Nine months later, the Client sent an email to the Coach.

He hit Send.

Leaning back in his new desk chair, the Client smiled to himself. He looked out the office window and noticed it was starting to rain. Outside his second-floor office he could see a few shingles getting pelted with raindrops. He heard the sound of the coming storm, punched up with a single roll of thunder.

His life was not tidy. But nevertheless, he was smiling.

His wife's business was thriving. The bills were paid. Most importantly, his girls were doing really well in school. The lingering effects of the pandemic year were becoming less and less evident for his kids.

The Client was grateful.

Then his computer beeped. A new email.

He leaned forward in his chair to read it.

His largest client, the one that was buying a major new distributor, the one that had a big commission check for him, was apologizing.

They decided to back out of the purchase deal. Effective immediately. His services were no longer required. The contract was cancelled. He would be paid a pro-rated fee, through the end of the month. Which was three days from now.

That deal was his biggest source of revenue. In an instant, his wages were cut by two-thirds.

His oxygen was cut off.

His heart started racing. He was breathing through his nose, like a bull about to run. He cursed in a harsh whisper.

He wished he could retract the email he just sent to the Coach.

Just then, his wife tapped on the office door. She peeked inside. “Hi. How's it going?” she asked, stepping into his office.

He didn't turn around. He stared at the screen.

“Hey,” she said, noticing he was frozen in place. “Is everything okay?”

He turned to her. “Well, I just got some really bad news.”

He explained the situation. His biggest client had just pulled the plug. He had to find some new business. He hadn't planned on this happening. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He pushed back his chair. Stood up. Turned to face his wife.

She hugged him. He felt the familiar embrace. His breathing settled down and he hugged her back. Held her, as she was holding him. Amidst his thoughts, which were racing, he slowed down. He found a speed where his situation was not his identity. His big client wasn't the only way to make money, he realized. He was still resourceful, still capable, still a guy with a game to play. And he was not alone.

“Oh! I'm so sorry,” she said. “How do you feel?”

He looked at her. Kissed her. Pulled back and smiled at her. He felt her hands in the small of his back.

“This might sound strange, on a Tuesday morning,” he said. “But I feel like it's a lazy Sunday afternoon.”