Earlier this month, I wrote about the Westside Market in my blog Being Home and about how the different cultures of the market influenced my desire to travel. It’s become somewhat of a tradition for my family to visit a local market when we travel. Fortunately, Montreal has six, so I have plenty of overpriced produce to shop for.
All jokes aside, markets bring me a sense of peace that I don’t experience anywhere else. The closest people in my life often make fun of me for my love of grocery stores and supermarkets, but I won’t deny that I adore them. I especially love going to groceries alone, because I can just wander aimlessly and pick up weird foods for as long as I want.
I believe it comes down to a sense of individuality within a public space. Grocery stores and markets are wide open and full of people, but those people are all there for a similar but slightly unique experience. That dichotomy in-and-of-itself is what draws me into markets. I like knowing that everyone is there to buy their groceries, but I wonder what meal they will make or who is coming over to their apartment for dinner that night. I often stop to think about each individual that passes by me and wonder what thought propels their feet forward. What motivates them to continue throughout their day.
There’s a word for it: sonder. It sounds sad, and sometimes it may be, but I find it is more often a feeling of relation and understanding. It reminds me that our differences are truly the only thing that can unite us.