We’re looking forward to introducing you to Zach Ransom. Check out our conversation below.
Good morning Zach, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What do you think others are secretly struggling with—but never say?
There are certain struggles most people carry quietly, tucked away beneath the polished surface of their lives. What fascinates me is not just the struggles themselves, but the silence that surrounds them; the way so many of us live as though our pain is a private failure, when in reality it’s nearly universal.
One of my greatest internal struggles is the fear of not being enough. Few people admit it openly, but nearly everyone knows the quiet ache of self doubt. It might take the shape of wondering if we’re smart enough at work, attractive enough in love, or simply worthy enough to be happy. Outwardly, we work hard to seem confident and capable, but beneath it there’s often a fragile voice asking questions we can’t seem to silence.
Loneliness is another of these hidden burdens. It doesn’t discriminate; it can creep into crowded rooms, long marriages, or busy social calendars. The paradox is that the lonelier someone feels, the harder it becomes to confess. To admit loneliness carries with it a fear of seeming ungrateful or broken, so instead people smile, perform, and carry the emptiness quietly.
There’s also the unspoken uncertainty about life’s direction. No matter how carefully someone builds their career, family, or identity, many lie awake at night wondering if they’re on the right path, or if the right path even exists. It’s easier to act as though we’re sure, to keep up the appearance of having it all figured out, but beneath that mask lives a deep questioning. What if I’ve missed something? Did I make the right decision?
And then there’s shame, the most isolating weight of all. Past mistakes, missed opportunities, words spoken in anger, years lost to distraction or fear. People carry these regrets like stones in their pockets, rarely mentioning them but always feeling their drag. Shame convinces us that we are uniquely flawed, when in truth everyone walks with their own pocket full of stones.
What strikes me is how these struggles are both invisible and universal. We work so hard to hide them, even though they are the very things that could connect us if we let them. The very things that make us most human are the things we feel we must hide.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’ve always been drawn to places where life is pushed to its limits. With over two thousand dives around the world, my photography explores the balance between strength and fragility, danger and grace. I aim to capture the raw beauty of the natural world and the reminder that even in the harshest environments, life finds a way to endure.
I offer professional photography services above and below the surface, as well as fine art prints crafted in premium aluminum and acrylic formats. Clients range from art collectors, museums and conservation groups to travelers and adventurers seeking unique documentation of their experiences.
At its heart, my photography is about more than images, it is about connection, storytelling, and sharing the extraordinary worlds that exist just below the surface.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
I see the world as a place of contradictions, a mix of chaos and serenity, of violence and beauty. Peace, for me, is most commonly found in quiet rooms and calm routine; Occasionally it is discovered in extremes, in moments that remind me the world is larger than anger or despair.
On the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, standing above the clouds, the air thin and crisp, the tops of clouds laid out like a fluffy blanket, endlessly in every direction. From that height, the petty battles, the noise, the divisions of everyday life shrink into insignificance. The sun rises over peaks and valleys, painting the world in gold and pink, and for a moment, nothing else matters. The world feels vast, untamed, and alive, and in that expanse, I find a quiet peace that reminds me that human cruelty is not the whole story.
Underwater, in the heart of a coral reef, the same truth reveals itself in a different way. Surrounded by vibrant coral, schools of fish flashing in sunlight filtered through the waves, I am enveloped by life in its purest, most intricate form. Here, color, movement, and harmony exist without malice or prejudice. Predators and prey coexist in a delicate balance, each playing a part in the living tapestry. In the rhythm of the reef, I see that the world is capable of beauty and cooperation.
These extremes teach me something fundamental: despite the hate, violence, and despair that dominate the headlines, beauty remains. It is tangible, waiting to be found by those willing to seek it. The world, in all its chaos, offers moments that restore faith in humanity, in life, and in the extraordinary landscapes that exist both above and below the surface.
What fear has held you back the most in your life?
The fear that has probably held me back the most would be the fear of not being enough; not knowing enough, not helping enough, not being able to give people exactly what they need. It’s the self-sabotaging little voice in my head that keeps me from speaking up, from starting creative projects, from reaching out to others. I suppose it’s rooted in the worry that I’ll disappoint someone or fail publicly, and can translate into over-preparing, overthinking, or hesitating instead of acting.
I’ve come to realize this mindset was likely something I developed at a very young age as a survival instinct. When you grow up in a world where emotional safety isn’t guaranteed, where joy might be met with indifference or where love feels conditional, you learn to read the room before you speak, to measure every word, to keep parts of yourself tucked away. You become a master at maintaining composure; calm, capable, dependable because that earns trust and avoids chaos. But the cost is subtle and deep. You begin to believe that your worth is tied to control, to performance, to usefulness, not to simply being. So even as you succeed, there’s a quiet tension between what the world sees (the grounded professional, the reliable teammate, the person who can fix and carry things) and what you quietly long for, which is to be known, not just respected.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Where are smart people getting it totally wrong today?
We live in a world overflowing with information, where the smartest voices are often the loudest; quick to analyze, categorize, and declare certainty. But knowing more isn’t the same as seeing more. True understanding requires humility, curiosity, and the courage to admit what can’t be measured.
The world rewards strong takes, not subtle ones. But the real world lives in the gray areas. Smart people sometimes fear being misunderstood more than they fear being wrong. In this world of information overflow, nuance isn’t a weakness, it is the most important thing lacking in today’s information driven world.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What will you regret not doing?
I might regret not traveling more without a reason. Not photographing the moments that were just for me. Not telling someone, plainly, “You matter to me,” before logic or timing got in the way. Not creating art that was purely an act of wonder, not contribution.
I might regret waiting too long to stop trying to earn belonging, and to simply rest in it.
When you spend much of your life surviving on self-reliance, connection can feel like a foreign language. I learned early on that it is safer to observe than to participate, safer to give than to need, safer to listen than to reveal.
I might regret not forgiving myself for the years spent just emotionally surviving, rather than growing. Because there’s a part of me that still measures time by what I’ve endured, not what I’ve become.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.zransom.com
- Instagram: @zransom
- Linkedin: https://linkedin.com/in/zransom
- Facebook: https://facebook.com/zachransomphotography/
Image Credits
Zach Ransom
