Tuesday is my “Lunch and Learn” day, typically involving a trip to my local library to drop off books I’ve completed and pick up new ones that are available on my hold list. As a long-time user of library facilities, it’s not a surprise that I would read a book about libraries!
Famed across the known world, jealously guarded by private collectors, built up over centuries, destroyed in a single day, ornamented with gold leaf and frescoes, or filled with bean bags and children’s drawings – the history of the library is rich, varied, and stuffed full of incident.
In The Library; A Fragile History, historians Andrew Pettegree and Arthur der Weduwen introduce us to the antiquarians and philanthropists who shaped the world’s great collections, trace the rise and fall of literary tastes, and reveal the high crimes and misdemeanors committed in pursuit of rare manuscripts. In doing so, they reveal that while collections themselves are fragile, often falling into ruin within a few decades, the idea of the library has been remarkably resilient as each generation makes- and remakes -the institution anew.
Beautifully written and deeply researched, The Library is essential reading for book lovers, collectors, and anyone who has ever gotten blissfully lost in the stacks.
The Library: A Fragile History by Andrew Pettegree delves into the rich and complex evolution of libraries throughout history. Pettegree skillfully navigates the cultural, social, and technological shifts that have shaped these institutions. The book explores the profound impact of libraries on societies, emphasizing their role as repositories of knowledge and catalysts for intellectual progress.
Pettegree traces the origins of libraries from ancient civilizations to the present day, highlighting key moments of transformation and adaptation. The narrative captures the challenges libraries faced, such as political upheavals, wars, and technological advancements, and how they managed to survive and thrive amidst these changes.
One notable aspect of the book is its attention to the people behind the libraries, from dedicated librarians to visionary leaders who shaped the destiny of these institutions. Pettegree effectively weaves together historical anecdotes, providing a comprehensive and engaging account of the library’s journey.
As a voracious reader with a keen interest in history, I really appreciated the detailed exploration of the evolution of libraries and their pivotal role in preserving and disseminating knowledge. Pettegree’s thorough research and insightful analysis provided detailed explanations and appreciation for good arguments.
Overall, The Library: A Fragile History offers a compelling narrative that aligns with my interests in history and books. It serves as a valuable addition to my reading list, providing a nuanced perspective on the enduring significance of libraries across different eras.
Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.
During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.
It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.
The essence of our vision is quite simple: that we may receive the love of Jesus so deeply into our lives that it propels us to love God and our neighbors with all of ourselves, thus sharing the good news of Jesus with each person who is among us.
Keith Wasserman
According to the authors, our acts of love and generosity help us become more like the one who has welcomed us, and they are powerful expressions of our faith, humanity, and identity.
Ephesians 2:8-10 says that we are “created for good works.” That helps us understand why we often feel good when we do good things. It is because we are most complete, most fulfilled, when we are being who we were meant to be.
For over forty years, the community of Good Works, Inc., has shared life with its neighbors in rural southeastern Ohio, a region with high poverty rates and remarkably resilient people. Offering friendship to those without a support network and shelter, care, and community to people without homes, those involved with Good Works have made it their mission to embody the gospel in innovative ways. What insights can be gleaned from Good Works, and how might these lessons be applied to our own communities and churches?
Keith Wasserman, the founder and executive director of Good Works, and Christine Pohl, a scholar of hospitality who has written extensively on church and mission, explore challenging insights from the story of Good Works and how it has grown over the years into a unique expression of discipleship in the body of Christ. At the heart of this community’s story are connection and mutuality. Good Works functions not as a charity or social service agency but as a place where everyone has the opportunity to both serve and be served. And although worship is a central paradigm for life at Good Works, Keith and the leaders of the community regularly partner with non-Christians from all walks of life who desire to help.
Christians who hunger for life-giving involvement in their local communities – wherever they might be, and in whichever circumstances – will find inspiration and guidance in this quiet but powerful Appalachian ministry. Short prayers and questions for reflection at the end of each chapter make Good Works a book to be studied and shared among those who know that love of God and neighbor is the starting point, but who aren’t sure where to go from there.
