Walk One Stone at a Time

Hey cuz,

After years of walking people through house hunting here, I started noticing something.

Same city. Same listings. Same agents.
But very different emotional endings.

Some people arrive already tense. Shoulders up. Eyes scanning.
They leave with a place, yes. But also with exhaustion, doubt, and a quiet did I rush this..?

Others arrive unsure, even a little lost.
They leave calm. Not euphoric. Just settled. Like their body already knew it would work out.

The difference wasn’t budget.
It wasn’t timing.
Wasn’t luck either.

It was posture.

In Korea, housing decisions tend to arrive before certainty does.
The system moves fast, and clarity often shows up after commitment.

The people who landed well moved as if they had all the time in the world, even when they didn’t.
They didn’t cling to the first “almost right” place.
They didn’t try to make every viewing mean something.

They walked slower inside a fast system.
And somehow, the system softened around them.

This letter is about that posture.
Not tricks. Not tactics.
Just how to carry yourself through the search, especially when things start feeling urgent, and money is about to move.

Come sit, cuz.
We’ve got time.

The rarest thing in this market

There’s a reason I almost always suggest a temporary roof as the first step.

It gives you something most people don’t have when they start.

Time.
Or at least the feeling of it.

When you already have a key in your pocket, a bed to sleep in, and some stretch in your timeline, your body relaxes before your brain does.

You stop searching with your survival system.

You’re no longer thinking, I need this to work..
You start thinking, Let’s see what’s out there.

An extendable basecamp isn’t a downgrade.
It’s a pressure valve.

It manufactures time inside a system that moves fast and speaks loudly.
And once time exists, your posture changes.

You don’t rush to make meaning out of the first decent place.
You don’t negotiate from fear.
You don’t turn “available” into “meant to be.”

You’re just.. standing on solid ground.

That’s where a real superpower in the housing game is born: non-neediness.

A quick detour: why many people burn out here

I’ve also noticed something else over the years.

The people who struggled most weren’t careless.
They were careful--sometimes too careful.

They treated online listings like Yelp reviews for choosing a birthday dinner.
Comparing. Scoring. Analyzing.
Trying to control fear with more information.

They searched hard for “best value for the budget.”
They believed enough data would produce certainty.
They held a very specific picture of the right home.

That response is natural.
It’s how most of us were taught to make decisions.

But in Korea, that posture is expensive.

The market here is fast, dense, and fairly efficient.
Most obvious value is already priced in.
Listings are partial truths.
Photos lie. Context hides. Timing compresses.

So the harder someone tried to optimize, the more tired and heartbroken they became.

Because they were using the wrong tool for this terrain.

That’s why posture ends up mattering more than cleverness here.

Then, start with no

Once time exists, clarity follows.

And in this market, clarity starts with no.

Most people begin a search by telling agents what they want.
Location. Budget. Size. Light. Vibes.

It sounds productive, but in practice it’s fuzzy.

What works better (much better) is saying what won’t work.

No semi-basement unit.
No rooftop unit.
No heavy mortgage balance on the building.
No old, aluminum or wooden window frame.
No further than this street.

This isn’t being difficult.
It’s being legible.

You’re giving the system something real to work with.

A clean no saves ten maybes.

Agents move faster.
Listings get sharper.
Time stops leaking.

And here’s the part most people miss:

you also want to invite no from the other side.

Ask questions that allow rejection early.

“Is the landlord flexible on move-out timing?”
“Is there any hesitation about a foreign tenant here?”
“Would this place still work if part of the deposit were traded for rent?”

When someone says no to you early, that’s not a loss.

That’s protection for both sides.

You didn’t spend emotional energy decorating a future that was never available.
And the other side didn’t lose time on a poor fit.

This exchange of no’s creates neutral ground.

No pretending.
Just checking fit.

That’s where non-neediness quietly becomes a superpower.

You don't collapse everything into one door any more.

Finally, walk the stones

From here, the search stops feeling like a test and starts feeling like a walk.

The people who did best weren’t trying to outsmart the system.
They did something much quieter.

They reminded me of those robot cleaners.. kk

At first glance, they can look a little empty (you know).
They don’t plan the fastest route.
They don’t cut clever shortcuts.
They don’t try to understand the whole room at once.

They just run the same simple loop.
Show up. Look honestly. Say no when it’s not right. Move on.

Slowly. Repeatedly. Without drama.

And somehow, they always get there.

It takes time, yes.
But the emotional cost stays low.

Each viewing was just one pass of the room.
Not a failure.

And each stone does more than move you forward.

One viewing opens a street you didn’t know existed.
Another quietly drops a feature you thought you needed.
A different one makes something non-negotiable.

Sometimes it’s not the place that changes things.
It’s the conversation that follows.

An agent mentions another block.
A landlord explains a condition.
Your budget tightens or relaxes based on how it actually feels in your body.

Priorities sharpen by walking, not by imagining.

That’s why people who land well don’t try to decide early.
They let the stones teach them.

Each step updated the map.
Each pass cleaned the picture a little more.

So when they finally stand in front of a place where nothing inside them is pushing, they don’t feel like they’re guessing.

They just know it’s time to stop and settle.

If you’ve been moving like this all along, commitment doesn’t feel dramatic.
It feels.. boring, in the best way.

Solid. Grounded. Quiet.

That’s how you avoid regret in Korea’s housing maze.

Not by knowing everything.
But by standing well.
Saying no early.
And walking one stone at a time.

We’ll keep walking, cuz.

--JK