05/22/2024
One of my superpowers is seeing organization and process where others don’t.
Some people may see a mess.
What do I see? I’ll get to that in a sec.
I know many people will judge the person who sat at that desk.
The person who dared to work in this way.
They will want to put them into a box.
Perhaps label them
slobs.
OCD.
ADHD.
Maybe even fantasize about sliding a hand across that desk pushing everything into a trash bag. They would sigh and say “Now we can see the top of the desk.”
Or they may imagine piles of neatly stacked paper, perfectly aligned books on the shelf, organized by height or color.
Would their impulse to clean or organize change when they read the caption? Once they know a genius worked at this desk? (see my first comment)
Would they be afraid of getting in the way of genius?
I do not see a mess.
What do I see?
I see various projects at different stages of completion. Like an orchestra waiting for the conductor to take the podium.
Or like an archeologist who painstakingly removes layer by layer of soil and left-objects to discover and theorize about the actions, beliefs, ingenuity and ways of life of people who lived centuries before.
Instead of seeing a mess, my curiosity and imagination is activated.
I see the evidence of a person engaged in discovery and creation.
I want to meet this person.
Get to know them.
Share in their wonder.
My desk looks like this most of the time.
There are days when the “organization bug” hits me and I create the stacks of paper, throw away notes of used ideas, or toss evidence that I survived on chocolate when I was working on that project.
What I stopped doing was judging myself for it.
I used to be caught in the same cycle as Kate Chopin’s Mrs. Mallard was.
Caring about that “powerful will [that bends ours] in that blind persistence [...] to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature.”
And most importantly, I stopped judging the people who judged me for it, especially when I already loved them.
I know they see life differently. Seeing this “state of disarray” sends them into a panic.
Like Mrs. Mallard, I came to understand that a “kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime…”
I have to be honest.
It took me a long time to learn the tools so I know how to not take on their panic.
To not rush to clean and organize before they arrived to avoid the discomfort of the cycle of judgement
To not “bend” myself to be what they want for fear they will reject me.
To not be defensive about their looks or their comments.
To see when they “cleaned up after me” not that they were signaling my inadequacy, but as an act of love born out of their own needs.
Unlike Mrs. Mallard who had to die to escape her life of restriction because staying in her old life would have meant a different type of death,
each of us can choose how we see the state of the desk.
or bedside table,
or kitchen counter.
or car.
Can we see beauty?
Can we see process?
Can we see an opportunity to connect?
Instead of judging or labeling or excusing, let’s get curious.
Tell me the story of this pile of papers…
