Malcolm Gladwell

There are a few authors whom I like so much that I get cross with them for not writing enough. If you are a good writer, and you happen to be dead—then you are excused. Otherwise, I expect a good book at least once a year from you. I’m talking to you--Philip Yancey, Anne Lamott, Donald Miller, Malcolm Gladwell…

I recently read an article about Malcolm Gladwell which reminded me why I’m a fan of his work. Here is an excerpt:

“The author espouses clarity of thought, learning to sift through and filter out the noise of the world to focus on what is essential to one’s life, and to perceive people and situations for who and what they are rather than what one thinks they are. ‘I feel that people are experience-rich and theory-poor,’ asserts Gladwell. ‘That is to say, most people have lots and lots and lots of experiences but don’t have the time to try to make sense of them. It’s a luxury to be able to sit and theorize and read psychologists, sociologists, and historians and to attach explanations to events. The reason people read books like my own is that they’re searching for those kinds of explanations, of ways of making sense of things. There is this tremendous body of knowledge in the world of academia where extraordinary numbers of incredibly thoughtful people have taken the time to examine on a really profound level the way we live our lives and who we are and where we’ve been. That brilliant learning sometimes gets trapped in academia and never sees the light of day. I’m trying to give people access to all of that brilliant thinking. It’s a way of going back to college long after you’ve graduated.’” (‘To Agree, Or Not to Agree,’ by Brian Reesman)  

This passage resonated with me. It was like hearing a song for the first time and knowing that the lyrics expressed your sentiments—precisely. This is what I want to do—sift through and filter out the noise of the world to focus on the essentials. Some people might describe luxury in terms of expensive homes, cars, jewelry, clothing, spa days, food, or wine. My idea of the ultimate luxury would be similar to Gladwell’s—to be able to sit, theorize, read, and make sense of things. There is so much knowledge out there—some really insightful people have figured out so many wonderful, intricate, fascinating mysteries. I often feel guilty about indulging myself, luxuriating by this sea of knowledge. So, mostly I just walk on the sandy beach, occasionally dipping my toes in this vast body of wisdom.