Two Conversations

I had just finished giving the Meet the Moment keynote. During the presentation, I shared a couple of stories about lessons I have learned through international travel.

As I was packing up my things, a gentleman walked over and said, "It sounds like from your stories that you travel quite a bit internationally."

"I do," I replied.

He looked at me and firmly said, "Well...I like my house."

I smiled and said, "Oh, that's great."

Then he added, "And I really like my city."

At this point, I wasn't at all sure where the conversation was headed, but I wanted to affirm him, so I responded, "I think it's important to like the place where you live."

He nodded and said, "I like my life!"

Now I was genuinely confused.

"I...like...my life too," I replied.

He looked at me with a puzzled expression and asked, "Then why do you keep traveling to escape your life?"

Stunned, I replied, "Oh, I don't travel to escape my life," I said. "I travel to expand my life."

Have you ever watched someone's head turn into the mind-blown emoji in real time? That is exactly what happened.

For more than fifty years, travel had represented one thing to him: escape. For me, it represented something entirely different: expansion.

That moment reminded me how easy it is for two people to be engaged in the same conversation while having two completely different conversations. He was talking about escaping your life while I was talking about expanding it.

I think this happens far more often than we realize. We don't just hear the words people are using; we also hear the meaning we've attached to those words.

When he heard the word travel, his mind connected it with getting away from life. Maybe travel had always represented a break from responsibility, work, or the routines of everyday living.

When I hear the word travel, my mind goes somewhere completely different. I think about curiosity, learning from different cultures, seeing the world through someone else's eyes, and returning home with a perspective I didn't have before.

I see this in leadership all the time. A leader says, "We're changing direction," because they see an opportunity for growth. But the team hears, "The way we've always done it isn't good enough."

A parent says, "I just want what's best for you." But the child hears, "Who you are isn't enough."

A coach says, "I know you're capable of more." But the athlete hears, "You are disappointing me."

The words aren't usually the problem. The stories attached to the words often are.

Leadership requires us to recognize that communication has two parts: what is said and what is heard. We control the first and we become curious about the second.

That realization changes how we lead. Instead of assuming someone is resistant, we become curious. Instead of defending our position, we ask another question. Instead of trying to win the conversation, we become genuinely interested in understanding the other person.

Looking back, I don't think that man was asking me about travel. He was asking me why someone who loves their life would ever leave it.

And maybe that's the real process leaders should engage in more often—not "What did they say?" but "What are they really asking?"

Because underneath almost every disagreement is another conversation waiting to be had.