THE ART OF PEOPLE WATCHING: A GATEWAY TO DEEPER CONNECTIONS

Sonder. “The profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one's own.” Someone, whom I deeply adore, once told me that it's ordinary to love the beautiful, however, it's beautiful to love the ordinary. I believe that there’s a certain beauty behind coming to this realization, that in the most ironic way possible, when you actively dissociate, you become more aware. In a previous article, I mentioned that “to be loved is to be seen,” and that really is what the essence and art of people watching is. I will dive deeper into this concept throughout this article in the hopes of instilling curiosity about the beauty behind human interactions. In the eyes of bystanders, we are mundane, truly irrelevant; except to those who want to understand. Understand and observe the ordinary and choose to love its existence.

Sometimes, the simplest activities hold the deepest truths. People watching is one of those gentle pastimes that unfolds the world around us in the form of a multicolored tapestry. I would best describe it as a kind of silent conversation between the observer and the observed. These emotions were best presented to me by a friend of mine who is the inspiration behind this piece. “And the most fascinating part? I’m not the only observer. Just as I’m watching others, someone out there is probably watching me too, wondering who I am, where I’m headed, what I might be carrying in my mind or heart. In this way, we’re all part of each other’s stories, even if only for a fleeting moment.”

You see a mother coaxing a smile from her toddler, a young couple immersed in laughter, her head peacefully on his shoulder, or an old man feeding pigeons, his movements slow and purposeful. These moments, simple and unremarkable, are threads in the fabric of everyday life, each one weaving empathy and understanding into our hearts; completing the tapestry.

“So many stories go unnoticed, buried beneath the noise of everyday life waiting quietly to be seen by someone willing to look a little closer.” People watching, in all its simplicity, teaches us to slow down and really see, not just look. There is a significant difference between the two that can be characterized as synonyms. One is about cultivating patience as we observe the rhythms of life around us, locating mindfulness in a raw and unfiltered moment. The other is surface level, and in a world as deep as the one we live in, we can’t afford to only look, to be surface level. Strive to be more, and start by romanticizing your surroundings. People watching is an amicable output for our chaotic lives, offering a pause that can consume us with tranquility and appreciation for the diversity of human experiences.

Stop and smell the flowers. Wave back to a stranger. Recognize beauty.

For those who create, people watching is much like gathering colors to create your palette; it’s collecting snippets of dialogue, expressions, and emotions that can later mature into art or stories to be told. There’s inspiration in the way light falls across a stranger’s face, your interpretation is the lighthouse in guiding your creative universe and casting clarity on the fog of the ordinary. Stay relentless in your pursuit in seeing beauty in everything the world has to offer. Artists and writers often find that their most authentic ideas derive from these stolen glimpses into the lives of others; fragments of humanity that bloom into meaning when nurtured by curiosity. This is exactly what I am practicing right now. It's a practice that reminds us of the shared human experience, bridging gaps between us without a word spoken. Every person holds a story tucked beneath their skin, and sometimes, the act of noticing is the most heartfelt way of listening. “It’s in moments like these that I’m reminded: every person is a world of their own, and sometimes, simply noticing them feels like the closest thing to understanding.”

It is your job to weave and unfold the multicolored tapestry.

Stop and smell the flowers.

Guest Essay

By Reem Al Zubi and Farah Saabneh

Published May 9, 2025