(1 min read)
There is a moment when clients come to realize that I’m the real thing.
It’s usually on the phone, during our initial consultation to discuss their resume, when something clicks into place for them. They see a glimmer from way offshore.
I’m not sure if it’s my voice, my laugh, my questions, my expertise, but I can feel them shift from guarded to vulnerable, from business to casual, which is when we start to get some real work done.
At this moment, the money they paid, the research they did on me, the referral they followed, all falls away, and we become two people committed to their well-being. It’s special: being allowed to visit someone in their favorite rooms at one of the most pivotal times of their lives, invited to sit for a moment while they talk in front of the fire of the things that make them whole and the pieces that are missing.
Sometimes, I see my business as an elaborate invention of levers and cranks and air vents and dials – a puffing, clanging tower that sits alone on the edge of the world, like a lighthouse, with the sole purpose of calling people in to safety so they can catch their breath, dry their clothes, and remember where they’re headed.