds I planted? They might still sprout, just not in the immediate, high-commission way I might have once hoped.

Did I come back with a suitcase full of signed contracts? No. Did I come back with a tan, some incredible memories, and a renewed appreciation for the nuanced art of sales, even when the deck seems stacked against you? Absolutely. And sometimes, especially when you're in your late 70s and still navigating the waves of life and business, that's a pretty good haul indeed.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I hear the coffee calling, and perhaps a more grounded, commission-friendly opportunity awaiting on solid ground here in Cleveland.