Rebel Talk: Hang(er) Tight

I’ve learned something powerful lately: sometimes, the best move you can make is no move at all. Just… hang tight.

You see, when I bought my airplane, I rented a hangar at my local airport — a high-demand field where hangars are scarce and competition is fierce. Around there, hangars are more than storage; they’re real estate gold. People buy them, rent them for a while, then flip them or merge them into massive spaces for private jets. It’s a money game, and I’ve been caught right in the middle of it.

For a while, I had this fear gnawing at me. I’ve got this plane — something I’ve dreamed of my whole life — but what happens if I lose my hangar? Without a place to store it, I’d be forced to move it to another airport far away. It wasn’t just inconvenient; it felt like losing part of my dream’s foundation.

So when my lease came due and my landlord jacked up the rent, I felt that fear creeping in again. It’s a familiar feeling for anyone who’s ever built something — whether it’s a business, a career, or a life they’re proud of. You finally get somewhere, and suddenly, the ground shifts under your feet.

The lease renewal was sitting in my inbox, waiting for me to sign and send the check. I hadn’t gotten to it yet. Call it procrastination… or call it patience.
Because out of nowhere — and I mean nowhere — I get a call. A guy saw a post I made over a year ago about wanting to buy a hangar. He tells me one’s for sale. We meet the next morning. I walk into that space, and before I know it, the deal’s done. I now own a hangar — my own hangar. Permanent. Secure. Mine. (Than hanger in the picture isn't mine - but it's on my vision board for what it will look like)

I don’t have to worry anymore about where my plane goes, who controls the space, or what next year’s rent will be. I’ve got a place to call home for my airplane — a space I can heat, work in, and make my own.

And here’s the thing: that wouldn’t have happened if I’d rushed. If I’d signed that lease right away, I’d be locked in. But patience — hanging tight — paid off.

The Waiting Game

No one likes it. We all want everything now.

Life has this way of testing us. It puts opportunity and frustration on the same timeline, and it’s up to us to recognize which is which. Most people can’t stand the waiting — they want the deal done, the dream achieved, the result now. But if you’ve lived long enough, you know that nothing good in life comes fast or easy.

That’s something I’ve learned through twenty years in business and real estate. I’ve seen deals fall apart only to come back stronger. I’ve watched opportunities take years to mature. I’ve had to wait, grind, and stay the course when everyone else was sprinting ahead, burning out, and wondering why their results never stuck.

Patience isn’t idle. It’s preparation. It’s knowing that what’s meant for you will arrive when you’re ready — not when you’re desperate.

In a world that glorifies hustle, we forget that holding steady is its own form of strength. “Hang tight” isn’t about sitting still — it’s about holding your line when everything around you says to panic, rush, or settle.

Think about your own life. Maybe you’re waiting for a business opportunity to click, a relationship to fall into place, or a breakthrough that feels long overdue. Maybe you’ve been grinding in silence for years, wondering when your moment comes.
It’s coming. But you’ve got to hang tight.

Because if I’ve learned anything — from real estate deals that took years to close, to a dream of flying that took decades to realize — it’s that timing is everything. You can’t rush the right moment. You can’t force fate’s hand. You can only stay ready, stay disciplined, and stay patient.

The irony of flying is that patience is built into the process. You wait for weather, for clearance, for the right wind. You can’t just push the throttle and hope for the best — not if you plan to land safely.

Life’s the same way.
If you’re always forcing forward without reading the conditions, you’ll miss the signal that says your runway’s ready.

So hang tight. The opportunity you’ve been waiting for might already be lining up on final approach. You just have to be calm enough — patient enough — to see it.

That day I signed the hangar deal felt surreal. Not because it was luck, but because it was alignment. Everything that had tested my patience up to that point — every deal I had to wait on, every dream that took longer than I thought — brought me to that exact moment.

And that’s the reminder I want to give you today:
Don’t rush what’s meant for you.
Don’t sign the lease too early.
Don’t panic when the wait feels unbearable.

Because sometimes, what looks like a delay is really just destiny preparing your runway.

So whatever you’re waiting for — hang tight.

Your turn is coming.

Stay Relentless,

Ryan