Sonder
is
a
term
that
describes the realization that
each random passerby is living
a life as vivid and complex
as your own; in essence, the
word strikes a sense of not
only sorrow due to meaning
itself, but also comfort, an
echo that radiates between
the two syllables and connects
the six letters into a hopeful
hopelessness.
When
I
first
learned about the word, I was
listening to my playlist as a new
song by Brent Faiyaz popped
up in my recommendations:
“Sonder
Son.”
Intrigued,
I pressed the play button,
immediately
enraptured
by
the smoothness of his voice
and even more by the meaning
behind the song title itself.
In Faiyaz’s song, as with the
word, there’s a sense of sadness
that reveals itself due to the
idea that the stories and the
lives of others will never truly
be our own. While intriguing
and also complex, this concept
also renders a sense of sorrow
that we can never claim as our
own. Coined by John Koenig,
the creator of the Dictionary of
“Obscure Sorrows,” the word
most hauntingly reveals that
we are “merely an extra” to
someone else’s story. Perhaps
it is the awareness that our
part to play is not the leading
role, that we are mere specks
of grain in a grand cosmos,
that we exist simply to fulfill
the lives of others. These
tumbling thoughts can send us
spiraling into an existential,
earth-shattering philosophical
dilemma — at least it did for
me.
As with most trends, social
media has brought about new
takes on and concepts that
are repeated by those who are
influenced by such videos or
content. One particular idea
that has surfaced over the
past few years is that of being
the “main character,” that we
are indeed the lead stars of
this show we call life and that
everyone around us is merely a
participant or side actor to each
season of the series. Our story
becomes the most important
one because it is entirely our
own, and therefore, everyone
around us defines the timeline
of our story. We stare out the
bus windows listening to sad
music so we feel like our pain
means something. We order
intricate coffee in aesthetically
pleasing coffee shops where
ivy hangs from the ceiling
and fairy lights twinkle in the
background. We read our books
about self-care and positive
affirmations.
Main character syndrome, as
it’s been defined, may give the
once unseen person a chance to
experience life through a lens
of admiration and love of their
own life, a romanticization and
coping mechanism for the pain
that life may bring. But at the
same time, the reinvention of
oneself into the main character
may instead come with a lack
of empathy, awareness and
accountability. This is where
sonder’s beauty and mystery
come in. Everyone has a story,
but the fact is that we will
never
know
anyone’s
story
completely but our own. Telling
someone
our
complexities,
fears, triumphs and struggles
is never the same as actually
experiencing them. We each
have our own heartbreaks,
losses, pain and grief, but so
does that person sitting right
next to you on the bus. So does
that person who sits near you
in your psychology class, the
girl whose tote bag is covered
in eclectic pins, the professor
who never smiles, the frail lady
whose wrinkles hold mysteries
and whose laugh lights up the
sky.
It’s 8:30 a.m. I stand outside
the bus stop while the chilling
wind brushes against the side
of my cheek, furrowing my
hands deeper into my pockets.
As soon as the bus comes rolling
down to the stop, people move
closer to the doors, pushing
and clamoring in an attempt to
make it on the bus.
In a school with more than
40,000 students, one cannot
help but feel like an extra to
life. In the midst of the bustling
crowd, there are the students
with accolades and awards, the
prettier versions of yourself,
the better test takers, the more
studious students and the less
lonely. With such a school
comes great unity, but also a
prolonged sense of loneliness.
The
romanticization
and
main-character
centeredness
that many rely on for a sense
of comfort allows one to feel
special, in a sense, within their
own way. Yet there again comes
sonder, which reminds us that
each of the 40,000 students
here at the University has a
life as varied, complex and rich
as our own. Koenig takes care
to describe sonder as “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.”
One of the reasons that the
realization of sonder often
may strike a harsh chord is
because
humans
strive
so
deeply to be distinct, to be
unique and special from their
counterparts.
People
who
endeavor for a unique sense of
distinctiveness often search
for opportunities where their
uniqueness can be exhibited,
and try to live as their most
authentic selves. With this,
however,
also
comes
the
sense of belonging, and the
balance
of
self-authenticity
and group identity is one of
the most important aspects
that
plays
into
one’s
self-
esteem.
Particularly,
main
character syndrome stresses
the importance of individuality
and living life as authentically
as one can. Sonder reclaims
this individuality as a concept
that
focuses
on
not
one
singular person but the unique
experiences as the collective
individual.
I grip the metal rail as the
early, packed bus was quiet and
loud all at the same time. In the
back sits a person who cradles
a half-eaten bagel sandwich
in her hand, crumbs on the
sides of her mouth while she
talks loudly but tenderly on the
phone with someone who I can
only assume to be her mom.
Next to her sits the person who
watches Netflix on their phone,
snickering every five seconds
while some try to get a glimpse
of what they are watching.
Then, the bus driver: Humming
the
words
of
his
favorite
song under his breath while
sipping his morning coffee.
This right here is sonder:
watching
others
experience
their daily lives through a lens
of understanding, an almost
type of frustration that one
is unable to truly understand
their story.
I’m not saying that sonder
entails not feeling like your
own life doesn’t matter. In fact,
I believe quite the opposite.
Sonder makes one appreciate
the beauty that is present in
one’s own life. It is a revelation,
an exposition, an unveiling of
the beautiful, the mundane, the
terrible and the ugly. Sonder’s
beauty lies in the fact that it
is not all beautiful, yet that
there can be beauty found in
the not beautiful, that each of
us is simply trying to live but
also to be appreciated in all our
complexity.
So maybe we are all the
main
characters.
Because
what sonder reveals is that
all of us have a leading role,
but also a much smaller part
to play. Sonder makes us both
appreciate the beauty and the
insignificance of our lives.
It allows us to look from an
outsider’s perspective but also
from an insider one, allowing us
to open to various perspectives
and revealing how not all of
life’s mysteries need to be
solved. Sonder, in the sense of
the word, grants us the chance
for connection with others in a
way that truly allows us to feel
and empathize. This is what
sonder beautifully reveals.
S T A T E M E N T
8 — Wednesday, April 5, 2023
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
CHINWE ONWERE
Statement Columnist
What ‘sonder’ most beautifully reveals
Design by Haylee Bohm