My neighborhood book club started as four friends meeting monthly and now it's become this thing where we barely discuss books and mostly complain about our lives. Half of us want to get back to actual reading and half of us seem to need it as therapy time, and nobody wants to be the one to say anything.
More people experience this than they realize.
A gathering that once served one shared need has evolved to serve different needs for different people, and the group is stuck between honoring what it was and acknowledging what it's become.
“Where Are You with Islamic sadaqah jariyah — the ongoing gift?”
If this sounds familiar, the Library can help you find the bigger picture.