What Objects Reveal: A Look into Symbolic Reality

When I was working as a door-to-door salesman, I didn’t walk into someone’s home or office just to sell. I walked in to observe. This was when I discovered the subtle interplay of symbolic reality.

While most people scanned faces and listened for objections, I looked at their surroundings: the bookshelf, the desk clutter, the art on the walls, the coffee mug, the family photos, the sports memorabilia, and even the branding symbols on their clothing. Every object was telling me something. Something about who they were, what they valued, and how they wanted to be seen.

If I paid close attention, I could see whether what I was offering would actually mean something to them… or not. And if I could speak to them in the same “language” their objects were already speaking, I had a better chance of connecting.

That was when I realized I wasn’t just reading people; I was reading their identity through the objects they surrounded themselves with. And not just the individual objects, but the overall conformity between them. Were they unified in tone? Chaotic? Symbolic? Spare? The patterns told me a story about their core identity. Over time, this practice evolved into a method for understanding human nature itself.

Our environment is full of things. But these aren’t just functional tools or decorative clutter. The objects we choose go beyond supporting our lives and into expressing them. They hold meaning, silently echoing who we are and what we care about. Sometimes even before we’re fully aware of it ourselves.

What a Chair Can Say

Take something as simple as a chair. It’s just a seat, right? But in a waiting room, it could represent status. In a dining room, it might mean togetherness. In a studio, it’s rest between acts of creativity. Same object. Different context. Different message. This can go even further with the chair’s material, design, and placement.

Objects always have layers. There’s the obvious, practical use. Then there’s the symbolic message underneath. This makes them so powerful as they exist in both the material world and the world of meaning.

The Wedding Ring Isn’t Just a Ring

So, after considering the humble chair, let’s turn our focus to a wedding ring. It’s tiny, it’s simple, and yet it carries a weight far greater than gold: commitment, love, partnership, legacy. It becomes sacred, not because of what it is, but because of what it symbolizes. We don’t feel the metal; we feel the memory, the promise, the shared identity.

That’s the magic of symbolic objects. They anchor the intangible. They give shape to the things we can’t see like loyalty, belonging, honor, pride—and make them visible, touchable, wearable.

The House and the Home

There’s also a reason we draw a line between “house” and “home.” A house is drywall, wiring, and square footage. But a home? That’s where the essential blooms into your symbolic reality. It smells like your favorite meal, sounds like your kind of music, and contains a thousand choices that reflect who you are—or who you’re becoming.

Some people arrange their space with intention. Others do it unconsciously. Either way, you can feel the difference when you walk into a home shaped by identity, instead of convenience.

Symbolic Reality and Our Being

We don’t just live around objects. We live through them. Humans are symbolic by nature. We’ve always looked beyond the surface of things, and have always needed more than just function. 

Since ancient times, we’ve infused objects with layered meaning. A crown wasn’t just metal and jewels; it was authority itself. A torch wasn’t just fire; it was knowledge. A staff wasn’t a walking stick, but divine right, or a symbol of guidance.

The ancient Egyptians built tombs lined with items to guide the soul in the afterlife. Indigenous cultures carved totems to represent ancestral spirits and sacred values. Even coins and flags—ordinary materials—carry the weight of entire nations and centuries of history. These aren’t just relics. They’re reminders of something we’ve always known: objects are never just objects. They are carriers of belief.

That’s not superstition. That’s symbolic reality.

Objects Are Living Symbols

Whether or not we realize it, the objects we choose, use, and live with become living symbols. They don’t just sit idly by, but become participants in our lives. They reflect us back to ourselves. And when they collect energy from us through our routines,  preferences, and emotions, we also become shaped by them.

This isn’t magical thinking. This is a relationship. A mirror. A loop.

You pick up a familiar coffee mug, and something in you settles. It’s not just caffeine you’re after. It’s comfort. Memory. A small ritual that reaffirms who you are today.

That’s the invisible layer of meaning that lives inside the physical. And it’s constantly shifting, depending on your state of mind, your desires, and your emotional context. In this way, the symbolic reality attached to an object becomes alive because it evolves with your consciousness.

The Phenomenological Perspective of Symbolic Reality

The dynamic of how we encounter and experience objects, and how they reveal themselves to us based on how we approach them, has a name in philosophy: phenomenology. It’s the study of lived experience. It asks, “What is it like to be with this thing? To experience it, not just observe it?”

From a phenomenological view, objects are not fixed in meaning. They “show up” in our lives in different ways, depending on how we feel, what we need, or who we think we are in that moment. A desk lamp might be a beacon of late-night focus one night and a cold symbol of burnout the next.

Phenomenology reminds us: it’s not just what a thing is. It’s how a thing feels when you engage with it. That feeling as we move into relationship with these objects is where meaning is born. So, this dynamic between us and objects isn’t passive. It’s interactive. It’s alive.

When you see the world not just as full of things, but as filled with symbols—almost sacred in their quiet significance—something shifts. The chair, the mug, the photograph, the worn book, the stone you picked up on a walk, become more than objects. They become part of a living language, a symbolic ecology, reflecting and supporting who you are.

And once you notice this, you can’t unsee it. The world feels more alive. More personal. More meaningful. Inhabiting this space—this life—suddenly seems like a sacred responsibility. One where your environment becomes not just a backdrop, but a participant in your identity. When your surroundings mirror your inner self, symbolic reality becomes connection. And in that connection, you feel more at home—in your space, in your story, and in yourself.