What Is the "Sonder" Sensation?
Have you ever walked past someone on the street and had a sudden appreciation that they have a full, complex life just like yours? That they may have someone––or no one––waiting for them at home, just like you? That they have complicated family relationships, a job they may or may not enjoy, regrets about their past, or trepidation about their future? That they are a living, breathing person and not an unambiguous extra whose entire existence is to compliment yours? If so, you may have experienced “sonder”, the realization that every single person you ever encounter is living just as vividly as you are.
The term was coined by author John Koenig in 2012 for his blog, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Here is a snippet of the definition he gives:
“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…”
I have personally had many different moments in life that could be classified as sonder––from realizing that the unsmiling woman in the park walking her dog might have had a bad day at work to observing people in a coffee shop and finding myself wondering what brought them to this particular store and what each one is doing on their computer. Working? Looking for work? Writing important emails? Writing a novel? Designing baby shower invitations on Canva? I have always been curious about the strangers around me––to me, the word “stranger” alludes to this sensation. Strangers are just that––strange. Unfamiliar. Unknown. They are full of mystery and possibility. While I’ve experienced this feeling plenty of times, it wasn’t until recently that I discovered this term. I’ve been thinking about sonder, what it means, a lot more since. It has made me even more perceptive of the world around me. It’s almost as if having a way of pinpointing this feeling has allowed me to appreciate it more. It’s truly fascinating.
I’m sure many of you, dear Ribbon readers, are familiar with the phrases “main character syndrome” or “main character energy.” Essentially, it’s exactly what it sounds like: the feeling of being a main character in life as if the world and all who inhabit it revolve around you. We’ve all had moments when we felt like the universe’s main character––I mean, we can only view the world through our unique lens, so we’re forced to exist through a singular perspective, at least physically. However, the concept of sonder forces those who experience it––which is a lot of us at one point or another in our lives––to change how we look at the world and at so-called strangers. When looking at ourselves in relation to others, perhaps it would be best to look at ourselves not as main characters, nor as extras, but as side characters that complement each other, or simply exist with one another.
On the other hand, classifying ourselves using the terminology used in media–– “protagonists,” “extras,” “side characters,” “supporting characters,” etc––may not be the best way to look at ourselves and other people. Media already dictates so many aspects of our lives in harmful and unhealthy ways, and real life is much more complicated and messy than in film and TV, with its stereotypes and character archetypes. Sonder gives us the ability to experience these equally complicated, messy feelings in a beautiful way.
Experiencing sonder can bring up a variety of feelings, including, perhaps, a sense of sadness. With nearly eight million people on Earth, we’re not going to encounter more than…maybe 0.00000000000001% of everyone in our lifetimes––obviously less, but I’m no mathematician and have no talent for or interest in calculating that. There are so many stories we will never get to know, so many fascinating people with fascinating lives we’ll never even have the privilege of walking past on the street. For those of us who are perpetually curious, we will never know exactly who on this planet we may be able to connect with due to similar circumstances or interests. Even with that exponentially small percentage of people you do get to cross paths with, you’ll likely never truly know them. Either you create stories in your head about their lives or where they may be going (guilty!), or you have to accept the fact that you will never know. That’s just life.
Sonder is a special thing, and I’m glad the term exists. For those of us who experience it regularly, or even occasionally, it can be comforting to know that the wonder and sorrow associated with the feeling is shared. The next time you get a pang of sonder, recognize the privilege we all have of being alive at the same time, even if we may never truly be able to grasp everyone’s experiences. Acknowledging each other is enough.