The authors have documented the following five themes that have emerged from the Good Works community over the years:
Worship – Worship is at the heart of discipleship, service and community.
Integrity – A strong commitment to integrity means that how they do what They do is crucial.
Perspective – Understandings and commitments are fundamentally shaped by what we allow ourselves to see and experience, where we locate ourselves, and which sets of lenses we use to gain clarity of vision.
Friendship – Forming relationships with people who are different from ourselves allows us to understand God’s kingdom in fresh ways.
Leadership – Reflections on leadership from within community can offer important guidance and correction.
Earlier this year, I introduced you to the concept of Building Bridges to Your Neighbors. The intent was to learn how to build bridges of hospitality from your members’ homes to their neighbors.
Featured in that article was a TeamUP (Auxano’s eBook series) called Bringing Hospitality Home: Helping the People BE the Church Everyday. (you can download a copy here).
During the original research and writing, I came across so much good material that we couldn’t use because we wanted to keep the TeamUP short. So I developed a series of seven short TeamUP+ documents – one for each of the seven main points in the original TeamUP.
We know it when when we feel it, and we know it when we see it, but presence is hard to define. On the other hand, most of us are quite good at describing the lack of it.
Amy Cuddy
Presence arises from a sense of personal empowerment, enabling us to be deeply connected with our authentic selves. In this psychological state, we can maintain a strong presence even in the midst of highly stressful situations that typically lead to distraction and a feeling of powerlessness. When we experience presence, our speech, facial expressions, postures, and movements seamlessly align, creating a synchronized and focused demeanor. This internal harmony is not only tangible but also resonant because it reflects our genuine selves. The pursuit of presence is not about cultivating charisma, extraversion, or meticulously managing the impressions we make on others. Instead, it revolves around fostering an authentic, powerful connection within ourselves.
This type of presence is achievable through gradual changes. There’s no need for extensive pilgrimages, profound spiritual revelations, or complete inner transformations – while these are valid pursuits, they can seem overwhelming, abstract, and idealistic to many. Instead, let’s concentrate on moments – a state of psychological presence that endures just long enough to guide us through challenging situations where the stakes are high, such as job interviews, tough conversations, idea pitches, seeking assistance, public speaking, and similar scenarios.
True presence is about the ordinary and the everyday; it’s accessible to everyone. The key is learning how to summon that presence, especially during life’s critical moments when it tends to elude us.
In the context of modern elders seeking to be truly present to others, the concept of presence aligns with the idea of being fully engaged, attentive, and authentic in interpersonal interactions. Here are some key aspects to consider:
Mindfulness and Awareness: Modern elders aiming to be present prioritize mindfulness and self-awareness. This involves consciously focusing on the current moment, setting aside distractions, and being fully attuned to the person or situation at hand. By cultivating mindfulness, modern elders can create meaningful connections and contribute more effectively to the well-being of others.
Active Listening: Being present also involves active listening. Modern elders strive to genuinely understand others by listening with empathy, suspending judgment, and responding thoughtfully. This not only fosters better communication but also demonstrates respect for the perspectives of those around them.
Authenticity and Vulnerability: Modern elders seek to be authentically themselves in the presence of others. This involves embracing vulnerability, sharing personal experiences, and being open about one’s own journey. Authenticity enhances trust and creates a supportive environment for learning and growth.
Cultivating Emotional Intelligence: Presence extends to emotional intelligence, where modern elders are attuned to their own emotions and those of others. By navigating emotions effectively, they can foster positive relationships and provide meaningful support to younger generations.
Balancing Technology and Human Connection: Modern elders are mindful of the role of technology in their lives and its potential to create mental clutter. They actively manage their digital presence, ensuring that technology enhances rather than hinders their ability to connect with others on a deeper level.
Time Management: Being present also involves effective time management. Modern elders prioritize their commitments, creating space for quality interactions with others. This may involve setting boundaries, delegating tasks, and focusing on activities that align with their values and goals.
Continuous Learning and Adaptability: The concept of being present extends to a mindset of continuous learning. Modern elders remain curious, embracing new ideas and perspectives. This adaptability allows them to connect with younger generations and stay relevant in a rapidly evolving world.
