Same Space, Different Experiences
The Marketplace We Share
How is it possible to exist in the same spaces as the people around us, and yet have entirely different experiences? A group text among friends this week, discussing current events, revealed a stark difference… while many in the group discussed a major headline in recent news, another friend chimed in, “I have no idea what you all are talking about.” The text thread evolved into a comparison of social media feeds, and the difference was fascinating. While this group of friends is in the same season of life career-wise and family-wise, and many share similar values and interests, our social media feeds look different. We are each seeing the things that we want to see (or at least the things internet algorithms think we want to see…) We are living in the same spaces, and yet we are likely experiencing the world around us on completely different terms.
This difference in perspectives reminds me of an adventure my husband and I shared years ago while visiting Greece. We strolled through the open market, newlyweds hand in hand. His eyes sparkled as he looked around and saw incredible culinary potential. The most pure, fresh, fine ingredients surrounded us. He was like a kid in a candy store, all senses firing as he could practically taste the gourmet recipes that awaited him.
My senses were also on overdrive, but not in the best way. My stomach churned at the smells. My eyes cringed at the sight of fresh animal carcasses hanging behind the meat counters, blood still splattered on the butchers’ white aprons. The sounds of the market humming around me were suddenly deafening. My heart pounded, the world around me spinning, and suddenly I sprinted. I ran as fast as I could, without warning, not even knowing which direction my legs were carrying me. All I knew is I had to get out of there before the walls closed in on me (or before my growing nausea became a visible display for those around me.)
As I zig zagged through the crowded market and emerged suddenly out into the open air, my lungs felt like they could burst. I stumbled across the cobblestone street and flung myself to my knees, in a green patch of grass, willing my body to cooperate.
We were on our honeymoon, a dreamy Grecian getaway, and I’d happily agreed to an afternoon stroll through the Athens marketplace. I’d romanticized the authentic experience of shopping for the freshest ingredients, but I hadn’t expected THAT. Now, here I was, in the middle of a foreign city, surrounded by thousands of people, with no idea where my new husband was or how he might react to my bolting.
I’m happy to report that he did eventually wander outside into the open air and found me happily surrounded by mounds of Kalamata olives, barrels of fresh feta cheese, and baskets overflowing with colorful produce. He asked about my experience. He listened to my perspective. And then, without making me feel like I had overreacted, he sat with me. We had the most delightful spontaneous picnic right there on the grass.
But how on earth had we both been walking through the EXACT same environment and had such completely different experiences?! Was he right for delighting in the finest cuts of meat as he imagined what he could cook with them? Was I wrong for having a panic attack and full body reaction to the sights and smells of that same place?
Nearly 15 years from that incident, I still sometimes think about it. I think about how he, with a love of cooking and creating culinary masterpieces, looked at the best cuts of meat and only saw their potential. I think about how I, with a predisposed cringe factor for raw meat, could only see the makings of a horror film in that maze of butcher stands.
If two people can walk through the same marketplace and have vastly different experiences, it should come as no surprise that the same can be true in our homes, our churches, our group texts, and our social feeds.
Social media is like a modern day town square or marketplace. Everyone is milling about, and there is a lot of noise. It’s really not earth shattering if your social media feed does not contain the same lymphatic draining videos as your friend Amy or the same dog videos as your friend Liz… but it might be relevant that we are all forming opinions about each other based on our algorithms in this “marketplace” of our modern world. We may be assuming a shared perspective where there is none. We may be dividing over experiences that we don’t even recognize are different.
We are not all seeing the same things. We are not all responding from the same lived experiences. However, we can choose what kind of people we want to be in the marketplace.
We can be people who run away from the hard things…or people who find our way back to each other in the midst of chaos.
We can assume the worst about each other…or we can learn to ask better questions.
We can defend our own perspective… or we can stay long enough to be curious about someone else’s.
When we assume someone should be reacting the exact same way we are, we quietly build walls. We find ourselves in an echo chamber where we are surrounded by walls of judgement, superiority, or dismissal.
Maybe the goal isn’t to curate a social feed that proves we are right. Maybe the goal isn’t to sprint away from each other when the noise of our differences overwhelms us.
Fifteen years later, I’m still grateful that my husband came looking for me in that Greek marketplace, without assuming that I was being irrational. We found each other in the middle of the chaos, and we shared a meal on the grass.
Maybe that’s what love looks like in the midst of this modern marketplace we find ourselves in. Not controlling the noise. Not assuming each other’s experiences. Instead, what if we just keep finding each other - and making room?
What if we are simply brave enough to stay, curious enough to listen?
It’s simply Sunday,
-Dr. Peek