Have you ever experienced the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon? It’s when, after noticing something for the first time, we suddenly see it everywhere and think it is now more common than it used to be. I recently experienced a version of this effect firsthand.
It all began two weeks ago as I was browsing Sunday Studio’s website. They are a NYC-based business specializing in non-toxic nail polishes. I had already added two polish colors I owned and loved in my cart, and I wanted to find a third to qualify for free shipping. I wasn’t looking for any color in particular, but as I browsed, the No. 29 caught my eye. Described as “A modern dusty lavender infused with blue and gray undertones,” I liked how the color looked on my screen. I was nervous the color wouldn’t be as nice in person, but I ordered it anyway. When the package arrived, I eagerly tried it on. I was happy with my choice and painted all my fingers and toes with No 29.
Over the course of the next week, I began noticing this “random” color everywhere. One morning as Petr was getting ready for work, I put my hand on his shirt and noticed the nail polish color exactly matched Petr’s work shirt. We were astonished by the similarity in the color and laughed about the coincidence. The next morning, as I was having coffee, I realized my handmade coffee mug from pottery class matched my nails as well. This dusty lavender began popping up in all corners of my life: my yoga mat, shoes, clothes, brochures, and book covers. Although it wasn’t always exactly the same shade as No. 29, the frequency with which I encountered the color surprised me.
I had heard of the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon before, but it landed differently this time. I am in the middle of my yoga teacher training and have been learning a lot about mindfulness. This experience has made me reflect on my attention. Why do I tend to complain about how cold it is outside when the sun is shining, and I’m alive and well? Our life experiences are deeply influenced by our focus, and it seems we can use the Baader-Meinhof bias to our advantage—if we choose to. But that’s where it gets tricky, isn’t it? It’s not easy to give up things that are familiar, even if we see ourselves suffering from them.
Perhaps the key is to start simple, with just one thing. One color. Maybe then I will realize that No. 29 isn’t even a color in the first place, at least not in the conventional way we imagine them when we browse a catalog online. The real No. 29 on my fingernail is something that shifts depending on the room I’m in, the time of day, the objects it meets. Our understanding of color are deeply intertwined with our focus and sensory experience of the world. And there is an entire universe of colors, shapes, feelings, and experiences, awaiting our notice, ready to be discovered by those willing to pay attention.