By embodying these principles of presence, modern elders can fulfill their role as mentors and guides, providing valuable support and wisdom to younger individuals while creating a positive and enriching environment for mutual growth and learning.
And of course I’ve got a bookshelf of resources related to Presence that I’m working through. They will be appearing in future Wednesday Weekly Reader posts.
A recent experience by my wife and I highlighted the always present question when you need to go to a new place – how do I get there from here?
Going to the hospital – as a patient, family member, or even just to visit someone – is almost always guaranteed to make you uneasy when it comes to finding your way to your destination. Hospitals are typically complex, multilevel facilities – often built over a span of decades, which means they may have multiple entrances, building styles, and floor levels.
How do you help people find their way in a hospital – or in any other place – or in YOUR place?
People throughout history have gravitated to town centers, market squares, and public places to buy and sell products. Even houses of worship, once set apart as a literal sanctuary from the fray, now sit side by side with busy commercial centers, libraries, schools, restaurants, and residential complexes.
Over time, cities, spaces, complexes and buildings fill up with information, markers, and symbols. Sometimes the results are helpful, but the effect can also be ugly or chaotic, or both. The challenge is to enhance a space – public, commercial, or private – by finding order in chaos without destroying character.
Enter wayfinding.
Great wayfinding systems employ explicit signs and information as well as implicit symbols and landmarks that together communicate with accuracy and immediacy. Over the last thirty years, wayfinding design has matured to become an essential component of buildings and spaces, helping make sense of a sometimes overwhelming task: getting from here to there.
Wayfinding design provides guidance and the means to help people feel at ease in their surroundings.
David Gibson, The Wayfinding Handbook
Where am I? What can I do here? Where can I go from here? How do I get out of here?
Consciously or not, we ask such questions every day as we navigate the places and spaces of our lives.
Whether we find ourselves in a museum, hospital, airport, mall, or street in an unfamiliar city, we depend on systems of visual, audible, and tactile cues not only to lead the way, but also to keep us safe. They are the fundamental questions of wayfinding – a process that encompasses both the experience of choosing a path within a built environment and the set of design elements that aid in such a decision.
Not long ago, the professional practice of wayfinding design simply involved devising sign systems. Today, the field is much broader and continues to expand to address technological developments – kinetic media, GPS systems, web connectivity, smart materials – as well as cultural changes in areas such as branding and environmental awareness. Similarly, a cross-disciplinary familiarity with graphic, architectural, landscape, interior, industrial, and information design has become an essential requirement of twenty-first-century wayfinding design.
The Wayfinding Handbook by professional wayfinding designer David Gibson draws on more than thirty years of experience collaborating with architects, planners, developers, managers, and civic leaders to offer an insider’s view of this rapidly evolving discipline. Using real-life examples, Gibson illustrates the way type, color, mapmaking, dimensional forms, material selection, and new media are used to create effective wayfinding systems.
The Wayfinding Handbook is a complete guide to the discipline, from planning and design to practical considerations, such as setting up teams and managing projects. “Other Voices” sidebars, presented throughout the book, reveal the opinions of experts who plan, manage, and shape wayfinding projects. A comprehensive bibliography and gallery of resources round out what is likely to become the go-to resource for students, professionals, or anyone charged with designing peoplefriendly, universally accessible environments.
The Wayfinding Handbook by David Gibson is a comprehensive guide that delves into the intricate art of wayfinding – the science and design of helping people navigate through spaces efficiently. The book covers various aspects of this field, providing insights into signage, environmental cues, and user experience.
Gibson starts by exploring the historical evolution of wayfinding, tracing its roots and development over time. He then delves into the psychology of navigation, emphasizing the importance of understanding how individuals perceive and interpret spatial information. The author skillfully combines theory with practical applications, offering a well-rounded approach suitable for both novices and professionals in design, architecture, and urban planning.
One notable strength of the book lies in its inclusion of case studies and real-world examples, illustrating successful wayfinding solutions and analyzing their effectiveness. This practical dimension enhances the reader’s understanding and provides valuable insights for implementing similar strategies in diverse contexts.
