This is water (or) Sonder
This article comes with twofold inspiration- a word from Obscure Sorrows and David Wallace's famous commencement speech titled 'This is water'. I would highly encourage you to read This is Water, if you haven't already. (Link in P.S)
Sonder- everyone has a story
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
.
Our life is a first person story. It is centered around us, and everyone and everything else is relative to our own self, including all our experiences. This is our default setting. Several times, in taking on this perspective, we look at other people as two-dimensional creatures--their lives seem straightforward and devoid of complexity to us. Sonder is the realization that everyone we see, including that innocuous passerby, has a life filled with intricate details, just as complex as our own.
Sonder has made me look at the world differently. It has stopped me from oversimplifying others' lives just because I do not know the details of their story. This is water goes a step further; it asks of you: Now that you possess this piece of information, how do you choose to look at the world? How do you draw meaning from what you experience? What details do you pay attention to? In essence, it is about what you choose to think. Wallace gives an example of shopping in a supermarket to answer these questions. I will, instead, give you a personal story.
Crossing roads in Bangalore, especially during peak hours, is a near impossible task for a pedestrian. Inevitably, there are a bunch of people trying to cross a busy road, stepping forward every few seconds, and then darting back to the safety of the footpath at the insistent horn of the drivers who refuse to stop and are frustrated by these "idiots" trying to cross amidst dense traffic. After a few such failed attempts, the gathering reaches critical mass, and crosses the road as one, effectively blocking traffic.
I used to carpool with my husband on the drive home many such evenings. The first time(and every other time), he stopped when he saw a couple of pedestrians trying to cross the road. They were so surprised that it took them a few seconds to process that someone stopped for them. They smiled in gratitude and proceeded to cross. It was a small gesture of kindness, but it amazed me that he could think differently from all the other frustrated drivers on the road. That he could see the world beyond his own struggles of having had a tiring day and wanting to get home as soon as possible in the despicable traffic. That he could relate to the pedestrians' despair of trying to cross a road for five minutes and empathize with it. That he could put aside his lens of self, and see the world through someone else's eyes: He didn't see the pedestrians as hindrances in his way, and instead saw the other way round. The gesture was small indeed, but the thought process behind it is worthy of emulation. He had just drawn meaning from the mundane routine of driving back home in rush hour traffic. He had chosen to worship at the altar of kindness. The experience was now about that moment of connection for him. He had managed to see and experience something different from everyone else inhabiting the very same reality.
Quoting from This is Water: "If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down."
Life is about these choices that confront us, day in and day out. To be aware enough that there are multiple versions of reality, if only we deign to shift our perspective and look from another's lens. Maybe we are not wise or patient enough to give the other person the benefit of doubt every single time. But it is this that differentiates us as human beings. Whether we try enough to tweak those default settings that are hardwired in us.
As Wallace says, we should repeatedly tell ourselves: This is water. This water. :)
P.S:
This is water
Transcript and audio: https://fs.blog/2012/04/david-foster-wallace-this-is-water/
Obscure sorrows
Transcript and video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkoML0_FiV4
Sonder- everyone has a story
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
.
Our life is a first person story. It is centered around us, and everyone and everything else is relative to our own self, including all our experiences. This is our default setting. Several times, in taking on this perspective, we look at other people as two-dimensional creatures--their lives seem straightforward and devoid of complexity to us. Sonder is the realization that everyone we see, including that innocuous passerby, has a life filled with intricate details, just as complex as our own.
Sonder has made me look at the world differently. It has stopped me from oversimplifying others' lives just because I do not know the details of their story. This is water goes a step further; it asks of you: Now that you possess this piece of information, how do you choose to look at the world? How do you draw meaning from what you experience? What details do you pay attention to? In essence, it is about what you choose to think. Wallace gives an example of shopping in a supermarket to answer these questions. I will, instead, give you a personal story.
Crossing roads in Bangalore, especially during peak hours, is a near impossible task for a pedestrian. Inevitably, there are a bunch of people trying to cross a busy road, stepping forward every few seconds, and then darting back to the safety of the footpath at the insistent horn of the drivers who refuse to stop and are frustrated by these "idiots" trying to cross amidst dense traffic. After a few such failed attempts, the gathering reaches critical mass, and crosses the road as one, effectively blocking traffic.
I used to carpool with my husband on the drive home many such evenings. The first time(and every other time), he stopped when he saw a couple of pedestrians trying to cross the road. They were so surprised that it took them a few seconds to process that someone stopped for them. They smiled in gratitude and proceeded to cross. It was a small gesture of kindness, but it amazed me that he could think differently from all the other frustrated drivers on the road. That he could see the world beyond his own struggles of having had a tiring day and wanting to get home as soon as possible in the despicable traffic. That he could relate to the pedestrians' despair of trying to cross a road for five minutes and empathize with it. That he could put aside his lens of self, and see the world through someone else's eyes: He didn't see the pedestrians as hindrances in his way, and instead saw the other way round. The gesture was small indeed, but the thought process behind it is worthy of emulation. He had just drawn meaning from the mundane routine of driving back home in rush hour traffic. He had chosen to worship at the altar of kindness. The experience was now about that moment of connection for him. He had managed to see and experience something different from everyone else inhabiting the very same reality.
Quoting from This is Water: "If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down."
Life is about these choices that confront us, day in and day out. To be aware enough that there are multiple versions of reality, if only we deign to shift our perspective and look from another's lens. Maybe we are not wise or patient enough to give the other person the benefit of doubt every single time. But it is this that differentiates us as human beings. Whether we try enough to tweak those default settings that are hardwired in us.
As Wallace says, we should repeatedly tell ourselves: This is water. This water. :)
P.S:
This is water
Transcript and audio: https://fs.blog/2012/04/david-foster-wallace-this-is-water/
Obscure sorrows
Transcript and video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkoML0_FiV4
So beautiful! I haven't read this book, but the passages you quoted are awe-inspiring. It reminds me of a Japanese fortune I picked up from a temple in Tokyo. The words were similar. How do I share a picture here? Ummm...it said "be like water and let it flow." I will share the image on LinkedIn
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading! That sounds interesting-I will check out your share on Linkedin.
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