Maybe drop your phone and talk?

Growing up as a child, conversations came naturally. We didn’t even call them conversations, we were simply talking, laughing, playing, and just being children.

After school, you would rush out to the streets where your friends were waiting. Together, you ran from street to street, playing games, telling stories, or making up songs. The only reason you remembered to return home was because it was getting dark, or your stomach reminded you that you hadn’t eaten, or maybe because a fight broke out among friends. But the conversations, the bonds, the presence, they flowed effortlessly.

As teenagers, it wasn’t much different. Visiting a friend’s house was an event in itself. You could sit for hours, dropping gist after gist, giggling over inside jokes, sharing the latest things that happened in school, or even exchanging secrets you thought the world could never handle. Social media existed, but it wasn’t the giant it is today. Our voices, laughter, and presence filled the air; our attention was on each other, not a screen.

Fast forward to today, and the picture has changed. I was at a restaurant recently where a group of friends came to ‘hang out.’ But instead of catching up, each person was buried in their phone. No shared jokes, no storytelling, barely even eye contact. They were physically together, but their minds were scattered in different corners of the digital world. And I couldn’t help but ask myself: Why come out to meet in person if the phone still takes center stage? Wouldn’t it have been better to just stay home?

Don’t get me wrong, there’s beauty in the online connections we build. Many of us live far apart from our closest friends, and social media, chats, and video calls bridge that distance. Those moments can be just as refreshing, sometimes even lifesaving.

But what I am talking about here is the sacredness of being physically present with someone sitting across the table, hearing tone, watching expressions, and sharing space. Those moments are meant for presence, not distraction. Yet too often, the glow of a screen steals the warmth of connection.

Many people today can hardly hold a ten-minute conversation without glancing at their phones. We’ve become so accustomed to consuming other people’s lives that we forget to share our own. Instead of drawing from our own thoughts, feelings, and reflections, we recycle whatever is trending online.

Deep conversations require intention, presence, and the courage to go beyond the surface but sadly, those qualities are slowly fading.

Still, all hope isn’t lost. The art of deep conversation can be revived if only we choose it. It starts with small things: putting the phone down during dinner, asking genuine questions, listening to understand rather than to reply. It’s about being curious again, being present again, and allowing silence when words run out. Because in those moments of undistracted presence, true connection is found.

What do you think? Have deep conversations been replaced by endless scrolling, or do you still find moments of true connection in your life? Share your thoughts in the comments, I’d love to hear from you.