Gibson’s writing style is accessible, making complex concepts in wayfinding easily understandable. The book is highly organized, progressing logically from foundational principles to advanced topics. Each chapter builds upon the previous, creating a cohesive learning experience.
As someone deeply interested in hospitality and the user experience, I appreciated how The Wayfinding Handbook aligned with my passion for creating welcoming environments. The book not only addresses the functional aspects of wayfinding but also recognizes its role in enhancing the overall experience of spaces, especially with respect to all things hospitality.
In conclusion, The Wayfinding Handbook by David Gibson is a valuable resource for anyone involved in the design and use of physical spaces. Its blend of theory, practical examples, and a user-centric approach makes it a recommended read for professionals and enthusiasts alike.
Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.
During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.
It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.
Faith formation is connected to and increases with hospitality. Households that regularly host non-family guests are more likely to talk about faith, pray, or read the Bible together.
Barna
Barna studies have revealed much about the state of religion in the United States an how faith is perceived and discussed in public. But what about how faith is being nurtured in private – with the spouses, children, parents, roommates, and even frequent visitors who spend time under our roofs?
How Christians order their days and connect with relatives and housemates is a critical aspect of spiritual growth. Households of Faith, the second in a series of studies produced in partnership with Lutheran Hour Ministries, presents a vivid portrait of the domestic lives of U.S. practicing Christians, including:
An overview of modern living arrangements and the relationships that define them
Details of housemates’ regular interactions – practical, recreational, and spiritual
Insights about relationships that have a positive and enduring influence on housemates
Analysis of how faith heritage is linked to beliefs and rituals in adulthood
Interviews with experts in elder, family, and youth ministry about reaching a variety of households
Custom profiles of vibrant households that embrace hospitality and spiritual practices
According to the research Barna conducted for this book, here’s what happens when close friends get together:
51% have deep conversations
46% play together
41% have dinner on a regular basis
34% ask for help
33% go on vacation together
30% appear in family photos
25% borrow household items
These percentages are among those who have regular visitors.
On the flip side, 4 in 10 practicing Christian households do not regularly host visitors. Couples are the least likely (49%) to admit they don’t have people over very often.
In summarizing the recommendations that stemmed from their research, Barna concluded they could do no better than Romans 12, which begins with its famous exhortation to be “a living and holy sacrifice.” As the chapter goes on, the focus shifts from the individual to the collective – from “your bodies” to “Christ’s body.” We are reminded:
“We all belong to each other.”
“Love each other with genuine affection.”
“Work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically.”
“Keep on praying.”
“Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people.”
“Always eager to practice hospitality.”
Taken together, these principles build not only a vibrant household but a flourishing community of faith.
Listening to Donald Miller’s podcast, I heard a comment from Bob Goff that literally stopped me in my tracks while on my daily podcast walk:
Don’t mistake proximity for presence.
My mind jumped to Amy Cuddy’s book, Presence, and her definition of “presence”:
Presence is the state of being attuned to and able to comfortably express our true thoughts, feelings, values, and potential.
Now, put those thoughts together, and apply them to the setting of a Modern Elder. When you are in a conversation with someone, there is no more important person in the world.
You are not formulating your next response.
You are not focused elsewhere.
You are not distracted by the environment.
You are present.
It’s time to move from proximity to presence.
You’re in the most important two feet in a Modern Elder experience.
It’s the person you are talking with.
It’s the space between them and you.
Recognizing this important double meaning is the starting point for understanding how to be present as a Modern Elder. The interactions that take place between you and another person in those 24 inches are rich with expectations – and can also be filled with missed opportunities.
When you are not present, people can tell.
When you are present, people respond.
Think ahead to your next conversation: Will you be fully present?
Envision a world where bridges do not exist. Picture major cities like London, Paris, and Rome without convenient pathways across the Thames, the Seine, and the Tiber. Visualize Manhattan as an isolated island, lacking solid connections over the Hudson and East rivers.
