Peace in my Problems

There’s a certain catharsis in relatability. It’s this weird release of tension, knowing your feelings aren’t isolated. Humans tend to love mutual validation. We watch videos of people making breakfast, strain our ears to overhear what people say about us, and develop our opinions based on their distance from popular trends. It seems tiring, seeking that release from communal selves in the continual comparison of values, yet there’s peace to be found there.

A friend recently reminded me of the concept of sonder. Sondering? To sonder? What’s the correct present form of this word? Anyway, sonder is the realization that the life of each passer-by is as vivid and complex as your own. Put short, uniqueness isn’t limited to our circle of influence. In a real sense, we’re all the same. I’ve relied on that sense of commonality as a way to destress and seek advice, but realizing that on a more holistic level is a little different. What makes shared experiences so valuable? That’s a question in the background of Play it Cool, Guys!, a manga I’ve been really vibing to recently.

2021 has been the year I’ve really dove into the world of manga. I’ve always loved reading manga, but having a new job with a new income source has really let me dive into the genre like never before. One of my favorite ways to find new manga is to hop over to my local Barnes and Noble or Books a Million and peruse the selection. I love making spontaneous, uninformed manga picks. Popping into the manga section and grabbing something that seems good without Googling it or looking it up on MyAnimeList is uniquely fun to me. Even more so when it ends up as meditative as this manga is. Composed of interlinking vignettes, Play it Cool, Guys! Follows 4 young men in various stages of life, and the way their paths cross. Trite sentence inbound: what I love about this manga is how down-to-earth it is. Each small story feels real, reminding me in a way of Inio Asano’s works, in that it focuses on exploring the effect of the mundane on the heart of the individual.

Don’t get me wrong, this story is nowhere near as melancholy or gloomy as a manga like Downfall or Goodnight Punpun. Its’ strength is in quiet introspection, the little thoughts that trip us up and ask questions. Not necessarily good or bad, but questions we need to figure out if we want to want to maintain our own peace. Which, incidentally, is the feeling I get the most from this manga. Relatable, sure. Funny, very much so. Slice of life, 100%. But overall, in reading about these different guys learning to interact and be friends, I find a lot of peace.

I’ve read significantly more manga this year than I ever have before, and that’s been due to a couple things. Wanting to enjoy stories that resonate with me, seeking out a new medium in which to enjoy good stories, but I think deeper than both of those: wanting to reconnect with a part of me that’s…younger. Or older, now that I think about it. Journeying from college to job, from childhood to adulthood, from the different phases that defined me into something new…I’ve wanted to keep track of myself. With all the changes of life happening outside of my control, there’s a certain comfort I get in returning to stories and hobbies that really resonate with me. Stuff that I’ve chosen and know that I enjoy and want to invest myself in. Manga helps me to unite both my younger and older self in a medium that, unlike traditional books, is a path I had to choose for myself. A small difference yet one that means a lot to me.

Choices matter. Yeah, I know, what a profound statement, but on a real level I find that in life it’s the small choices that make the most difference. What will I define as tacky, for myself? What makes me feel embarrassed? What is an absolute no-go as far as the food I eat? Often I think of life in broad strokes that make up huge decisions, but it’s the tiny highlights and details that bring the soul into focus. It’s what makes the idea of sonder so heartwarming, knowing that inasmuch as the vibrancy of life is shared, so too are the mundane moments. From coincidentally sitting the same way as your best friend to realizing that you and your SO both dislike green beans after 4 years together, it’s these little moments that help make our lives that much more unique, even in the midst of billions of people living similar lives. And as a person of faith? These moments help me remember that God’s love is ever-present, no matter how small or uninteresting my life might seem. And I think that’s the important part. It’s easy to lose our individuality in the bigness of life and the bigness of the world. As a freshman in college I remember asking myself “with all of these people doing the same things as me at the same place at the same time, what makes me any different?” In an interestingly paradoxical way, the fact that we all have these tiny, funny, intricate foibles makes us both relatable to those around us and uniquely ourselves in a lovingly roundabout way. We’re united in the presence of our little internal battles, yet made distinct by the ways we battle and accept those little battles. In them, we find ourselves. In them, we find our values. In them, we find our peace.