This morning I pull into Chevron behind a large van. I step outside, insert the pump and get back in my car. As I take survey of the customers around me, I notice the woman next to me: late 30s, bleached hair, white track suit and Gucci sunglasses. She watches a boy in his late teens, and I follow her gaze. The boy traverses the parking lot and walks in front of the van in front of me. Expecting the boy to continue walking on the van’s other side, it surprises me when he doesn’t. Said another way, he disappears behind the van and fails too reappear. And here begins the morning’s thought:
How do I know he didn’t disappear altogether? How do I know he’s still behind the van? Over the last 100,000 times that I’ve watched people disappear behind objects, I’ve not witnessed someone completely disappear. Yet. So I assume he’s still present.
A lesson we all learn in early childhood, trivial. Let’s continue. I scan my rear view mirror and notice a ton of activity behind me: cars passing by, conversations in the parking lot across the street, pedestrians walking the sidewalk. Here begins the real thought: Around us all of the time, thousands of conversations, activities and moments between strangers we cannot see occur.
What mentally construct do we use to handle this? We know life occurs around us whether we see it or not. Do we imagine this unseen world? Or do we focus entirely on the immediate world in front of us, the world that we actually see, and forget the unseen world? If we imagine the unseen world, what does it look like? For me, I pay attention to this world rarely. And when I do, it is quick and fleeting. I see a thousand identical homes without roofs. I fly over each house and peer inside. One house has a family, another has a couple arguing, the next has a man watching TV, and so on… Basically I see a page from a children’s storybook. Ask yourself: do you envision the unseen world, and if so, what does it look like?
I conclude that for most, we maintain little to no conscious vision of the unseen world. We know it exists, yet it rarely impacts our internal world. If it is not conscious, then is is unconscious? Or said another way, are we psychically aware of those around us? My suspicion, or hope, is yes. I won’t detail why I believe this except for a quick example. Of all the cities I’ve walked, Los Angeles effects me the most psychically and emotionally (with Brooklyn a close second). One Fourth of July, the entire city bubbled with joy. Sure everyone enjoyed the day off and time with family. However beyond the immediate joy stood something greater. It felt as if underneath it all, we Los Angelians knew everyone else was experiencing the same joy. The celebration reverberated and built within a massive, positive feedback loop of joy. It has one of my happiest days. And over the coming years, more Los Angelians said it was their favorite day too. Something happened that day that we all felt.
For fun, I suggest taking a few moments today and envisioning the world of people you cannot see.
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