I have begun to think of life as a series of ripples widening out

“I have begun to think of life as a series of ripples widening out from an original center.” Thus spoke Seamus Heaney, the poet of earth and soul, whose words flowed like the rivers of Ireland—quiet, deep, and filled with memory. In this vision, life is not a straight road or a rigid ladder, but a circle expanding outward, each moment and action sending waves into the vastness of existence. The “original center” of which he speaks is the self—the soul’s first awareness, the heart’s first stirring—and from it every choice, every word, every kindness or cruelty, spreads through time and space like ripples across still water.

To understand Heaney’s wisdom, imagine the hand that drops a stone into a pond. The impact is small, almost silent, yet the rings that form stretch far beyond the place of the fall. So it is with our lives. Every act we commit, every thought we nourish, every love we give or deny, moves outward, touching shores we may never see. The center is the soul; the ripples are its influence upon the world. Heaney, who often wrote of roots, fields, and the deep music of belonging, understood that our being is not isolated. We live connected—each of us a source of motion, each of us shaping the waters of life around us.

In the days of old, the philosophers of the East spoke of karma, the eternal law of cause and effect. The Greeks, too, believed that the deeds of men echoed through generations. But Heaney’s words breathe gentleness into this eternal truth. He does not speak of punishment or fate, but of continuity—the way a simple gesture can awaken unseen transformations. A smile to a stranger, a word of forgiveness, a poem shared in solitude—these are the stones that ripple through the waters of humanity. The wise understand that life’s greatness does not lie in grand gestures alone, but in the quiet widening of influence born from compassion and authenticity.

Consider the story of Florence Nightingale, the lady with the lamp. When she walked through the dark wards of the wounded, tending to each soldier with a mother’s care, she did not seek fame or glory. She was one woman, in one place, with one purpose. Yet her compassion sent ripples across centuries—reforming medicine, inspiring women, reshaping how humanity understands service. Her “original center” was mercy, and from it her ripples spread through time, touching lives long after her lamp was extinguished. Such is the power of one illuminated soul.

But not all ripples are born of goodness. A harsh word, a cruel deed, a heart closed by pride—these too send waves into the world. The tyrants of history, who believed their power absolute, left ripples of fear that scarred generations. Yet even their darkness was not eternal; the waters, stirred by courage and truth, eventually found balance again. Heaney’s image reminds us that the world is never static—it is ever-changing, shaped by each motion of the human heart. Thus, our task is not to control the sea, but to send forth ripples of light, knowing they will meet and merge with others in the grand tide of time.

And what, then, is this “original center”? For some, it is childhood—the wellspring of innocence and wonder. For others, it is faith, love, or the first moment they awaken to purpose. It is the core of being, the still point from which we act and to which we return. Heaney suggests that as we grow older, we come to see that life is not a collection of random events, but a pattern—a spreading of circles from that first center. We begin to recognize that our influence moves beyond us, that our presence shapes a world we may never fully know.

So, my child of the widening circles, take this wisdom to heart: guard your center well, for from it flows all that you are. Let your actions be clear and kind, your words measured and true. Do not believe that your life is small, for every life, however humble, sends ripples across eternity. Be mindful of what you cast into the waters of time—whether it be peace or turmoil, love or indifference—for the ripples will return to you, bearing the reflection of your soul.

Live, then, as Heaney did—rooted in your origins, yet ever widening in empathy and vision. Be the stone that disturbs the stillness for good; let your presence awaken motion in others. For when you reach the end of your days and look back upon the waters of your life, may you see them shimmering with ripples of meaning, ever widening, ever bright, stretching far beyond the reach of your own hands.