How May I Impact You?

It took me something like forty years to learn this, but I finally learned that you make an impact, whether you mean to or not.

If you're there, your presence makes an impact.

If you're not there, but you're supposed to be there, your absence makes an impact.

If you think you can be there but not be noticed, or noticeable, or make an impact, you're not seeing the whole picture.

I used to get told a lot to "Smile!"  Nothing irritates someone not smiling more than being told to smile.  I don't think a smile is what I responded to those people with.

From my perspective, I was just going about my business.  I wasn't in a bad mood.  I wasn't being unpleasant.  I was just being me--probably lost in my own thoughts, and if I wasn't smiling about something, I just wasn't smiling about anything.  No one needed to take it personally.  I was minding my own business and wishing at that moment that others would, too.

Why should I go around grinning like a goon all the time?

If I didn't know someone, or know them well, I didn't need to say hello as we passed.  I was as inconsequential to them as they were to me.

So I thought.

I'm not naturally very extroverted, so this is one of my blind spots.  I would never be overtly rude, so I thought I was not being rude.  I would never hurt people on purpose, so I assumed I was not hurtful.

But.  When you pass someone and don't acknowledge them, you make an impact whether you mean to or not.  If you are in the same room with someone and you're each busy doing your own thing, you impact each other slightly no matter what.  This is what I learned.

The other person has to wonder, on some level, what does it mean that she doesn't say hi?  Does she not like me?  Is she a grouch?  Have I offended her in some way?  Is she a conceited snob?  Am I wearing the wrong thing?  Beneath her notice?  Do I have something stuck in my teeth?

I was shocked to learn that people thought negatively of me--people I had never meant to offend and never would have offended.  I was just shy, and lost in my own thoughts.  Everyone has blind spots where they do not see themselves in the same way others do.  This was one of mine.

It's so simple just to do something to make sure that your impact, however slight, leans in the positive direction instead of the negative direction.  So, why not do it?  Why not smile, say hi, acknowledge people in some way?  It breaks the tension and makes everyone feel better.  You might even make a friend, or hear something interesting or amusing in return. 

The fact is that people do form impressions of us, whether we want them to or not.  And not just based on our appearance, but on our behavior.  Might as well be a good one. 

I'd rather people, no matter how little contact I may have had with them, think of me as nice.  It doesn't hurt anything.  The opposite might.

This idea can be extended out into areas where you have repeated contact--at work, school, or church.  Even in our families.  Much like the white space in art, what you don't do and don't say can make an impact, as well as what you do do and say.  If you're in a group that is talking or behaving in a way that you don't agree with, not saying or doing something can leave the impression that you do agree.  Especially when it's important, we need to make ourselves known.

Just today, my husband asked me to meet him at a location downtown in order to get gas at a good price in both of our vehicles.  I was thinking about something on the way down, and I got involved with a Sudoku puzzle as I waited for him. Since he had left the house while I was at the gym, this was the first time we had seen each other today. 

"How are you?" he asked.  Then, "Everything okay?" 

He asked me enough times that I realized, oh--I am being really quiet and he can't tell why.  My monosyllabic answers were leaving him curious.  What was going on with me, anyway?  I just felt in a subdued mood--nothing really was going on.  I was fine--just a little tired from three bad nights' sleep in a row, and from my five-mile run.  But he clearly wondered if something was wrong or I was mad or sick or something else. 

It occurred to me that it would be nice if I could explain, so I tried.  "I'm just a little lost in thought," I said.  "I'm working on a blog post about being lost in thought, so I'm. . .practicing."

He laughed a deep laugh from his center, and I smiled.  I'm always glad when I can live up to the first quality he told me he sought in a woman--to remain interesting.

Because, at the end of the day, no matter how many interested thoughts we introverts self-generate, we want to relate well to the people outside of and around us.

And, as I've found, one sure-fire way to get people to stop telling you, "Smile!" is to already be smiling.