I wrote and posted a story called We Chatted a Bit ten days ago. If you missed it, you’ll find a link to it at the bottom of this story. After reading it, my longtime friend Carole suggested I look up the word “sonder,” so I did. It’s defined as “the sudden realization that every stranger is living a life as rich, complex, and vivid as your own.” John Koenig coined the term as part of his mission to name emotions we all feel but never had words for. “Sonder” became his most well-known creation because it captures a universal truth: we’re surrounded by entire worlds we rarely notice. If you look up Koenig, you’ll learn more about him and his work.
I was thinking about that after last Wednesday’s Singles New Beginnings class. As the group’s founder and chief facilitator, Barbara, asked me to read We Chatted a Bit to the SNB class. We’ve been discussing friends and friendships for a couple of weeks, and she thought the story’s theme fit into our discussion. After I read, Barbara asked each attendee if they had a comment on the story.
Ellen asked if I had ever invited my neighbor that I mentioned in the story, Dave, to Singles New Beginnings. Since he was single, he might like to join us. I told her, “No, but I could.”
As the other attendees spoke, I listened to their observations. They had several different thoughts, and as they shared, I thought about that “sonder” word. Everyone in Singles New Beginnings has a life that the rest of us don’t know about. We share bits and pieces in class, but unless we share, no one knows.
Koenig coined the word “sonder” to describe the moment you realize every stranger is living a life as complex as your own. Everyone carries their own joys, worries, and private struggles. I’m struck by how often these moments happen in a place like The Villages. For me, it’s especially true in my memoir writing class and Singles New Beginnings group.
Every so often, someone speaks about something in their life that reminds me of mine. I’m sure the opposite is true as well. We’re from all over the country and a myriad of backgrounds, but at this stage of our lives we just want to have a few friends to share our time with.
At the end of class last week, I told Ellen I’d head across the street to talk to Dave. I’ve tried, but he hasn’t answered when I knocked. He might be out of town or just not interested in opening the door. I chatted with our shared cleaning lady, and she said he rarely talks to her. When she cleans his place, he stays focused on reading the paper or watching TV. He just lifts his feet while she vacuums and glances around her as she dusts the top of the television.
She finds it strange because we can talk all day. We’ve shared details about our lives with each other. When we first met, she was a stranger, but now we’re friends. We help each other work through things, and that’s how friendships grow.
Since trying to reconnect with Dave, I recalled another detail I forgot to mention in my first chatter story about the barber I met. He pointed to the hat he was wearing that day and said, “I’m a student of history.” The hat marked our country’s two hundred fiftieth anniversary celebration. And then he said, “Two hundred and fifty years is a long time for a civilization to survive. Throughout history, several have failed by the two-hundred and fifty mark. If history does indeed repeat itself, given today’s political climate, we may be bound for a civil war”
I didn’t agree or disagree. I just listened. I did think to myself that I’d heard others voice that same concern. I hope they’re all wrong, because I believe, even with our internal conflicts, this is a pretty good place to live. Since I started refocusing my life, I’ve made some new friends and not one enemy. And while it’s true that not everyone is as open to sharing as the barber I met in the tire store, most are more open than Dave.
I’m not judging, just observing. As we move through life, we gather many things, but the most valuable can’t be counted in dollars and cents. They’re the people who join us along the way. They add color, meaning, and surprise to our journey. I plan to keep meeting new people as I continue mine. And I’ll hold on to that word “sonder” as a reminder that every person I meet carries a story as rich as my own, and that we’re far more alike than different.