Words of a feather

When Oxford Dictionary announced that the “Face with Tears of Joy” emoji was 2015’s word of the year, I cringed. How had a pictograph meant to embellish text messages achieved great literary status? (And anyway, the cat-with-heart-eyes emoji is a much better choice … just kidding).

However, the invention of new words is actually really exciting to me. I’m not saying that I am yet onboard with emojis being words (no matter how often I litter my texts with the new unicorn emoji), but language evolves. I love it when new words express feelings that cannot be crammed into a preexisting word. I can appreciate that.

Recently, I stumbled upon a website called The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, which is “a compendium of invented words written by John Koenig. Each original definition aims to fill a hole in the language — to give a name to emotions we all might experience but don’t yet have a word for.”

One of the words that stood out to me on this website is “sonder.” It has kind of a lengthy definition, but I think it’s important to read the whole thing to understand the gist:

“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 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.”

What’s amazing about Koenig’s words is how relatable they are. I think the idea of sonder is something we don’t always think about; instead, it’s something we understand at an intellectual level. But sometimes it’s brought to our attention.

This happened to me during the holidays. It was mid-morning, and I was driving down the long, wooded street that leads out of my neighborhood. I was racing to work, and lo and behold, there was a garbage truck stopped in the road, partly on my side of the street and almost blocking my way. I was not amused.

As I pulled up closer to the truck, I noticed that the driver was in the vehicle, but he was staring into the grassy area off the side of the road.

Just as I was tempted to impatiently honk my horn and inform him that I (who is supremely important) needed him to move out of the way, I instead decided to look at what was so interesting.

I’m glad I did.

There was a large, beautiful hawk on the ground dancing and showing off his wingspan. It would stalk its prey and flap its wings in a mesmerizing way. I looked at the garbage man from my car, and he looked at me, smiling and laughing as we watched the bird, communicating nonverbally for several minutes.

Eventually, the hawk obtained its prey and flew off. The garbage man smiled and waved, and we drove away on our own paths that had crossed for a brief but impactful moment. Moments like this one let you know that “background players” have complexities, too.

Sometimes, I think it’s easy to see other people as flat characters operating around you, but when you interact with them (accidentally or on purpose), you begin to notice sonder and realize that there is depth in blank faces.

You can watch Koenig’s short “sonder” video here:

I’d give it a high-five emoji any day.

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