The Pebble and the Small Ripple
Dad was attempting to alleviate my anguish. I was going though a rough patch and he was consoling me, as he had on many occasions. He said it was like the pebble that drops into a calm pond and immediately creates a splash and ripples extend out then diminish. As it sinks it disappears and the surface returns to serenity. In my troubled mind, I misunderstood him. I agreed that this moment like the splash of the pebble would be momentary and that all I was concerned with would go back to normal. But that’s not the lesson he wanted to impart. My actions were like the pebble disturbing the water and causing a ripple that might affect others but as the pebble sinks life absorbs it and my impact would not be enough to disturb the largeness of the pond. It wasn’t the consolation I was expecting.
His analogy was a reality check; a gentle face slap. Perhaps at the time I thought highly that what I did was a boulder drop when instead it was a pebble blurp. Somehow I overthought my impact. He further referred to when he retired from work. He had believed his value and contributions would be missed and was certain the workplace would not be the same without him. He found out that business returned to normal, operations got done, and life would go on. Some other manager would take his place and like the water that fills the space where the pebble landed and sunk, work activities would resume with little fanfare. Ouch, sucker punch to my ego.
Even now my thoughts come back to dad’s pebble especially in moments when I’m not acknowledged and the places where my presence is forgotten or unappreciated. Just when I think I’ve made an impact, I’m quickly reminded that people even friends can hardly notice or remember me. When dad told me this story, he was getting me out of taking myself too seriously. However, since I’ve felt like the pebble can draw a different picture of my life’s contributions swallowed up by the weight and largess of the pond — my communities. And with all the moving I’ve been doing this year, I feel my presence has been skipping across the surface of these groups.
The only bright reprisal to dad’s analogy is later I randomly ran into people who worked with him. When they learned I was his son, they only had positive regard particularly of how dad treated them. People rarely remember what you say to them but always remember how you made them feel. Maybe those ripples were longer lasting than dad thought after all.
There are times when I still feel like my actions are small pebbles when I really want them to be large stones making splashes. In the times when I’m feeling better about the world and grateful, I feel I just need a lot more pebbles, and with more positive pebbles and impressions, as they rest, they may not cause enduring ripples but they will eventually raise the height of the pond.