The rental-housing situation here in the San Francisco Bay Area is insane. Almost weekly I hear of another friend or colleague having to move so that the landlord can either sell or turn their home into a “vacation rental” via AirBnB or VRBO. I am included in that group of those soon to move.
In addition to looking for a home for myself and my daughter, I have had the opportunity to walk through the process with a very good friend. We’ll call my friend Sandra for the purposes of this blog.
Sandra has lived in San Francisco for all of her adult life. A single parent, she has raised her two sons in the same apartment in the city for the last 12 years. Last fall, Sandra’s landlord renovated the upstairs apartment and began to rent it out on one of those services. They are charging $350 per night and currently have an occupant there on a two-month stay. That’s $10.5K – per month!
Sure enough, Sandra got notice that in 60 days she would have to move. San Francisco has regulations around being able to evict tenants and this notice was likely in violation of that. However, because the landlord had been good to her in the past, she decided not to make an issue of it.
Sandra makes six figures, but with two sons in college, the max available for rent was under $3K for a two bedroom. She soon discovered that not only could she not locate a two bedroom in the city for under $3K, there was not even a decent one bedroom to be found for that amount.
With a job in San Francisco, she set out to find something with a reasonable commute in Oakland or Berkeley. Walking distance to BART, off street parking and a washer/dryer (at least in the building) were the requirements.
She looked every weekend and some weeknights for a month. There was the one bedroom in a scary neighborhood in downtown Oakland with the puke colored carpeting and the laser disks mounted on the walls in the hallway. Lovely. Then there was the nicer apartment in Berkeley with the wavy, thin college-dorm carpeting in the hall and the toxic Verizon tower on the roof. Best of all was probably the apartment near Lake Merritt with brand new paint and carpeting – because the former tenant had committed suicide there!
With about 3 weeks remaining before she had to move, Sandra was beside herself. She had not seen a decent, livable apartment yet that didn’t require moving sideways around the bed for lack of room or paying even more to rent a storage unit for her bikes, skis and surf boards.
On a Monday night, she asked me to go to one last place with her. She had been scheduled to go the day before, but the person holding the open house suddenly had to leave and asked if he could show it to her following day.
The building was in an up-and-coming neighborhood in downtown Oakland. New art galleries and restaurants were popping up monthly. The space was a loft with a view of San Francisco and Mt. Tam (oh, and the freeway). The second she set foot in the door, she exclaimed, “I’ll take it!” It was an impressive space. As we were leaving, it was explained that the choice of tenant would be first come, first served. There were two ahead of her. Whoever had the first good credit check would get the lease.
Sandra left feeling completely dejected. “Why couldn’t we have seen it yesterday with everyone else?!!!” She was done. The search had been exhausting and disheartening. After having seen this loft, everything else would have felt like an enormous, depressing compromise.
I assured her that there was a plan – that she didn’t necessarily know that because she was the third on the list that she wouldn’t get it. I suggested that when she got home, that she visualize herself in the space. “See your friends gathered around the dining room table. Crawl into your bed upstairs in the loft. Note what it feels like. Be there.” And, get on your knees and ask for “This or something better.”
I suggested that, just for the week, she hold a vision of things working out in a way that felt good – in trusting that there was something that she would love out there. Trusting that the Universe had her highest good at heart. What harm could there be in all of that?
Yesterday, Sandra moved into her loft.
So, with this, I remind myself that there is a plan. Maktub. It is written. Things do work out for the highest good. It may not look like we think it will, or should – but it always does. But we must believe that.