I have yet to encounter a person who does not enjoy people-watching. Sitting on a bench outside of Stokes South on an April morning is the perfect opportunity to observe the chaos of thousands of students speedwalking to their next class, awkwardly trying to cut left across the oncoming traffic and skillfully dodging the flyers shoved at them from the tables staffed by persistent student groups. People-watching is a way for us to pass time, sometimes getting a laugh out of someone else’s clumsy fall or eavesdropping on the conversation at a nearby table. It turns into a kind of game: How old do you think he is? Do you think they’re dating or just friends? What is their story?
Earlier this year I discovered my favorite word: sonder. Though not recognized by any major English dictionaries, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows defines sonder as:
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… with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra.
This word pairs perfectly with the thrill of people-watching. I have felt the sensation of sonder my whole life, but up until this recent discovery it had been an indescribable phenomenon, one that fascinated me each time I observed those around me. How amazing it is that every single person on Earth embarks on a journey as complicated, unique, inspiring, and utterly chaotic as my own every day- and I know I am not the only one who feels this.
A parallel exists between the sense of sonder that arises from people-watching and the hidden life on the seashore. Rachel Carson, when describing this secret world, writes, “Invisibly, where the casual observer would say there is no life, it lies deep in the sand, in burrows and tubes and passageways.” This description brings me back to Ponte Vedra Beach, FL, where I spend hours walking along the shore. When the waves come in they wipe away every footprint and shell, but, looking closely, I can see the bubbles beneath the sand once the waves retreat. This is the life Carson writes about. Every shell that I step over or pick up was, at some point, the home of a living organism. In fact, each shell is its own world of microbial life. But I do not notice these things when I am walking on the beach, marveling at the mansions with balconies, tennis courts, and guest homes.
The same could be said about people. Someone who does not pay attention to or is not intrigued by those around her will not pick up on fascinating universe that lies within each person. This realization that so much exists beyond the surface- that there is so much more to each person than I can possibly imagine- allows me the opportunity to see the world in a new light.
Simple actions, like turning off my phone at the dinner table or taking a minute to chat with a friend in passing, allow me to better understand this world and the people living in it by taking the chance to look closely and live in the moment. There is so much life in each of us, full of heartbreaking challenges and triumphant love stories, that we can only begin to uncover by speaking and listening to one another. In a world so controlled by external appearances and the best picture to post on Instagram it is easy to lose your sense of sonder, forgetting that the people in those photos have lives, too.
Perhaps this is why we enjoy people-watching. It is a way for us to regain that imagination and wonder, to pay attention to the life that lies beneath the surface. The people walking by can appear to be nonexistent or meaningless, but sitting on the Stokes bench is a moment to give into sonder and imagine the endless possibilities that lie within each being, acknowledging and appreciating the fact we are all just minuscule individuals connected through our stories in such a vast world.
Works Cited
Carson, Rachel. “The Marginal World.” The Edge of the Sea, edited by Paul Brooks, The Riverside Press, 1955, pp. 1-7.
Koenig, John. “Sonder.” The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, 2009-2018, www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/23536922667/sonder.
Wandering & Wondering 