issue 72 October 15th, 2021 In Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, he shares Costica Bradatan’s fable about perfectionism: “[There was] an architect in Persia who designed the world’s most beautiful mosque: a breathtaking structure, dazzlingly original yet classically well proportioned, awe-inspiring in its grandeur yet wholly unpretentious. All those who saw the architectural plans wanted to buy them, or steal them; famous builders begged him to let them take on the job. But the architect locked himself in his study and stared at the plans for three days and nights then burned them all. He might have been a genius, but he was also a perfectionist: the mosque of his imagination was perfect, and it agonized him to contemplate the compromises involved in making it real. Even the greatest of builders would inevitably fail to reproduce his plans absolutely faithfully; nor would he be able to protect his creation from the ravages of time—from physical decay or marauding armies that would eventually reduce it to dust. Stepping into the world of finitude, actually building the mosque, would mean confronting all that he couldn’t do.”
Inneresting 72
Inneresting 72
Inneresting 72
issue 72 October 15th, 2021 In Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, he shares Costica Bradatan’s fable about perfectionism: “[There was] an architect in Persia who designed the world’s most beautiful mosque: a breathtaking structure, dazzlingly original yet classically well proportioned, awe-inspiring in its grandeur yet wholly unpretentious. All those who saw the architectural plans wanted to buy them, or steal them; famous builders begged him to let them take on the job. But the architect locked himself in his study and stared at the plans for three days and nights then burned them all. He might have been a genius, but he was also a perfectionist: the mosque of his imagination was perfect, and it agonized him to contemplate the compromises involved in making it real. Even the greatest of builders would inevitably fail to reproduce his plans absolutely faithfully; nor would he be able to protect his creation from the ravages of time—from physical decay or marauding armies that would eventually reduce it to dust. Stepping into the world of finitude, actually building the mosque, would mean confronting all that he couldn’t do.”