For as long as I can remember, I’ve carried notebooks with me—places to jot down ideas, observations, quotes, funny remarks, even the occasional sketch or mindmap. These books weren’t just a way to document the day, but a space to return to later, looking for unusual connections or patterns that weren’t obvious in the moment. I’ve always been drawn to the idea of the “commonplace book”—a tradition dating back to the Renaissance, where thinkers gathered fragments from the world around them to make sense of life’s complexity. This practice of collecting diverse insights and searching for meaningful connections has deeply informed how I approach philanthropy—looking beyond conventional practices, categories, and disciplines to find unexpected solutions and bringing different voices into conversation with each other.
As we prepare to launch the new Gambrell Foundation website, I’ve come to think of it as our own digital version of that practice—a digital space to organize fragments of ideas and projects into something meaningful.
Our new site is rooted in our ongoing work on what it means to live a great life—how relationships, belonging, awe, purpose, and chance shape our paths. But it also reflects a broader sense of intellectual curiosity and humility. We’re building a space that brings together research, policies, programs, reflections, and universal lived experiences. A place where unexpected connections are welcomed, not dismissed. Where visitors can encounter an idea or story that challenges or inspires them to think a little differently about the world we share—and then iterate on it to create something new and meaningful.
In addition to notebooks, I’m always carrying a book with me. One that I’ve been thinking a lot about recently is Hope for Cynics by Jamil Zaki. In a time when distrust can feel like the default, Zaki argues that hope isn’t naïve—it’s brave. There are days when I fall into cynicism about the world and our work, but he reminds me: cynics never win.
“Refusing to trust anyone is like playing poker by folding every hand. Cynicism protects us from predators but also shuts down opportunities for collaboration, love, and community—all of which require trust. And though we forever remember people who hurt us, it’s harder to notice the friends we could have made if we’d been more open.”
Zaki shows us that choosing to believe in people, in possibility, and in progress isn’t weakness—it’s resilience. That same spirit undergirds our new site. We don’t pretend to have all the answers, but we believe in asking better questions. We believe in sharing “good enough,” not necessarily perfect, ideas—and in creating a space where curiosity, hope, and real-world impact can meet.
We invite you not just to explore our new digital home, but to become part of this collective commonplace book. Share your own insights, questions, and connections as we build this community of hopeful thinkers, tinkerers, and dreamers together. After all, the best commonplace books are those that grow and evolve through unexpected contributions. We can’t wait to see what patterns and connections emerge when your ideas join ours.
With Love,
