Skip to content

Mindful Matter

In the Studio Dr. Alberts, Founder of Mindfulness X

In the Studio Dr. Alberts, Founder of Mindfulness X

David Radparvar, Holstee Co-Founder

Learn more
Freshman year friends.

Freshman year friends.

Freshman year of college was a very disorienting time for me. I was unsure, I was nervous, and I was awkward. All of the social insecurities that I thought I’d come to terms with in high school came back and this time, they were stronger than ever. One weekend, I found myself heading out to a party with a group of people from my dorm. At the time, they seemed far cooler than me. Their sneakers, their haircuts, the effortless way they laughed with one another — they seemed to have everything figured out. I felt like an imposter. I resolved to just keep up and try not to say anything that would make them realize how out of place I felt. Then someone — coincidentally also named Mike — interrupted the running dialogue in my head to say “hey”. I was so grateful. Mike then went on to tell me each person’s name and share a funny, humanizing story about them. After five minutes of talking with Mike, I felt less like an outsider. I'll never forget that night and how that one act of kindness made me feel anchored and accepted. Ever since, I have looked out for opportunities to extend this same sense of kinship to others who might be feeling like outsiders.You’d be surprised how little it takes and how much it means to simply show someone that they too belong. Mike RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee 👉  Dive deeper into Kinship and the relationships that have played a formative role in your life with your Kinship Guide [Member Content].

Learn more
Black and white photo of a crowded subway — passengers each absorbed in their own world, evoking sonder

Sonder: The Word for Realizing Every Stranger Has Their Own Story

I love words that perfectly capture a feeling or experience (as you may remember from past Reflections on Arete, Mokusu, Kintsugi, and Shokunin Kishitsu). A few years ago, Julia — a member of the Holstee community in Austria — reminded me of another such word: sonder. It's stayed with me ever since. What Does "Sonder" Mean? Sonder (noun) — the realization that every stranger you pass is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. Every person in the crowded train car, every driver in the next lane, every face in the background of your morning — each is the main character of a story as full, as messy, and as specific as yours. Sonder is the quiet jolt of remembering that. Pronunciation: SON-der — rhymes with "ponder." First syllable stressed. The Full Definition (from the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows) The definition that gives me goosebumps every time I read it is John Koenig's original, from his Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: sonder n. 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. Read it slowly. It rewards a slow read. The "lighted window at dusk" line alone does more work than most paragraphs of philosophy. Where Did the Word "Sonder" Come From? Sonder was coined by John Koenig in 2012 for his Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, a project that invents new words for feelings that exist but don't have names. The Dictionary started as a blog, grew into a YouTube channel with millions of views, and was published as a book by Simon & Schuster in 2021. Koenig's stated goal for each entry is to "fill a hole in the language." Here's how he put it: 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. All words in this dictionary are new. They were not necessarily intended to be used in conversation, but to exist for their own sake; to give a semblance of order to a dark continent, so you can settle it yourself on your own terms, without feeling too lost — safe in the knowledge that we're all lost. Etymology. The word is a constructed coinage, but it draws on two existing roots that give it the sound it needs: In German, sonder means "special" or "apart" — as in sonderbar ("peculiar") or Sonderfall ("special case") In French, sonder is a verb meaning "to probe, to fathom, to plumb the depths" — as in sonder l'âme ("to probe the soul") The English word blends both senses: the feeling of suddenly perceiving that something apart from you is unexpectedly deep. How the Word Feels in Daily Life Sonder isn't a feeling you go looking for. It arrives. A few places people describe feeling it most strongly: Standing on a balcony at night, watching the windows of an apartment building light up one by one, each one a different person's evening. Sitting in an airport, realizing the 2,000 people around you are each about to fly toward someone, or away from something, that matters to them the way yours matters to you. Scrolling through a crowd of faces in an old photo and realizing every single person in the frame had a full interior life — and all of them are gone now, and none of them knew you'd be looking. Reading the name of a stranger on a gravestone and feeling, briefly, the weight of a life you'll never know anything about. Using it in a sentence: "Sitting in the crowded train station, I felt a sudden wave of sonder — every face around me on their way to something that mattered to them as much as mine did to me." This is what people sometimes call the "sonder effect" — the momentary vertigo of stepping outside your own story and noticing that you are a minor character, or a setting element, in thousands of other stories unfolding at the same time. Why the Word Resonates The definition gives me goosebumps every time I read it. It's such a concise and beautiful way to describe a reality I too often forget. It's easy to experience life from the lens of our own eyes, with ourselves at the center of our narrative. But we are, of course, part of everyone else's stories as well — and these stories are deeply intertwined and interconnected. In subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle ways, we influence the trajectories of the people around us: those we have yet to meet, and even those we will never get the chance to encounter. That's the shift sonder is asking for. Not to feel smaller. To feel accurately placed — one node in a network, rather than the center of the universe. The center-of-the-universe version is exhausting. The node version is oddly freeing. And once you feel it, you tend to be kinder. Which may be the whole point. Kinship — The Reason We Keep Coming Back to Words Like This At Holstee, kinship is the catch-all theme we use for exploring all types of relationships. Words like sonder, kintsugi, and arete keep pulling us back because they give us language for experiences we all have but rarely name — and naming something is the first step to living it more deliberately. Whether you realize it or not, you play a part in an endlessly-unfolding story. Not only that — you are writing your own script for it. Make it a good one. Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee If this post resonated, a few ways to keep the thread going: Our Reflection Cards are built around prompts that invite you to step outside your own narrative for a few minutes at a time — the way sonder does. The original Holstee Manifesto started as a reminder to live as the main character of a story worth telling. It pairs well with sonder's reminder that everyone else is doing the same. The Flourishing Life is our membership community for people who want to practice this kind of attention in regular conversation with others who are too.

