Fly on the Wall
Sitting in a public place amidst the ebb and flow of strangers, is like being a fly on the wall in all the best ways. It is a space where the world softens, and you find yourself an anonymous observer, untethered yet connected to the lives unfolding around you. There’s a stillness to this act—an invitation to pause and marvel at the ordinary miracles that scatter themselves across the paths of our collective humanity.
The air hums with the low melody of conversations blending with laughter, footsteps, and the occasional bark of a dog. People hurry past with purpose, their plot-lines overflowing with stories you’ll never know but can imagine. It’s fun to make up fake personalities and stories for those who pass you by. It’s a brainless sort of entertainment that allows the mind to wander and take a rest from the constant spinning of our mental wheels in the midst of school, work, and just life.
Everywhere, there is wonder. A puppy chasing the breeze, biting the air like he’s finally going to catch it this time. A small child dressed up in the most extravagant of children's clothes toddling around mesmerized by every ‘big kid’ they see. A couple on their first date, anxiously waiting for the other to say or do the one thing that reassures them this is going well.
It’s peaceful to simply be—to sit outside, enjoy the fresh air, and wait as time passes by. To witness without expectation, to sit still in a world that rarely allows for serenity and pure calm. In this unassuming moment, you become part of one of humanity’s most fundamental experiences: the quiet, unspoken connection of simply existing among others. Each passing face is a story in motion, a reminder of the depth and variety of human existence. And though these lives may never intersect with yours again, the act of observing becomes its own connection, a shared presence in the same moment.
There’s a comfort in being surrounded yet unburdened. No one asks anything of you here. The world carries on its gentle performance, and you are both spectator and participant in this natural rhythm. That within itself is a small miracle. The ability to breathe fresh air, to laugh, to smile. The ability to take a moment to appreciate experiences outside of your own. To fantasize about the lives of others without ever knowing if the story you made up about them is even remotely true. These are the little things, the little things that come with the peace of people watching.
It’s such a simple act, people-watching. But sometimes, in my experience, it provides the most internal healing. Allowing me to break away from the daily doom scroll on my phone. To silence the college student rhetoric- What internship are you going for? Where are you planning on living post-graduation? How are you studying for the midterm next week?
People watching is like being a fly on the wall in the best ways. In a world that demands so much- it’s the peace of sitting in these small, unhurried moments that allows us to appreciate the simple beauty of simply being human.