Conversations
Some conversations recall the past. Some imagine the future. But there’s a third kind that lives entirely in thought—and that kind has changed my life.
We talk all day long.
We ask how someone’s weekend went. We catch up about trips, sports, gossip, concerts. We tell stories—stories from the past, shared with a laugh or a wince. Nostalgia, hurt, joy, memory.
These conversations are about what’s already happened. And they serve a purpose: to connect. To be seen. To remember.
Then there are future-looking conversations. Where are you headed next? What are your plans? Excitement, uncertainty, possibility, anxiety. These conversations forecast. We use them to imagine, to prepare, to dream.
But lately, I’ve become aware of a third kind of conversation—one that doesn’t focus on the past or anticipate the future.
It simply lives in the now.
A still moment of thought, curiosity, and meaning-making.
This third type of conversation doesn’t require a story or a plan. It doesn’t even need a beginning or end. It usually starts with something like, “I’ve been thinking about this lately…” or “Have you ever noticed…” or “I wonder if…”
It’s not about lived experience.
It’s not about what's next.
It's about what is—or what might be, if only we allow ourselves to go there.
And this kind of conversation, I’ve realized, is what draws people in.
Not because I’ve lived through something extraordinary. But because I’m giving voice to a thought they’ve never fully formed yet somehow always felt. These thoughts aren't always logical. They’re contemplative. Curious. They synthesize and connect things we don’t usually link together. They’re ideas that don’t belong to the past or the future.
They belong to the creative present.
I’ve noticed that people gravitate toward these types of conversations. Not just because they’re “deep”—but because they’re rare.
They remind us that we’re not just story-keepers of what’s happened… and not just project managers of what’s coming next.
We’re meaning-makers.
And I think that’s uniquely human.
AI can help us plan the future with incredible efficiency. It can map out to-do lists, synthesize complex strategies, even help us process the past through language and reflection.
But what makes us human is something else.
We have the capacity to do something remarkable:
To reflect on our experiences.
To absorb new ideas.
To abstract those ideas into something entirely new.
The neocortex—the newest part of our brain—wasn’t just built for logic or language. It was built for creativity. Synthesis. Imagination.
And this third kind of conversation?
It comes straight from there.
From the fusion of our lived experience and our learned knowledge. From the intersection of emotion and intellect. From the subtle art of observing the world and letting it collide with what we already know.
In those moments, when we say something like:
“What if love is really about timing?”
or
“Maybe grief is proof that something mattered deeply.”
—we’re not just talking.
We’re creating.
And we’re inviting others into that creation.
Since I started reading more, learning more, reflecting more… these third conversations have started flowing out of me more naturally. They’ve brought me closer to people, faster. And the beauty is, you don’t need a dramatic backstory or a five-year plan to have one.
You just need presence. Curiosity. And a willingness to connect through thought, not just experience.
If the past holds our stories…
And the future holds our hopes…
Then maybe the present—the real present—holds our ideas.
And that’s where we get to be fully alive.