Mountain. Bomb Shelter. Flu. Crash. Sheesh.

Sep 04

Mountain. Bomb Shelter. Flu. Crash. Sheesh.

A client of mine lives on a mountain. Like, a MOUNTAIN mountain. So far up that her cell phone runs on satellite. No Starlink, no signal. I’m pretty sure there are mountain cats up there.

Last month, construction workers knocked the Starlink off her roof.

No internet. No phone. No way to make our call.

So she drove half an hour down the mountain just to get cell service…

Just to reschedule. 🤯

(I would’ve gone back to drinking my Orange Pekoe tea and explained it next time we chatted. But that’s me.)

And in the meantime? She’d already:

  • Booked an appointment with her bank
  • Set up her bookkeeping software
  • Closed an inactive account
  • Launched her ads for her business
  • Finished her budget homework

All before we even talked.

She showed up anyway.

—

BOMB SHELTER

Another client — a couple — lives in a conflict zone.

We had a call scheduled. Ten seconds before we started, he said: “Just got out of the bomb shelter.”

(I’m sorry, WHAT?)

His wife had already rushed downstairs with both kids. He came back, changed a wet diaper — because parenting doesn’t pause for war — and joined the call.

Halfway through, their phones buzzed. A warning. If there’s a siren, it’ll be in two minutes.

Sure enough — sirens. They had to end the call, wake the kids, and get back to the shelter.

And you know what? They apologized for cutting it short.

THEY apologized. TO ME.

They showed up anyway.

—

SICK ALL WEEK

Another client was down with the flu. Dead to the world for days. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday — couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t think. Probably couldn’t find the remote.

Thursday, she showed up for our call.

She knew I was going on vacation. She wanted to get in before I left.

Here’s the thing: this is someone who used to dodge my calls. Early on, she’d reschedule. Push things off. “Something came up.” “Let’s do next week.”

Here’s what I’ve learned about people who dodge calls: It’s never about the calendar.

It’s about not wanting to see what’s there. Not wanting to face the number. Not wanting to confirm the thing they’re afraid might be true.

Avoidance isn’t laziness. It’s protection.

And now? She shows up sick. Voice like gravel. Tissues everywhere. Still there.

She showed up anyway.

—

ACROSS THE OCEAN

Another client got the call no one wants.

Her mother — a senior — had been in a serious car accident. Airbag deployed. Badly bruised. At that age, it’s serious. Her uncle was hurt too.

She had to arrange a flight across the ocean to be with her. Packing. Logistics. Worry. All of it.

But before she left? She reached out. Updated me. Wanted to stay connected to the work.

(I barely answer emails when I’m mildly stressed. This client is flying across the ocean to her injured mother and she’s still thinking about her finances.)

She showed up anyway.

—

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE EXTREME

Okay. Deep breath.

I’m not telling you these stories so you feel like you have to drive down a mountain or leave a bomb shelter to work on your finances.

That’s not the point.

The point is: none of these people started here.

One used to dodge my calls. One kept kicking the can. One wasn’t sure she was ready. One thought, “I’ll get to it eventually” for years.

And here’s the thing nobody tells you about avoidance: it makes sense.

If looking at your finances has only ever made you feel ashamed, why would you look? If every budget you’ve made has fallen apart by week three, why would you make another one? If the last time you “faced it,” you felt worse (not better), why would you face it again?

The avoidance isn’t the problem. It’s the symptom. It’s a rational response to something that’s only ever hurt.

Until something shifts.

They built up. Slowly. One conversation at a time. One small step at a time.

And now? Satellite knocked off the roof. Bomb shelter. Mother in a car accident. Sick all week.

They still show up.

—

WHAT CHANGED?

When something becomes important enough, very few things get in your way.

Not because you’re extreme. Not because you have superhuman discipline.

Because you’ve decided.

These clients didn’t wake up one day ready to drive down mountains. They built it. Brick by brick. Call by call.

And somewhere along the way, they surprised themselves.

That’s the part that gets me.

When you surprise yourself, you’re not becoming a “better” version of you. You’re meeting a version of you that was always there, just buried under years of “I can’t,” “I’m not good with money,” “I’ll never figure this out.”

The discipline didn’t change them. The showing up revealed them.

—

THE THING THEY TAUGHT ME

I’ll be honest, I probably would have canceled on any of those situations.

Starlink down? “See you next week.”
Sick all week? “Rest up, we’ll talk later.”
Mother in a car accident? “Go. Be with your family. This can wait.”

And those would’ve been fine reasons. Totally valid.

But these clients didn’t give themselves an out. They showed up anyway.

And that’s been sitting with me for months.

What would MY life look like if I stopped giving myself outs?

And here’s the harder question underneath that one:

What if the outs aren’t about being busy or tired or overwhelmed?

What if the outs are about not believing that the thing is worth showing up for? Or worse… not believing that YOU’RE worth showing up for?

These clients showed up because somewhere along the way, they decided: this matters. I matter. My financial life is worth my attention, even when it’s hard, even when it’s scary, even when there are sirens going off.

That’s not discipline. That’s belief.

Still working on that one.

—

What about you? What would you show up for — even when you had every reason not to?

—

My clients drive down mountains, leave bomb shelters, and show up sick. Either I’m really good, or they’re avoiding something worse. 😅

Book a free session and find out →

Avraham
Your Financial Coach

About The Author

I'm Avraham — reformed spender, financial coach. I help people take control of their money (without giving up their lattes). Want to talk? Book a free session.
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