ON SONDER
Unpopular (or perhaps popular) opinion: Sitting in a crowded airport or busy mall and observing the countless random passers-by is quite honestly (albeit quite weirdly) one of life’s simplest pleasures.
Come on, I can’t be alone in this. It’s a thing. It’s called “people watching.” I know you know what I’m talking about. I’ve heard of couples that go on “people watching dates” just for fun.
There’s something to it, though. Something about observing the countless people around you and enjoying the oddly satisfying feeling of watching other people meander about, living their separate yet similar lives — imagining what their life is like, who they are, where they’re from, where they’re going, what challenges they may be facing, why they’re traveling to where they’re traveling to, who they’re going to see, making snap judgments about them and their very life stories, solely based off brief glimpses and glances as they walk by or sit next to you.
An activity like this could be considered judgmental, yes, but it depends on how you do it, and more importantly why you do it. Some people may observe the people around them through a critical, condescending lens, cracking jokes, teasing, or making shallow comments about the strangers surrounding them. But this is not what I mean.
The “people watching” I’m talking about here is a much deeper, much more hopeful, almost spiritual type of observation — one that fills me with empathy, wonder, and a profound sense of connection to and appreciation for the seemingly endless sea of strangers around me.
It’s called sonder.
About a year ago, I came across a fascinating website called “The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.” On this website is a compendium of made-up words written by John Koenig that defines emotions that do not have a descriptive term. This is where I found the word.
Sonder
n. (uncountable) (neologism) The profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passed in the street, has a life as complex as one's own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it.
A longer definition from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows’ website goes like this:
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.
Does it resonate?
This phenomenon that I’ve always felt but could never name is one that tugs at my heartstrings and sends me into a world of wonder where I contemplate the unfeasible labyrinths of life and excavate the dizzyingly intricate ideas of each individual’s unique existence. How the love, pain, frustration, or laughter that I experience is also experienced by the woman walking by, or the couple sitting next to me. How the man over there is going through the toughest trial of his life, or that girl over there is having the best day of hers.
Beautifully, as I go about my day quietly observing, I more deeply understand that each individual is living a complex life like my own, each one filled with its own beauties and challenges, complications and intricacies. I am quicker to extend empathy and slower to cast judgment. Instead of annoyance, I am filled with peace and tolerance. And as opposed to making fun, I’m more prone to heartfelt learning and curiosity.
Internalizing this idea changed the way I look at people. It added depth to my observations and context to my judgments. It also taught me this: No matter who it is we observe, we’re all going through the same things and feeling the same feelings, just in different ways and in different times. We all share this enigmatic experience of existence. Maybe that’s why sonder is so special. In a way, it’s like we’re watching ourselves.
MUCH LOVE,