I have spent many an evening scrolling through the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.
It's a compilation of imaginary words - the best kind, of course! - that fill in the gaps the English language has yet to plug. Things like vellichor (the strange wistfulness of used bookshops) and rubatosis (the unsettling awareness of one's own heartbeat) - padding my vocabulary with made-up words is perhaps my favourite past time.
And then there's sonder.
It's defined as "the realisation that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own" - a feeling that I know I can vividly relate to. We are all stories in the end, but I think there is an exquisite kind of wistfulness in realising that we'll never have the chance to experience most of them.
And what better way to celebrate it than through music?
i. dance on our graves | paper route
ii. pantomime | ben hammersley
iii. tourist | yuna
iv. a long december | counting crows
v. flightless bird, american mouth | iron & wine
vi. small hands | keaton henson
vii. holding on & letting go | ross copperman
viii. dreams (acoustic) | fleetwood mac
ix. the weight of us | sanders bohlke
This is a mix for the tapestry of humanity - for coffee breaks, for traffic jams, for starlight winking down at two people who will never know the range of colour hiding in each other's eyes. It's a celebration of the stories we don't tell each other and the ones we've known all along - and when destiny twirls us into each other at last, when our stories collide for a blink of infinity's eye, it's a promise in melody that some stories never needed to be told. We'll know it when we see it.