You're Flicking Your Wrist. They're Hanging On For Dear Life.

Imagine you're standing in the centre of a room, spinning a long rope above your head.

From where you're standing, it doesn't feel fast. You're only flicking your wrist. Small movements. Controlled. Barely any effort at all.

But anyone at the edge of the room is seeing that very same rope move very damn fast. And anyone holding on to the end of that rope is hanging on for dear life.

That image holds one of the most important lessons there is about leading people through change.

The change that feels small, obvious, and controlled from where you're standing can feel sudden, scary, and destabilising to the people further out from the decision.

It applies almost everywhere in life.

Think about it in a relationship.

You make a decision in your head over weeks. You turn it over. You sit with it. By the time you say it out loud, you've fully processed it and you're at peace with it.

But your partner is hearing it for the first time.

You're flicking your wrist.
They're hanging on for dear life.

The conversation goes badly, not because the decision was wrong, but because you forgot they weren't standing where you were standing.

Think about it as a parent.

A change feels reasonable and minor to you. A new routine. A new rule. A move. A shift in the family. You've had time to adjust to the idea.

Your child hasn't.

What feels like a small flick of your wrist can feel like the ground moving beneath them.

Think about it with anyone you're trying to bring along on a change.

A friend.
A family member.
A team.
A business partner.

The distance between you and them on the rope is everything.

The closer someone is to the centre of a decision, the smaller the change feels.
The further out they are, the more violent the same movement becomes.

Which leads to the two mistakes almost all of us make.

First, we don't involve people early enough.

We process the decision alone, in the centre, where it feels calm and obvious. We forget that bringing people closer to the centre before the rope starts spinning changes everything about how they experience it.

Second, even once we've made the decision, we don't take the time to explain the logic or bring people with us.

We assume that because it makes sense to us, it'll make sense to them. So we move. And the people at the end of the rope, who never got the context we had, simply let go.

So the next time you're about to make a change that affects other people, pause before you start spinning.

Ask yourself one question.

"Where are they standing on the rope?"

Because what feels like a flick of the wrist to you can feel like survival to them.

And if you want them to come with you instead of letting go, you have to close the distance before you start to spin.

If you know someone who would benefit from reading this, please forward it to them. It may change the trajectory of their life for the better, and the catalyst could be you.