Good to the Core

I was in Honolulu to speak at a large national conference. I scheduled an
  extra day onto the trip since I had never been to Honolulu and because a
  few great friends were also at the conference. The day after the
  conference, we awoke at the crack of dawn to visit Pearl Harbor. As we
  stood above and looked down upon the sunken USS Arizona, the depth of our
  experience came to life. It was moving and humbling.

  Upon our return to the hotel, I had some time to spare before departing to
  the airport. A couple of my friends and I decided to rent a raft large
  enough to hold three adults. We targeted the white-capped waves, out in
  the distance, as our destination. With the incoming waves, we had a hard
  time getting away from the shore. At first, there seemed to be enormous
  momentum keeping us "grounded." Slowly, but surely, we began to make
  progress. It seemed to get easier. We eventually got within a few feet of
  the whitecaps and decided to board our raft and relax as a celebration of
  our efforts. It was in our moment of pause that we felt the reality of our
  situation. Drifting two feet out and one foot in. Again, two feet out and
  one foot in. We all felt the unsettling formula of our ever-so-gentle
  drift out to sea. We immediately abandoned the raft and grasped for
  safety, with one arm holding the raft and the other arm aggressively
  swimming. I have never scissor-kicked so hard in my life.

  Twenty minutes later we had made minimal progress. Out of nowhere, a
  Lifeguard on a kayak appeared on the scene asking why we were so far out.
  Feeling the comfort of his presence, we laughed for a moment, lightly
  commenting about our distance from the shore. He wasn't laughing.

  The orange balls had warned us, and we unknowingly ignored them.
  Infrequently placed across the ocean's surface, they created an invisible
  line on the ocean's floor. They silently warned us not to drift beyond
  them regardless of our vision or mission. "You see those big orange balls
  on top of the water?"

  the lifeguard inquired. We could see them, but they didn't look very big
  from where we were still struggling in the water. They did, however, give
  us the insight that we were basically five times farther out than we
  should be. I think the lifeguard was trying to teach us a lesson. He
  didn't leave us, but he didn't assist us either. Forty-five minutes later
  we walked up on the shore. I was shaking from exhaustion. I began, for the
  first time, to feel the  numerous cuts on my legs and feet from the sharp
  coral rocks lining the ocean floor.

  We had briefly noticed the orange balls on our way out. We had paid little
  attention to them and certainly had not given any thought to their
  significance. We had been too focused on our mission to get to the white-
  capped waves in the distance!

  We don't go running away from our values. We go drifting away, and one day
  wake-up in a place we never meant to be, drifting in a direction we would
  have never chosen.