Consider San Francisco without road access across the gate to the north and the bay to the east. Imagine Pittsburgh without any bridges spanning the Allegheny and the Monongahela rivers. Picture Chicago without its substantial lift – and drawbridges, or Amsterdam without its more modest canal crossings. Envision Seattle without its lengthy, low floating bridges, or St. Petersburg without its soaring cable-stayed structure stretching over Tampa Bay.
The association between bridges and cities is profound, particularly because many of our greatest cities emerged where they are due to their proximity to water. Settlements along rivers and bays, often at crucial river crossings, have played a significant role in the growth of cities. Cambridge, an ancient English city dating back to Roman times, owes its existence to a bridge over the navigable River Cam. Oxford, another venerable English city, derived its name from being a crossing point of the Thames.
Reflect on the prevalence of water-related words like “port,” “bay,” and “haven” in the names of many cities and towns. Additionally, numerous states share names with the rivers that either border or bisect them.
Now, think about iconic landmarks like the Golden Gate Bridge spanning anything other than the Golden Gate itself. The location, design, proportions, scale, and color of the bridge seem perfectly suited for the site. Can you even imagine any other bridge between San Francisco and Marin County? Could a replica of the Brooklyn Bridge or a smaller version of the Golden Gate Bridge have been envisioned for different locations? Engineers must engage in this type of questioning and imagination before constructing any bridge. Early proposals for bridges in New York and San Francisco looked drastically different from the familiar structures we know today.
Bridges define the entrances to cities, and crossing or passing under some of the world’s great spans is an unforgettable experience. They serve as landmarks and guideposts for travelers, shaping first impressions of cities. Even small, anonymous highway bridges, though less famous, are crucial to local traffic. The engineers who design monumental bridges often begin by working on smaller ones, making them training grounds for ambitious dreams. Every bridge, regardless of size, is not just a functional structure but also an aesthetic and environmental statement.
Despite their significance, our thoughts about bridges often fade once they are open, taken for granted after grand celebrations. However, bridges, like people, are affected by their environment and face wear and tear from traffic, pollution, neglect, and aging. Regular maintenance, inspections, and a recognition of their limits are essential. Unfortunately, neglecting these aspects has led to approximately one in five American bridges being labeled structurally deficient.
Understanding the stories behind our bridges not only fosters a deeper appreciation for their rich history but also provides insight into the humanity of engineers and the field of engineering. It encourages greater pride in the contribution of bridges to our physical and cultural infrastructure and emphasizes the responsibility to maintain them. Imagine a world without bridges, and you’ll realize the immense impact these structures have on our lives.
In Engineers of Dreams, Henry Petroski reveals the science and engineering – not to mention the politics, egotism, and sheer magic – behind America’s great bridges, particularly those constructed during the great bridge-building era starting in the 1870s and continuing through the 1930s. It is the story of the men and women who built the St. Louis, the George Washington, and the Golden Gate bridges, drawing not only on their mastery of numbers but on their gifts for persuasion and self-promotion. It is an account of triumphs and ignominious disasters (including the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, which literally twisted itself apart in a high wind). And throughout this grandly engaging book, Petroski lets us see how bridges became the “symbols and souls” of our civilization, as well as testaments to their builders’ vision, ingenuity, and perseverance.
When you delve into the rich tapestry of bridges, it’s essential to appreciate their multifaceted significance throughout history and their tangible impact on human connectivity. Bridges, both literal and metaphorical, have stood as testaments to human ingenuity, overcoming physical barriers and fostering connections. From ancient structures like the Roman arch bridges to modern engineering marvels such as suspension bridges and cable-stayed spans, each iteration tells a story of innovation and the human desire to traverse obstacles. However, the essence of bridges extends beyond their structural prowess. Metaphorically, the concept of bridges has woven itself into the fabric of our language, serving as a symbol for forging connections, overcoming challenges, and navigating transitions. Let’s explore the myriad ways in which the metaphorical resonance of “bridges” enriches our understanding of relationships, communication, and personal growth across various domains.
The metaphor of “bridges” is widely used across various contexts, symbolizing connections, transitions, and relationships. Here’s a brief listing of the use of “bridges” as a metaphor:
Connecting Generations: The term “bridging the generation gap” is often used to describe efforts to foster understanding and collaboration between different age groups.
