What a question. Should I try? I’ll try. But I am just a person so don’t hold me to any of this.
There are a few assumptions in your question. Namely 1) there is a world, and 2) there is such a thing as happening which is going on in it. Pretty safe assumptions I think. Maybe it’s all a dream, maybe we are in the Matrix and can’t trust the reality we experience with our senses, etc. But let’s pretend we can meaningfully discuss what we experience without falling into radical skepticism, which can be addressed with another question some other time.
Okay, that’s out of the way.
Now, the world.
According to the most recent World Bank numbers, in 2016 the world human population was 7.442 billion. That is a lot to wrap the mind around. For sense of scale, one popular image is if you laid 1 billion golf balls next to each other, it would reach all the way around the earth. Metaphorically, if each person was one golf ball, you could make 7.442 laps around the earth with golf balls.
(You’ll notice my answer assumes that human life is important, and quantifying it, in an albeit simple way, helps us to understand something about its nature.)
Now, imagine your own life and its complexity. Think of all the brief and fleeting moments of insight you’ve experienced, and of your profoundest moments of joy, and your deepest times of sadness. The drama of life. Imagine and feel what it’s like to be in your own head. What beauty! What tragedy, surely, you’ve experienced. You have had dreams both realized and lost. Think of all those lost dreams and how much they mean. It is almost impossible to think about.
Now that you are trying the impossible anyway, extrapolate, for imagination’s sake, your inner world and how much that means to you almost 8 billion times over. Every person you see and don’t see. Think of it: you will never interact with 99.9999% of people who exist. That means the amount of people we have time to observe while we’re alive, both in physical life and through TV screens, radios, internet etc.—any scientist will tell you—is not a meaningful enough sample size to demonstrate anything about its nature. Not even close. That means, even with the help of technology, you have not interacted with or hardly observed even every type of person, let alone every unique perspective. No single individual, by the time they are born and then die, even scratches the surface.
You’re attempting two impossible things, why not three? Imagine all the people you will never meet, from Bangladesh to Lincoln, Nebraska, and not only them and their impossible-to-conceive-of inner lives but also their histories. Each one’s existence is so improbable it can hardly be stated in words. All their ancestors avoiding death by starvation or disease or war or bad teeth before they had the chance to procreate. And not everyone procreated. But once procreation takes place, the job is far from over. Until recently it’s estimated that a sizable percentage of human babies died in infancy. Babies are born incredibly vulnerable to the world around them. They need constant care and attention. It takes a good many personal and physical resources to raise them into self-sufficient adults. It’s hard enough in the 21st century. Imagine raising a baby in a cave surrounded by predators or in a poorly insulated thatched hut.
But even this doesn’t take into account the improbability of life before it occurs. Of the human females that are lucky enough to be born, each starts off with 2 million eggs. The vast majority of these eggs (about 90%) die off by the time a woman reaches the age of 30. And of course very few are ever fertilized.
But let’s pretend our hypothetical person has won the genetic and probabilistic lottery, and is not only born, but is raised to some level of maturity. This is nothing short of an actual physical miracle.
This hypothetical person was born on one of the few planets which is just the right distance from a star providing enough heat and light for life to take place. The odds of this happening are smaller than anything aforementioned. Scientists have no idea how big the universe is, or its shape. Some hypothesize that it goes on forever. So even at the first and largest stage of predictability, we are working with nearly infinite improbability of life ever taking place.
But just suppose that it does. Miracle! Yay, a person is born:
A human is a weird sort of thing. It is clear a human is in part biological. We are made up of cells, each of which must function properly (or we die). We sort of know what cells are made of (atoms), but even our idea of that is fuzzy. It’s been demonstrated with relative clarity that atoms have even smaller parts (subatomic particles), but science has not been able to help us much further beyond this level of divisibility. Whereby the smallest known level of life is the cell, the greatest level seems to be the ‘society,’— a large group of biological organisms, namely humans, interacting and living next to one another, and doing things.
As we discussed, a human also is effected by other humans around them in their own society. Not everything we do is a completely random arbitrary thing. This probably has something to do with the human brain, which can observe the world around itself and take on characteristics external to itself. This is basically a mysterious process.
So a human is biological and social, but there are surely other factors which have yet to be explored and taken into account. Take for instance the real complexity of the human brain, which is the most physically complex structure in the known universe:
From what we’ve been able to gather, the human brain is also the only known structure in the universe that has made an attempt to understand itself. What this means, we can hardly guess. But any answer we receive would have to come from the brain. You see the problem.
Did I mention there are an estimated 10 quintillion (10,000,000,000,000,000,000) bugs in the world?