Metacognition: Get Organized

Ever since I was very little, I have had a very interesting relationship with organization. The majority of the time, the mere thought of the task conjures up one strong emotion: blah. Categorizing, stacking, filing, labeling… it’s all very dull. Mundane at best. I’ve found that the only time when I actually enjoy organizing is when it involves items which hold some of my interest, like music or art supplies. So, for this assignment, I chose to challenge myself and organize my desk in all its overflowing glory.

When I first looked at my desk, I just didn’t know where to begin. There were textbooks supporting mountains of worksheets, which were buried under scattered pens, pencils, and the occasional stray eraser. My laptop lay in the middle of the disaster, silently screaming out to be rescued from an inevitable avalanche.

After a little mental prep-talk, I decided to work top down. I carefully picked up all my writing utensils and sorted them into different containers according to type. The most tedious job was next, as I filed away all the loose papers into various folders and binders by subject, and threw away all the old and irrelevant ones. I finally hauled all my textbooks onto a nearby shelf. To my surprise, there was a whole host of tidbits and leftover who-knows-what’s that were hiding beneath all those books, so after that was all swept off into the garbage bin, the wood of my desk was visible at last.

The effect of this seemingly obvious discovery that I could in fact see and feel the surface of my desk was shocking. I felt as though an enormous burden was lifted off my shoulders because I realized that all the clutter on this small table had actually been an obstacle in my way—I was always trying to work around it. Before I had gotten started on the daunting task of organizing, I thought very little about what all I carelessly cast to the side, and how those little things can build up into a mountain of stress in no time. With every pen I sorted, every used-up scratch paper I discarded, my outlook on my workload became much clearer and more confident.

Ever since the first time my parents told me to clean my room and taught me the importance of doing so, I’ve understood that organization is extremely beneficial in order to stay on track and know where everything is. But, I realized something after this simple project of combing through and tidying my desk: organization can also be a way of letting go of unnecessary things. Day after day, scores of odd papers and ideas accumulate around me, and I’ve realized that I rarely take the time to just sit down and purge the superfluous ones that all tying me down. After this project, my mind feels cleaner as well, and I can now think about and move into tomorrow with more ease.

I will definitely be incorporating this useful and therapeutic exercise into my life more often, so that my burdens never become too heavy.

Blogging Around

My first comment was on Ross Steinberg's blog post, iMedia: It seems like society could totally possibly learn to articulate better, right? He introduced a poem in video form by poet Taylor Mali, and along with a critique of the poem itself, he discussed the importance of clear and expressive speech and writing.

My comment:   
Ross, I just have to start off by saying I really enjoyed this poem and video, and ironically, after watching it, I remained speechless for several minutes because of how deeply it made me reflect on myself. As much as it pains me to admit, I am a serious culprit of inarticulate speech. But, before your blog post, I never really analyzed what deeper meaning this might have about me as a person.

Just like many other “reformed and refined” teenagers, I try to avoid using filler words such as “like” when I’m talking. Whenever I use those superfluous syllables, I am hiding behind them—cushioning the impact of any potential negative reactions to what I’m saying. This is an obvious place to start when improving my communication skills. However, it was only this year that I started to contemplate the importance of word choice and conciseness. The video brought up a wonderful point about how the words we use really reflect the passion behind our assertions and beliefs, and, Ross, I found your idea of visual poetry to be very refreshing. These new aspects to the way we express ourselves seemed to be a big burden though… I mean, now every time I say something, I not only have to think about whether or not I am saying exactly what I want to say, but also whether or not I am saying it in the best way possible.

I’ve come to believe this will all just come with practice, though. Upon much reflection, I have realized just how much can be gained from speaking with more conviction, because along with earning more respect, I have a feeling it will lead me to a better understanding of my own beliefs. Thanks for the great thoughts, Ross!

*****

My second comment was on Nina Galanter's blog post, Best of Week: Wait for the Author to Follow Through Before Judging a Book. She discussed how she now understands the importance of withholding judgment about a piece of art until the artist, or author, has finished presenting it fully.

My comment:

Nina, it is quite unfortunate that I too have had much experience with this human tendency. In fact, sometimes it gets so frustrating because I feel like my brain is screaming at me, drowning out everything else I’m trying to pay attention to. Our class discussion about withholding our judgments of literature and art until the author has fully made his or her point struck me too, but it was only after reading your post that I began to wonder… to what degree can we actually control this?

Two summers ago, I read a fascinating book called Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. He wrote in depth about multiple scenarios when the “snap-judgments” we subconsciously make actually benefit us and should be trusted. Although his references were not directly related to interpreting literature, I think there are some parallels that can be drawn. I believe our mind works so fast and in so many directions every second, that it is almost impossible to trace its path. We draw from so many memories and emotions every time with unknowingly interpret or categorize something we encounter, and I don’t think this can just be switched off, nor should they be.

Instead, I would propose letting oneself make those judgments, and interpretations, but not letting them cloud or close one’s mind. Acknowledging them and just tucking them away until the author has finished speaking is definitely no easy task, but it can be very valuable. After one has finished reading a novel, watching a play, or listening to a piece of music, looking back and contemplating one’s previous interpretations or trains of thought could be extremely enlightening… uncovering a wealth of insight about how certain little tidbits in that work of art connected to the human mind.

Thanks for sparking those ideas, Nina!