Building Relationships: “Building bridges” is a metaphor for establishing and strengthening connections between individuals or groups, emphasizing the importance of communication and understanding.
Navigating Transitions: “Crossing a bridge” is a metaphor for going through a transition or overcoming challenges. It represents a journey from one state to another.
Overcoming Obstacles: “Bridging obstacles” signifies finding solutions and overcoming difficulties, emphasizing resilience and problem-solving.
Cultural Integration: In multicultural contexts, “bridging cultures” refers to efforts to promote understanding and harmony between different cultural groups.
Career Development:”Building a career bridge” is a metaphor for strategic planning and actions taken to advance one’s professional life, moving from one stage to another.
Knowledge Transfer: In the context of mentoring, the term “knowledge bridge” is used to describe the transfer of expertise from experienced individuals to those seeking to learn.
Communication: “Bridging the communication gap” is a common phrase used to highlight efforts to improve understanding and convey messages effectively.
Innovation and Technology: “Bridging innovation” is a metaphor for connecting existing technologies or ideas to create something new and groundbreaking.
Emotional Connections: “Building emotional bridges” is used to describe efforts to establish and maintain meaningful connections on an emotional level.
Mind-Body Connection: “Bridging the mind and body” is a metaphor for achieving harmony and balance between mental and physical well-being.
Education and Learning: ”Bridging knowledge gaps” signifies efforts to enhance learning and understanding, especially in educational settings.
Final Action: “Burning your bridges” forces you to continue with a particular course of action, and makes it impossible for you to return to an earlier situation or relationship.
Drastic Act: Going a “bridge too far” is to pursue something difficult to achieve, often with serious consequences.
These metaphors illustrate the versatility of the “bridge” concept, showcasing its relevance in diverse areas of life and thought.
What use of a “bridge” metaphor would you add to this short (and incomplete) list?
A brief note about this article:
Perhaps the most challenging of all types of reading is syntopical reading, which applies the analytical skills across a multitude of texts. Syntopical reading aims to compare books and authors to one another, to model dialogues between authors that may not be in any one of the books.
The ultimate aim is to understand all the conflicting viewpoints relating to a subject. It’s not to devise your own synthetic answer, as this would merely be an entry into the literature, rather than an understanding of what already exists.
I’m a big proponent of syntopical reading, and at any given time I have a half-dozen or more syntopical collections in progress. The concepts of Bridges in both reality and metaphor is one of my long-standing ones, and one that I will continue to revisit from time to time.
Long-time readers of this site will undoubtably recognize a few more: Modern Elderhood, Disney history, hospitality, and culinary history and practices, for example.
Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.
During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.
It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.
Look again at your neighborhood, not just as the place you happen to live but as an important context for spirituality and mission.
Simon Carey Holt
What if God lived next door? Would you recognize him? Would you talk to him at the fence or avoid catching his eye? Would you love him as you love yourself?
Simon Carey Holt listened to the experiences of numerous men and women of faith – people who live in neighborhoods of all shapes and sizes – and concluded that though they are a largely forgotten resource when it comes to matters of faith, neighborhoods are places rich with the most inspiring stories and exciting possibilities for mission.
According to author Simon Carey Holt, we all live in neighborhoods. Yours may be as different to mine as the proverbial chalk is to cheese. Your closest neighbor may be far away, hidden behind a high wooden fence, or close enough to hear as she walks overhead. Every neighborhood is unique. Yours will have a look and feel of its own; they all do. No matter where it’s located or how old it is, each neighborhood has its own history, atmosphere and personality; each one its distinctive blend of housing types, commercial and community facilities, and public places. Yet every neighborhood – from the trendy city highrise to the ever expanding housing developments on the urban fringe and anything else in between – is a variation on the same basic principle: people living in close proximity to other people.
And yet increasingly, some of us struggle to simply name those who live next door, let alone know the details of their lives.
At the heart of the Christian story lie the two commands Jesus identified as the essence of living, the heart of spirituality: ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all of your heart, soul, mind and strength;’ and ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ As I struggle with these two directives and how to make them alive in my everyday experience, there are some questions that beg for answers, questions like these:
What does it mean to love God where I live?
