Many of the most grating aspects of life in densely populated cities involve violations of personal space. They are frequently subtle. I could probably list a hundred variants that happen on the street, on the subway, at the gym, in restaurants, and on and on. The opportunities to get in someone else’s way are almost unlimited; every journey through public space is an endless stream of near-collisions and narrowly-avoided confrontations, which we barely even notice, punctuated by the occasional collision or confrontation. Existing in such an environment requires a highly refined and nuanced sense of one’s physical relationship to the immediate human environment, a complex set of rules and norms, measured in inches, that develop over time to align with everyone else’s. As with almost anything, the failures of this intricate system are much more vivid than the successful outcomes—the thousands of people who glide past us every day are subliminal, filtered from our attention ever more thoroughly as we acclimate to the city’s constant crowdedness, lest we collapse under the sensory overload. The moments of navigational failure may get our attention but it’s worth appreciating the much more frequent successes. We did it!