Unexpected Impact
↳Aug 28We stumble and bumble through this life, more often than not resembling bulls in China shops or dandelion fluff. But every so often we have an encounter that looking back, makes us pause. It may not even be a truly physical interaction, but rather hearing someone speak or reading a story that touches your heart and motivates you to act.
The news has been filled with people talking about the death of the Country legend, actress and philanthropist, Dolly Parton. As so often happens with famous people who have passed away there are constant stories that people share about the way the deceased made a meaningful and positive impact. Rarely, out of respect for those who are no longer here, are these stories that are less endearing get shared, but unfortunately not all of our impacts are positive.For your challenge, I ask you to look at the power of impact. It can be an inadvertent impact you had on another or that someone had on you. The key is that your recognition is retrospective, perhaps it’s hypothetical, maybe it’s something real. There really is no right or wrong way to answer this, you’re only asked to take your time, have fun, and enjoy the ripple effect that your sharing will have on your fellow readers.Please post your entry by next Friday, and remember to like and comment on each other’s post as well
Unexpected impact
When a Constant Becomes an Absence
Sometimes we don’t understand the impact a person has had on our lives until the space they occupied becomes empty.
Today, Norway lost King Harald V.
My King.
Those words feel strange to write in the past tense.
He was 89 years old. I knew, rationally, that this day would eventually come. We all did.
But knowing something will happen doesn’t necessarily prepare your heart for the moment when it does.
For me, King Harald was one of those people who simply seemed to have always been there.
A constant.
You don’t wake every morning thinking about constants.
You don’t consciously appreciate the mountains because they are still standing where they stood yesterday.
You don’t think about the lighthouse until suddenly its light is gone.
Perhaps that is one of the quieter forms of impact.
A presence so steady that it becomes woven into the background of your life.
And then it disappears.
Today, I have watched Norway grieve.
Different generations. Different lives. Different opinions.
Yet beneath all of that is the recognition that something familiar has changed.
A chapter has closed.
A constant has slipped into history.
And perhaps only now do we begin to understand how much that constant meant.
It has already been a week filled with death, remembrance and reflection, which makes this week’s Great Minds Think challenge feel particularly poignant.
Because tomorrow brings another reminder of impact.
August 29 would have been Liam Payne’s 33rd birthday.
His second heavenly birthday.
His impact on my life was completely different.
He wasn’t my King.
I never knew him personally.
Yet somehow his voice, his story and what happened after his death became part of my own creative journey.
I began writing again.
Lyrics came.
Music came.
A voice inside me that had become quieter over the years began speaking again.
And perhaps that is what impact really is.
It isn’t always measured by how well we knew someone.
Sometimes it is measured by what moved inside us because they existed.
One man represented something steady throughout much of my life.
Another unexpectedly awakened something creative within me.
Two completely different lives.
Two completely different kinds of impact.
And both remind me of something I often forget:
We rarely know the full ripple of our existence.
Something we say may remain with another person for decades.
A kindness we barely remember may become unforgettable to somebody else.
A song may reach someone we’ve never met.
A steady presence may make people feel safer without them ever stopping to wonder why.
And sometimes it takes an absence before we finally see the shape of the presence that was there.
Today, Norway feels different.
Tomorrow, I will remember another life that ended far too soon.
And somewhere between grief and gratitude, I am reminded that perhaps the greatest impact we leave behind isn’t measured in monuments, titles, awards or headlines.
It is measured in what continues.
In the stories people tell.
In the love they carry.
In the music they make.
In the things they fight for.
In the light they pass forward.
Some people leave footprints.
Others leave ripples.
And some become such a constant in our landscape that only when they are gone do we look towards the empty space and realise:
They were part of the view all along. 💜
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
https://ditto.fm/silenced-but-not-broken
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