The Ripple Effect of Kindness
The impact of kindness has no limits.
The joy of universal synergy is undeniable—but is it just luck? Or does it show up more and more the closer we step into becoming the person we want to be?
Last week, I wrote about the joy of stepping further into who I am. Through years of trial and error, I’ve come to understand myself more—or at least, I’m on my way.
So, let’s start this week with a question. And a book recommendation: The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.
Without giving too much away, there’s a quote in it that I want to bring to your attention:
“When you make a decision, the whole universe conspires to make it happen.”
Now, do we actually believe that? Is there some unseen force working behind the scenes, pulling us closer to what we want?
Truthfully, I have no idea. I think it’s a beautiful concept, but do I really believe it?
Let me tell you a story, and you tell me if you think something greater is at play.
This all takes place in Perth, Western Australia—a city often described as a giant country town because of the way everyone seems connected.
To start, let’s rewind to January 2024. One morning, I was having coffee and reading Surrounded by Idiots by Thomas Erikson when a man sitting nearby gave me a look and laughed—clearly amused by the book’s title. I smirked, saying, “Quite true, isn’t it?” He chuckled, nodded, and replied, “I might need to read it myself.”
We laughed, finished our coffee, and as I got up, I placed the book in front of him. “It’s yours,” I said. I had received another copy as a Christmas gift, so I didn’t need this one.
(I haven’t really thought about why two different people thought I needed that book—maybe that’s a topic for another time.)
Fast forward to last week. I photographed my good friend’s exhibition and shared the images online. I got a lot of messages about the work and the artist, including one from someone I had never heard of before. We chatted about a potential portrait shoot.
Yesterday, I was out in the late afternoon, photographing some beautiful flowers in front of a woman’s house. She came outside, curious about what I was doing. We got talking, and I learned that she had lived in that house for 60 years and had worked at the now-closed biscuit factory until it shut down.
Fast forward to today. I had a meeting with the artist about the portrait shoot. When I arrived at her studio, I was struck by the beauty of the restored building. After a few compliments, we talked about the space, and she mentioned that it used to be an old cake or manufacturing company.
Then, she said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“I think we’ve met before.”
I’m terrible with names but rarely forget a face. I was confused.
She told me that after seeing the exhibition photos last week, she had visited my website and realised that over a year ago, I had met her and her husband—and given them a book. She then held up Surrounded by Idiots.
To bring this full circle, as I was leaving, I mentioned my encounter with the woman and her garden yesterday. The artist smiled and said, “It wasn’t cake—it was the original biscuit factory.”
So, let’s break this down:
A year ago, I gave a stranger a book.
Two weeks ago, I photographed a friend’s work.
Yesterday, I met a woman tending to her garden.
Today, I had a meeting with a new client—someone I had unknowingly crossed paths with before.
All these small moments have somehow connected, bringing me here, now.
I’m not here to say that “when you make a decision, the whole universe conspires to make it happen.” But I do think it’s nice to believe in the possibility.
Isn’t it better to believe that when you open one door, another is waiting—or at the very least, a window?
Isn’t it better than only seeing walls?
Do we convince ourselves to focus on the problems in our choices instead of the possibilities?
And if so—can we change that?
Just some questions for your Tuesday morning.
Have an amazing week.
— Adam
The photo I took at her house/sneak peak at a new project.



This is the warmth I needed on this cold morning!
The Alchemist is one of my favorite books, although I am generally not an optimist. - Your story was lovely and put a smile on my face that broadened as I read. - The world is vast; the world is small.