Learn more
5 Things We Learned About Kinship this Month

5 Things We Learned About Kinship this Month

Jennifer Lioy, Creative and Community Lead at Holstee

Learn more
Be the light and feel the warmth.

Be the light and feel the warmth.

“In many types of relationships as I was growing up, I always had a hunch that I was too something for people: too loud, too sensitive, too quiet, too serious, too silly. It took years to realize that true kinship doesn’t make you feel like you need to make yourself less, nor does it make you feel like you’re not significant.” — Mari Andrew Mari Andrews is a writer and illustrator based in NYC. She is also the artist behind this month’s Kinship Art. Through thoughtful whimsy, Mari’s work communicates wonderful nuggets of personal reflection and wisdom that are both thought-provoking and relatable. The art she submitted for our theme of Kinship is no different: When I looked at this illustration for the first time, it prompted me to reflect on the relationships in my life. I thought about the ones that are based on a deep sense of admiration, respect and desire to support one another. And, perhaps more importantly, I critically considered the role I play in my relationships with others. I am sure I have unintentionally played the role of a cloud when I could have been a supporting sun.How do your relationships compare to the ones in this month’s illustration? Who casts a shadow on your light? In what ways can you bring more warmth to the people around you?Be the light and feel the warmth, Dave RadparvarCo-Founder, Holstee P.S. We sold out of the Kinship Art and Guides waaaaay faster than we expected. Every month we send the art along with the printed guide to all of our members, and offer the remaining on our site. This month we sold out in less than a week. If you aren't yet, become a member today to make sure you get next months Wellness Guide and Art delivered!

Learn more
In The Studio With Mari Andrew

In The Studio With Mari Andrew

Jennifer Lioy, Creative and Community Lead

Learn more
In One's Own Way

In One's Own Way

Shahnaz Radjy, Writer

Learn more
The Grief Café

The Grief Café

Mark Liebenow, Writer

Learn more
The Ones That Help Us Thrive

The Ones That Help Us Thrive

Jocelyn M. Ulevicus, Writer

Learn more