"It is easier to write about Socrates than about a young woman or a cook."

Writing about a philosopher like Socrates is often simpler than capturing the essence of an everyday person because philosophers come pre-packaged with rich, complex ideas that have been discussed for centuries. These ideas give writers a clear framework—historical context, established theories, and well-documented debates. In contrast, writing about a regular individual, like a young woman or a cook, requires diving into the intricacies of everyday life, which can be messy and subtle, lacking the ready-made narrative that historical figures provide.

Let's take a step back to when and why this might have been said. Imagine a time when scholars and writers were entrenched in classical studies. They were well-versed in the lives of ancient philosophers but perhaps less comfortable stepping out of that realm into the often-messy reality of contemporary life. Philosophers like Socrates provide a structured playground where ideas, debates, and conclusions are tidy and well documented. Everyday life doesn't grant that luxury—it’s raw, unpredictable, and deeply personal.

Now picture this: a writer is trying to capture the life of a young woman living in a bustling modern city. She wakes up to the annoying buzz of her alarm, rushes through her morning routine, juggles work, social life, and maybe even a side hustle. Capturing her life means getting into the nitty-gritty—her thoughts, her struggles, her joys. It involves understanding the culture she lives in, the pressures she faces, and the unique qualities that make her who she is. There’s no textbook on her life, no accumulated wisdom of scholars to draw from—it's all about piecing together the ordinary moments that make her extraordinary.

So, how can you apply this wisdom? Start by paying close attention to the people around you. Listen to their stories, observe their actions, and try to understand their perspectives. It's about empathy—putting yourself in their shoes and seeing the world through their eyes. When you write, focus on the details that make their experiences unique. Maybe it’s the way your grandmother still hums her favorite tune while cooking, or how your best friend’s laugh can light up a room even on the darkest days. These little details bring the story to life in a way that a grand philosophical concept never could.

Imagine you're at a small, cozy coffee shop. You see an older man behind the counter, brewing coffee with such care it’s as if he’s performing a delicate dance. Each step is precise, and there's a quiet joy in his eyes. He’s just a cook, right? But as you watch him, you realize there’s a whole world in his simple actions—a dedication to his craft, a love for bringing a smile to his customers' faces, perhaps a story of how he started this shop as a tribute to his late wife who loved coffee. You get curious, you ask questions, you listen. His story unfolds, and you see that writing about him isn’t just about describing a cook—it’s about capturing the essence of a life well-lived, full of love, loss, and the beauty of everyday moments.

Writing about Socrates might be easier, but writing about real people—really capturing their essence—is what brings stories to life. It’s not just about the grand ideas but finding the extraordinary in the ordinary, the philosophy in the everyday. So next time you write, think about the people you pass by daily. Their stories might be the hardest to tell, but they’re also the most rewarding.