What does the command, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’ mean for the people who live next door?
How do the realities of contemporary urban and suburban life impact upon my experience of faith and community?
What has my spirituality got to do with the neighbors?
The desire to close the door on the world and create a haven of self-sufficiency, identity and security is strong.
But Holt believes the neighborhood remains a fundamentally important context of life and deserves to be taken more seriously by those who live in one. He believes that in ignoring the health and wellbeing of our local neighborhood, we’re ignoring the glue that binds the wider city together and makes it a genuinely human environment. And perhaps most importantly, he believes a spirituality that does not nurture our connections with the daily places of life fails to reflect the life-transforming nature of the Christian faith.
For decades now, Adam Gopnik has been one of our most beloved writers, a brilliantly perceptive critic of art, food, France, and more. But recently, he became obsessed by a more fundamental matter, one he had often meditated on in The New Yorker: How do masters learn their miraculous skill, whether it was drawing museum-ready art or baking a perfect sourdough loaf? How could anyone become so good at anything? There seemed to be a fundamental mystery to mastery. Was it possible to unravel it?
In The Real Work – the term magicians use for the accumulated craft that makes for a great trick – Gopnik becomes a dedicated student of several masters of their craft: a classical painter, a boxer, a dancing instructor, a driving instructor, and others. Rejecting self-help bromides and bullet points, he nevertheless shows that the top people in any field share a set of common qualities and methods. For one, their mastery is always a process of breaking down and building up – of identifying and perfecting the small constituent parts of a skill and the combining them for an overall effect greater than the sum of those parts. For another, mastery almost always involves intentional imperfection – as in music, where vibrato, a way of not quite landing on the right note, carries maximum expressiveness. Gopnik’s simplest and most invigorating lesson, however, is that we are surrounded by mastery. Far from rare, mastery is commonplace, if we only know where to look: from the parent who can whip up a professional strudel to the social worker who – in one of the most personally revealing passages Gopnik has ever written – helps him master his own demons.
Spirited and profound, The Real Work will help you understand how mastery can happen in your own life – and, significantly, why each of us relentlessly seeks to better ourselves in the first place.
Adam Gopnik explores the concept of mastery across various skills such as drawing, dancing, and driving. Using the term “real work” from stage magicians, Gopnik delves into the meticulous craftsmanship and technical expertise required to make a great magic trick truly outstanding. He emphasizes that the one credited with achieving the “real work” isn’t necessarily the inventor but the one who masters every detail of its execution.
Structured around Gopnik’s interactions with practitioners of different crafts, the book unfolds as a celebration of human flaws. Three key themes emerge:
Mastery is the gradual assembly of fragments into a harmonious whole.
Mastery is about humanity, not perfection, appreciating the vulnerability within virtuosity.
Mastery is found in real lives, not abstract life rules.
Gopnik becomes an apprentice in various disciplines, from drawing to driving, to grasp the essence of mastery. He discusses the slow process of carpentering fragments, emphasizing the importance of learning each small step. Mastery, he argues, is not about impressing the public but about a democratic achievement that we all can attain.
The author explores drawing with a realist artist, magic with renowned magicians, and driving with an instructor who emphasizes relaxation. Through these experiences, Gopnik weaves in reflections on representational art, childhood, aging, and the intricate balance between learned virtuosity and unique vulnerability.
The book takes a poignant turn as Gopnik addresses the limited time we have on Earth, emphasizing that mastery is not transcendent but deeply personal. He contends that what truly matters is not impressing the masses but achieving mastery for ourselves and a few close individuals. In Gopnik’s view, mastery is democratic and attainable by all, a reflection of our varied and capable selves.
Part of a regular series on 27gen, entitled Wednesday Weekly Reader.
During my elementary school years one of the things I looked forward to the most was the delivery of “My Weekly Reader,” a weekly educational magazine designed for children and containing news-based, current events.
It became a regular part of my love for reading, and helped develop my curiosity about the world around us.
27gen.com 