Originally published in The Newnan Times-Herald, read here.
Questions are like buoys. By their nature, they float. They sit at the surface, waiting for an answer.
The water, however, is where the answer lives. Sometimes shallow. Sometimes deeper. Sometimes far below where we are uncomfortable exploring.
Most conversations never leave shallow water.
“How are you?”
“Crazy weather we’re having.”
“How about that game last night?”
“What do you do for a living?”
We all know the routine. We all have the shallow answers.
“Everything’s great.”
“It sure is.”
“That was a great game.”
“Work to pay my bills.”
There are no monsters in the shallow water. If something becomes uncomfortable, dry land is only a step away.
But the deep water … That’s a different place.
It’s where the meaningful answers live. It’s also where risk lives. Vulnerability. Fear. Truth. The kinds of things we work very hard to avoid.
The deep water is where we believe the monsters are.
But it is also where the value is.
Ships were not built to stay behind the breakwaters’ safety. They were made to leave the harbor, to move beyond the horizon and explore. Journeys of discovery.
Conversations work the same way.
Recently, I had one that started in very familiar water.
“Good morning, Scott. Did you have a good weekend?”
“100 percent. Great weekend. You?”
“Yeah, me too. I did a whole bunch of nothing. Livin’ the dream.”
I paused for a moment to think about that phrase I hear from time to time. Livin’ the dream.
Softening my tone, I asked, “Can I ask what you mean by livin’ the dream?”
His expression changed. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just curious,” I said. “When someone says livin’ the dream, I start wondering what the dream actually is. What big, scary goal or dream are you chasing?”
There was a long silence.
Then I asked one more question.
“What do you think would change if you really were living your dream?”
He smiled, turned and walked away. “Who knows,” he said. “I’ll have to think about that.” It was unintended, but I hit a nerve. I still wonder why he ran from that conversation.
Most of us could tell a thousand versions of conversations like that. Small talk that circles the surface and never really says anything.
But the real challenge isn’t avoiding shallow conversations with others. The real challenge is the conversation we cannot avoid. The one we have with ourselves.
We can dodge it. Ignore it. Cover it with noise. Tell ourselves comfortable stories. Even lie to ourselves. But eventually the questions surface again, waiting for an honest answer.
Those are the conversations that matter.
They are the ones where we unpack truths we have been avoiding. The ones we admit what we already know.
When we do that, something interesting happens. The truth stops being heavy. It becomes freeing. But that feeling does not last long unless we act.
For me, one of those moments came when I finally stopped ignoring a desire that had followed me for more than 20 years. I wanted to write a book. For years, I told myself I was too busy, that the timing wasn’t right, that maybe someday would be better. Then someday came.
Eventually, I realized I was simply staying in shallow water. So, I wrote the book, and now I am free.
My question for you is simple. What truth in your life have you been avoiding for a long time? Are you willing to face just one of them? Are you willing to finally do something?
Because the most meaningful conversations in life don’t happen in shallow water.
The most important one is the conversation we have with ourselves, the truth we admit, and the actions we take. What a story you will tell if you’re willing to leave the safety of the harbor and venture into the deep water. And I, for one, would love to hear your tale.
Until next time, I’ll leave you with that.
