好奇 (hàoqí) / digital sonder

In Tokyo there was a cafe up on Roppongi Hills called Tully’s Coffee. It sat parallel to a busy, elevated highway with patio chairs facing the street. Countless streams of people walked by.

I used to love sitting there. It provided ample opportunity for people watching.

I’d sit and wonder what their lives are like. What items do they carry in their briefcase? What music do they listen to in their headphones? Do they go home to a warm meal or an empty apartment?

I’d wonder whether they had secrets. Or dreams. Or regrets. These days, many years later, Tully’s Coffee no longer sits on Roppongi Hills with patio chairs facing the street.

And yet, I still wonder.

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There is a website I love called The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, curated by John Koenig. Within this library, I stumbled upon the word “sonder.”

Sonder (n.) - The realization that each random passerby lives a life as vivid and complex as your own.

This is what I felt up on Roppongi Hills, sipping my coffee and watching strangers go by. Now, I spend less days in cafes and more days online. Yet on social media, and the online communities I am a part of, I feel the same.

And so, like my time at the Roppongi cafe, I wonder about people’s lives.

What is the story of that tattoo? Why that username? Are they happy?

Scrolling past profiles, it fascinates me that behind each username, behind each lovingly selected bio and picture, is a real human being with joys, problems, perspectives, and experiences.

In Chinese, the closest phrase for this is 好奇 (hàoqí), meaning “curiosity,” or “inquisitiveness.” 

好 (hào) stands for “good”
奇 (qí) means “strange” or “unusual”

Together, I like to think it means finding good in the strange. Which in hindsight, is really what curiosity means. That natural human inclination to seek knowledge or understanding.

We do this so often with the things we learn, the knowledge we accumulate. What about the people we encounter? How often are we curious about what makes them who they are?

Social media adds a new complexity, a longer peek behind the curtain. I wonder where they’ve been prior and where they are going next.

What do they read? What inspires them?
Why did they share what they shared?
What are they not sharing?
What got left behind on their cutting room floor?
What keeps them up at night?

At the same time, I also wonder what other people wonder about me, too.

The view from Tully’s Coffee in Roppongi Hills, sadly now permanently closed