aesthosis– n. the state of feeling trapped inside your own subjective tastes – not knowing why you find certain things beautiful or ugly, only that you do – wishing you could remove the sociopsychological lenses from your eyes so you could see the beauty in anything and be moved to tears by the smell of burning garbage, the aria of a screaming toddler, or a neon Elvis painted on black velvet.
Earlier in my life, I had stronger tastes, opinions, and judgments. Often just inside my own head, but I still had them. I might even point out to someone that I didn’t like something, regardless of whether they liked it. Often without prompting, which is a bit of a way of being a jerk for no reason.
As I’ve gotten older, I find myself less strongly moved by things. I can instead appreciate them for what they are, express curiosity why others might find them desirable or horrific, or just let the impression I have wash over me.
I got on a plane recently and there was an infant or toddler crying. For most of the flight. A few people complained around me quietly, but I could appreciate the challenge the parents were facing (and the shame or embarrassment), empathize with the little one’s fear, and really just accept this as part of the day. I wasn’t judging, just experiencing.
I had a similar experience when there was some visual thing the kids sent everyone. My wife liked it ( I assume it was a joke), but I remember not really finding it funny, but being more curious about why one kid did. I think the five of us were split on how we felt, but it was just interesting to me.
I don’t feel so trapped anymore, just interested in the world.
From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows