There are so  many different kinds of change.  There are the changes we want to happen and the changes we don’t.  There are the changes we predict and plan for, and the changes we don’t see coming.  There are the changes that seem to happen so slowly we can’t stand waiting for and the changes that hit us so suddenly like running into a wall.  But what I’ve been thinking about lately is not just the change, but the ripple effects of change.  They can often be more unpredictable and impactful than the change event itself.

According to the great and wise Wikipedia, a ripple effect happens when “an initial disturbance to a system propagates outward to disturb an increasingly larger portion of the system, like ripples expanding across the water when an object is dropped into it.”  In other words, a ripple effect is when one small change kicks off a chain reaction of events that you may not be able to foresee.  (A random example might be someone who adopts two adorable mini donkeys…then  needs a trailer to transport or evacuate them…and then a truck to pull the trailer…just for example.)

Ripple effects can be force multipliers. If I make a change in one area of my life, it will impact another area and can be additive.  I can step by step build up my confidence or my discipline, etc.  For example, if I take a class and learn a new skill, I can feel more confident and get a new job, then earn more money and improve my family’s well being.  Or, if I, as a member of a community, make a change, it can influence others to make a change and the effect size can magnify and grow exponentially.  This source of power is a key to what we see in political campaigning this time of year.  One person can inspire others to act, that inspires others to act, and so on.

And while ripple effects can be powerful sources for positive change, they can also be sources of stress.  Ripples are the after-effect changes, the unfolding stressors we have to live and cope with in an ongoing manner.  They are often unpredictable and can be isolating as they may go unnoticed, especially by others, compared to the big change itself.  For example, when we experience a profound loss, we lose the companionship and connection to the person who has died.  But months and years down the road we keep experiencing the ripple effects of the loss in a myriad of ways.  “My wife used to do the taxes,” one widow told me, or, “my son used to host Thanksgiving,” a bereaved mother shared. 

There’s no way to prevent ripple effects, but I’ve been thinking about this topic in terms of ways we can be more mindful of them.  One way involves when we’re planning for a change, we can be more conscious of thinking through the effects it will have on ourselves, on others, and on our organization or community.  Sometimes we underestimate our impact and minimize the disruption that happens when we make a change.  Part of healthy change is anticipating the effects on ourselves, the people, and the environment around us. We can think of it as a personal environmental impact report, of sorts.  Good planning can also help people adjust to our change and to make it go more smoothly and successfully.

Another way we can use a proactive approach to ripple effects is to be a sensitive support to others.  I often hear and have experienced myself that people tend to forget about your change.  Not due to any intention, but other people move on.  It might be nice to be on the lookout for ways that people may be affected in the long term by ripple effects.  For example, inviting someone to a holiday dinner after they go through a divorce or offering to give someone a ride if they are battling an illness.  Extrapolating the effect of a change for someone can help you anticipate how to be a good supporter, or for yourself, in how to prepare and ask for what you need.

In addition when change happens to a large community, it effects each of us in a different way. While we can assume some similarity, our ripple is specific to the unique landscape of our lives. The pandemic hit the entire world, but each country, state, city and family had their own challenges. It’s important to be mindful that other’s do not experience change in the same way. that we do.

And finally, being aware of ripple effects can help us recognize our potential as a rock thrower.  As Mother Theresa had said:  “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.”  We each have the ability to be a force for change in the smallest of ways.  Smiling at a stranger, asking someone if they’re ok, making a small donation, baking a meal, or saying you are sorry.  Generally speaking, you don’t have to do or post something that goes viral.  We are all influencers.

Just this past week I was totally inspired by words from a man I was working with that also made us both laugh.  He was going on about his worries about the action of someone he cared about and all the ways that he, himself, was at fault.  After listening for a bit, I asked how he knew their behavior was related to him.  He reflected for a bit, and then said with a smile, “Because…it’s all about me.”

Anxiety has a way of making us self absorbed.  Even if our obsessive thinking is about trying to please other people or do the right thing, our very process of spinning in our heads is very solitary.  We try to read other people’s minds and assume we know what they feel. Or we project, assuming they feel or think as we do or as we fear.  Of course it’s not possible, nor advisable, to be immune to other people’s opinions or actions.  It’s healthy and valued to care about what people think, especially the ones we love.  But there’ a difference between respecting what people think and assuming responsibility for it.  When we make it about us, we often act to reduce our own discomfort rather than acting to address what is actually happening with the other person.

I often laugh when I step back from my people pleasing tendencies to see how selfish I’m actually being.  I want to avoid conflict, I want the day to be pleasant, and most of all, I want people to like me.  I go out of my way to assume what other people need and want, and then assume I can deliver it.  If they aren’t happy, it’s because I did or didn’t do something.  In essence, I make it all about me.  And in doing so, I put pressure on the other person to show they’re happy or appreciative of what I’m doing.  They sense that I need them to be happy for my sake.  In fact, it may actually make it harder for them to express what they want or need, especially if they have to worry about hurting my feelings or feed into my anxiety about not being good enough. 

Self absorbed thinking can also work the other way around.  Rather than us being responsible for other people’s reactions, we instead assume others are intentionally responsible for ours. We blame them for how we feel.  I often remember my mother telling me I should put a sweater on because it made her cold to see me without one.  It seems funny, but we do this in bigger and more subtle ways all the time.  Often we make our preferences someone else’s problem.  For example, I get just a wee bit irritable when I’m hungry.  Not wanting to ruin my appetite or overeat, I would stress my husband out about coming home for dinner at the time I wanted to eat.  I’d get annoyed, and especially when he got home late, a wee bit snarky.  I’d accuse him of causing me to be hungry and blame my bad mood on him. Rightly, he finally called me out on it.  My preference and my reactions were not his problem.  While he would try to be home at our usual dinner time, if he was forced to be late, it was up to me to either choose to eat without him or eat a bit to even out my blood sugar.  I had to let go of the story I had built up in my head that he was disrespecting me and creating difficulty for me.  The truth was, the time he left work was not about me.

To be clear, being a considerate and generous person is wonderful and being assertive about our needs is important.  But people pleasing and obsessional thinking are different.  Giving is about the other person, while people pleasing is an attachment to someone else’s reaction in order to avoid our own discomfort. And blaming other people for our own discomfort is a way of avoiding the burden of responsibility for our reactions. Either way, personalizing reactions leads to blurred boundaries and unhealthy communication.  We can tie ourselves up in knots creating stories about what others do and why.   Stepping back to remind yourself that “it’s not all about me” is a great way to detangle ourselves.