“There is a word in Korea, In-yun. It means providence or fate. But it’s specifically about relationships with people. It’s an In-yun, if two strangers even walk by in the street, and their clothes accidentally brush. Because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives.” This excerpt, from the movie Past Lives, captures something I’ve always wondered about: the unseen threads that bind us to other people.

As a child, I was deeply attuned to the mysteries of human connections. My mother once told me a strange story about the market—that not everyone there was real, and some were ghosts hidden among the living. She claimed that if I wanted to see these spirits, I should stand in the middle of the market, legs parted, and bend to look between my legs. I never tried this peculiar ritual, but the story planted a seed of wonder about the invisible layers of existence.

My belief in reincarnation grew from this childhood fascination. I began to see human connections as events that weave through the past and present. For instance, some people I meet feel immediately familiar as if our souls have known each other before. With others, there’s an inexplicable disconnect, a sense that our paths have never truly aligned.

Google defines Sonder as a profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passing in the street, has a life as complex as one’s own. This concept resonates deeply with my understanding of In-yun. It is humbling to consider that while I am the main character of my own life, I might be nothing more than a fleeting moment in someone else’s story—perhaps not even a side character, but merely a passing shadow.

The 2023 movie “Past Lives,” distributed by A24, beautifully illustrates this concept of In-yun. It tells the story of two people joined by fate, whose love remains unfulfilled despite their deep connection. They are separated by time and circumstance, meeting again only after 20 years. Their story demonstrates how life often has plans that transcend our personal desires, how the girl who sits next to you in lectures, your neighbor, or your work colleague might be part of a larger, more mysterious design.

As deeply as I am fascinated by people, I am equally intrigued by the way life works. Life chooses. Life does as life wishes. Or rather, God. There’s a thin line of fate that guides us, yet we also possess the power of choice—the ability to speak to the stranger who brushes past you or to chase down the person you love across continents. But as much as two people’s fates may be connected, bad decisions and communication problems can ruin a love that was.

Perhaps it is easier to allow fate to choose, to leave everything in the hands of a greater being. Perhaps it is simpler to let the stranger remain just a stranger. But in that moment of connection—however brief—we catch a glimpse of something greater than ourselves: the web of human experience, woven together by threads we can barely comprehend.

About the Writer

Past Lives

Shalom Tewobola is a writer that refuses to suck at life. She loves to write about film, music, and pop culture. When she’s not obsessing over cute anime men, she daydreams about winning the lottery.