Metacognition: A Tribute to Aristotle

Blog 7

There's something that only those closest to me know, and that is that I am very organized in
some literal and figurative areas of my life, while quite the opposite in some others. They also
know that I am a persistent person; this persistence often works backwards and inhibits me
from getting things done that I dread or work half-heartedly at.
                                                                   
Naturally, cleaning my room and straightening up my living space is one of those things.
                                                                         ***
I sauntered down the stairs, at what was for me mid-morning, and was greeted by the lovely
sound of my mother's furious fingers tidying up tidbits of our scattered lives around the kitchen
and living room in preparation for the five additional members of family we were hosting for
the long-awaited Thanksgiving feast. I had a few minutes of bliss before she urged me to do the
same. I had no problem with it! I wanted our house to look nice just as badly as she did and I
was fully emerged in the cleaning spirit...right up until the point when she asked me to clean my
room. It's so dumb! I thought. They won't even go up there. As mothers often do, she won that
argument.
                                                                          ***
As I trudged back up the staircase, I just felt as if I was staring up at a mountain (and I'm
not referencing the one of clothes in my closet) and only had an hour and a half to get up it.
I entered and I was fully immersed in the feeling of hopelessness. I was the master of hiding
knock-knacks in the strangest and best-thought-out places ever, never thinking about the next
time that I would have to do what I was suppose to be doing at that very moment. It wasn't that I
didn't like my room clean. I loved it clean! It just never stayed that way.

I was well into the process of tidying up when I remembered that I had to do this anyway for this
very blog post. Finally, a teacher had us do something practical! Yes, that was the extent of my
dynamic thinking during this exercise.

Haha, just kidding. I continued bustling about and found my mind actually to be much less
restless. (Let me reiterate this point, I love a clean room and living space!) In retrospect, I
might even go as far as to say that my mind actually imitated the new appearance of my room-
-compartmentalized, clear, and at rest. There was no pile or collection of miscellaneous items
lurking in either important space, nothing left out and unresolved.

Here's what I have to say to Aristotle: sometimes I feel like some of the loose items that end up
cluttering my floor or a piece of furniture used as storage space, like I don't belong or need to
be put back into its proper setting. I highly doubt that I am the only one to get this sense of not
belonging or bing out of place. But as is true in both nature and in our minds, there is a set order
and we have the ability to control it. As was clear while cleaning my room, I figure out that we
can easily manipulate things that positively affect that order. I was negatively affected and felt
mentally uncomfortable when my room appeared disheveled. On the other hand, I felt a sense of
satisfaction and gain after doing what I dread. I think that this concept of manipulating aspects
of the order, even if we dread or fear that manipulation at the time, is a highly transferable skill
to academics, athletics, the good of society, and much more. After all, I believe or capacity to
change ourselves and our surroundings is most amazing and formidable gits with which we were
endowed.

Metacognition: Orlando Essay

One of the hardest essays I have had to write, up until that point in time at least, was the Orlando essay. Being one who loves structured and direction, I struggled with the synthesis of ideas and putting them down on a piece of paper. I usually don't have this problem, but I can now recall some flaws in my thinking that made my writing process more difficult.

The Denial
All too often, I find myself not believing or disliking that I have to do something difficult. In some convoluted way, I attach a stigma to the task at hand, which causes me to go into the process with a "glass half empty" sort of mindset. This certainly proved itself most when writing the first draft of this essay. I didn't feel like I had a very strong or clever idea in the first place, so I was even more reluctant to sit down in front of the keyboard.

The Communication
It was still relatively early in the year, and I didn't quite feel the level of comfort with asking questions as I do now. With that being said, a correction to the completion of e assignment, which mostly would have cleared up the blurriness of the whole things, would just have been to ask my teacher a question a two about my idea and layout fro the essay in its preliminary stages.

The Idea Itself
In relation to the communication disconnect, the development of the idea was also a contributing factor to the paper's lack of success. I believe that I should have delved deeper into the text and messages of the story in order to find a better claim. The claim should have been an idea that was present throughout the entire story, not just a symbol at the end of the book that I had to stretch too thin to fit my paper, not my paper fit it.

What I did like about my idea was that it was original and that it did connect to a symbol at the end of the book which other classmates of mine had many questions about. In a perfect world, I would have been able to start from scratch and use a new claim entirely. To begin with, I thought it was clever, but what I would change (given my stage in the writing process at the time of the writing process) is my support for my claim. I don't think that the support was entirely relevant, so I think that with some more time, communication, and a little bit less denial, my essay could have turned out better than it did and more how I envisioned it.