We were swimming in the sea off the coast of Croatia, wading out towards a sandbank that shimmered in the distance. The water was calm and no deeper than waist height, the sun beating down and everyone enjoying the moment, until my daughter stopped suddenly. She looked ahead and then back at us before announcing she didn’t want to go any further. In her mind it was now too far and too dangerous.
No matter how many ways we tried to explain that the water wouldn’t get any deeper she was no longer hearing reassurance. Her thoughts had set in: this is not safe. In that moment, no amount of facts would change her experience.
That small moment was a vivid example of how our perception becomes our reality. Even when what we believe doesn’t match the facts, it still feels true and we behave accordingly.
But here’s the thing. Our thoughts can also get us moving. Two days later, that same daughter stood at the edge of a cliff ledge, around eight metres above the sea… and jumped. No one pushed or coaxed her, it was a decision she made, fuelled by a new story in her mind. She’d seen others do it safely. She felt ready. She chose to trust the thrill over the fear. Same person, different moment, different thoughts, and a completely different outcome.
As a coach, I see this kind of shift all the time. Clients bring me challenges that, on the surface, seem concrete. They’ll say “This will never work” or “I’ve failed at this before” or “There’s nothing I can do”. Those thoughts feel utterly convincing. But when we pause and examine them, we often discover they’re not rooted in certainty. They’re rooted in fear, habit or a narrow viewpoint.
The quote “Don’t believe everything you think” by Allan Lokos speaks directly to this. Our minds are brilliant at generating thoughts, but not all of them are useful or accurate. When we mistake every thought for truth, we limit ourselves, whether that’s in the sea, at work or in life more broadly.
I’ve learned to catch myself too. It’s easy to hold tight to the belief that my version of a situation is the right one. But in truth, it’s just my version shaped by my past, my outlook and my current state of mind. That doesn’t make it wrong, but it certainly doesn’t make it the only valid perspective.
In coaching conversations, one of the most powerful shifts often comes from asking a simple question: “What else could be true here?” It doesn’t mean dismissing your feelings or denying your experience. It just opens the door to fresh thinking. When we’re open to that we start to spot options and opportunities we’d otherwise miss.
This mindset is just as relevant on the rugby pitch, where I coach youth teams. One player might believe they’ve failed because they missed a tackle. Another might be certain the coach is disappointed in them. Often, these thoughts aren’t voiced – they’re carried silently, affecting confidence and performance. Helping young players explore different ways of seeing the same situation is part of the learning process. It’s not about pretending everything’s fine, but about understanding that our thoughts are only one version of events.
So, what’s the takeaway? Start noticing your thoughts, especially the ones that shut things down. When you hear yourself saying “I can’t”, “That’s not possible” or “They must think…”, pause. Ask: Is that really true? Could there be another way to see this?
You don’t have to believe every thought that shows up. You can hold them lightly, explore them and decide what serves you best. That simple habit can be the difference between staying stuck and moving forward, whether you’re facing a work dilemma, coaching a team or standing at the edge of a cliff, wondering whether you dare to jump.
Patrick Hickman 