My Two-Cents: Sonder
I recently received a blog request from my dear old anatomy lab TA. Since I owe him for the numerous times he reminded me I left my iPad in the lab, I thought I would give the idea a good old college try. (I’m not sure I can say that anymore since I’m not in college.) So here it goes: Here’s my Nonsense 2cents on Sonder.
Sonder is the realization that each random passerby lives as vivid, meaningful, unique, and complex a life as your own. To quote my dashingly handsome (but horrifically terrible at the Wordle) anatomy lab TA, it’s “Everyone is their own main character type shit.” Maybe that homeless woman on the street corner was once a little girl who used to watch Curious George while her dad would nap. Maybe that Bagels and Joe worker my ill-tempered and poor-mannered anatomy lab TA yells at (because Bagels and Joe is not as good as the Sioux Falls Original: Bagel Boy) was once an aspiring actor who now works the early morning shifts to bring in some extra cash for his son's tennis lessons.
To continue quoting my TA, “Everyone has their own story, friends, routines, and things that make them happy. Like when Kate sends me her Wordle results and I did better than her.” In this case, we see that some people not only have their own stories, but they also harbor their own delusions (to compensate for the fact that they themselves are bad at the Wordle). Anyway, that’s not important. What's important is the appreciation for other people's lives we receive when we begin to understand how insignificant our own are.
I am just a side character in someone else's story. Out of the eight billion people living on Earth, I’m the main character in only one story. In the majority, I don’t exist. In a crowd, I’m a special guest. In a handful of cases, I’m a regular. But still a side character, nonetheless. Does this make my life less meaningful? I would argue quite the opposite. If nothing matters, everything does! And by everything, I mean only the most important things. Not the whimsical matters we often trifle with. Like last weekend when I went a little too crazy on the “Shots For the Table” button in my personal story. My narrative detailed the poor ditzy blonde who couldn't manage her money and got trigger-happy with her debit card after a few too many Coors Light and Fireball shots. So what. Sue her! She just wants to make sure her friends get enough shots. The more the merrier. Until the next morning – when she has to re-read last night's chapter and begin the subsequent with a sorrowful tone of regret. Or at least that was how I was feeling until I took some time to think about Sonder. My personal depiction, self-deprecation, and analysis make up one story where I am the main character, author, and observer. In the other 7.99999… I’m just a random passerby. In a few, I’m the sloppy drunk. But only as a side character, so I can live with that.
I can live with a lot of things knowing how insignificant my own life is in the captivating beauty of how many other main character storylines bloom every morning and lie down every night. I can let a lot of trivial matters lay to rest and just smile and wave at more passersby, who are so complex and different from me that it makes us alike.
Yours truly,
Kate
