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This phrase, when I first learned it, meant to “go with the flow” and “be open to change” in the course of a project or something else in its planning stages within a group.
I feel like this definition is also applying itself to relationships with those in my life. Not so much with me, but with their “organic” loved ones.
Lately, I’ve had several friends break up with boyfriends after dating them for several years. It’s weird to see a couple together for so long (5 years!) and then see a friend at a party – where she brought her sister, not her boyfriend: clue #1 – only to find out they broke up several months ago.
Something shifts in my brain upon finding people broke up. It’s not that I want them to stay together if they’re unhappy; in fact, I’d rather people be happy on their own than miserable together. But, it’s a brain blip akin to finding out that the 14th street bridge has been taken down, and that’s the only way I can figure out how to get to certain areas of midtown, and so my brain has to adjust and settle on the realization that though that connection is gone, there are other means to an end. Be organic, oh mind o’ mine: adapt.
In all of these cases of longterm bliss ending, the guy just didn’t want to get married. My husband and I have had this conversation many times, mostly because we were fortunate to find each other early in life and subsequently shake our heads at the guys (and to be fair, I am sure there are girls) out there who don’t get it that they have a wonderful partner and as such they should see what they have and celebrate it. All of these relationships seemed pretty solid. My husband and I had at one time or another talked about how great these couples were together, and wondered when the engagement would be announced.
Add to that a relationship we witnessed from engagement to wedding (a month after ours) to the husband cheating to the helping her move out to the divorce, all in the span of a year and half, if that. Be organic, heart and mind: adjust.
Add to that the heartache we felt for our dear friend whose wedding was canceled; ironically, we’d just bought plane tickets and were debating about the hotel (should we splurge for a fun night or be economical and stay with friends?). In the mail we received the announcement; I called her to see if she was alright, to be informed that she’d called the wedding off herself. She’s batting for the other team now and she’s much happier. We’re very happy for her, but still, our brains had to be “organic” about it and adjust to the fact that she wasn’t getting married in a few months. (We wound up taking the trip even though the wedding was canceled.)
It’s the wisdom of the words of Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” No kidding. Be organic, brain, so you can process these changes, as they are bound to come around again.
At school, we’ve gotten hip with the eco-friendly times and have eliminated the need, and therefore use, of trays in the cafeteria. I will only say it once more, lest someone hit me, that in three years here, I have used a tray maybe 3 times. If that.
“Why cut out trays?” you ask. Well, it’s a great idea on many levels. A whole lot of schools have moved to this trayless method of dining to save tons of gallons of water that was used to wash them and they’ve also wasted less food. You know – if you don’t have a big ol’ tray to pile plates, bowls, and cups on, maybe you’re more likely to get only what you will actually finish. I think it’s a win-win.
I am clearly in the minority. It’s all anyone talks about now: bemoaning our tray-less existence. I’m not criticizing them, because I do see their point (I am, after all, a Both/And kind of thinker). I do think, however, that I have gotten by really well for three years without using a tray. And I only didn’t use one because I am the world’s biggest klutz. Trays might as well have ball bearings as part of their surface, that’s how good I am at keeping things on them, especially if they’re plastic.
Plus, you can actually fit everyone at our round tables if you only have your 10″ wide plate as opposed to the 20″+ tray. I think this adds to the community if everyone can actually sit together. In fact, I often was able to easily squeeze into a spot at a table because I didn’t have a tray. People would shift their trays so I could fit in, whereas my other friends with tray would have to bypass the social opportunity due to the enormity of their tray.
So what’s happening here is that everyone’s having to adapt and that’s hard. I totally see that. They’re very vocal about it. It comes up every day. I’m the one who doesn’t have to adapt, so the situation only strikes me as humorous, much to my trayless friends’ chagrin.
I do see it as a pity that if it snows this year, there will be no impromptu sledding, courtesy of the perfect impromptu sled: the cafeteria tray. That is a pity.
ME!!!!!!!
Yep, I am crabby this fine a.m.
I incorporated my alarm clock noise into a dream I was having at the time, so I overslept. Consequently, didn’t shower. Consequently, left later than I had intended.
Had to deal with not-so-clean hair. Got work and think that maybe my skirt is a wee bit too short to be deemed work-appropriate. I’ll be hanging out behind my desk a lot today!
A person almost ran me over in the crosswalk here on campus. I was clearly in the crosswalk, other people were waiting, and yet this person decided to gamble with my reflexes. As if her car didn’t move faster than I walked, as if waiting on me for 5 more seconds would prevent her from achieving her goal. Not much about my withering, judgmental face registered with her, either.
Got to my office, only to hear that the percussion room adjacent to my office space is full of junior high boys, plunking out odd-ball phrases on the xylophones and chimes, triangles, bongos, whatever. This set up has continually grated on my nerves the last three years, but of course I put up with it because my job transitions to another department in a month, so why make a big deal when I’m leaving soonish anyway?
At least I have something exciting to look forward to: I brought some delicious loose leaf Earl Grey tea with me today. It was a gift I got back at our housewarming, but I hadn’t tried it yet. I had some over the weekend, and is it ever delightful. Chimes may ring, people might hit me in crosswalks, and I might get sent home to change clothes, but once I settle in with my wonderful tea, all will be well.
“Don’t talk back.”
I used to love this song when I was little, even though I am sure I didn’t really get it at the time. I was used to being the one told to do the chores. I also categorized it with “It’s a Hard Knock Life” as I could sympathize with the girls who complained about their chores.
But I find myself in a different place, and not without an ounce of sympathy for those who have had to lay down the law before when I’ve not performed my part.
Let’s get a few things straight here. I love coaching. I love all the girls and cheerleading and being at a school. I also HATE HATE HATE having to be bossy. But when I’ve clearly expressed to the girls I am coaching that we have certain rules to live by and yet they disobey them, it’s hard to remain best friends with them for long.
But then, I am not here to be their best friend. I’m here to coach and teach them how to better get along with each other and in the world. That’s my hope anyway.
The thing is, a lot changes in a year. Last year, where I would have trembled to ask a girl to be quiet, I am now totally unafraid to stand up for myself as the person in charge. Last year, where I would have sweetly reminded the girls not to wear jewelry, chew gum, or any other minor infraction, I have now acquired the ability to be that lady who is totally unafraid to crack the figurative whip.
I feel so serious. It’s weird for me. But experiencing this confidence in myself also clarifies for me to point of hitting me over the head that I am READY to become a teacher. Like, for real. It’s exciting. I love planning what we’re going to do. I love feeling 100% confident in speaking up infront of these girls. I hope that I am shaping them in positive ways, but of course that’s not an instantaneous assessment. I hope I am helping them become better versions of themselves. This season is shaping up really well and they girls have been working really hard. I feel so purposeful and clearheaded about everything from what’s expected of me to how to run practice effectively.
Now if they can stop chattering so much, they can pay attention more, we can accomplish more, and we’ll be golden!
And I’ll take the slow road.
I tried really hard and partially succeeded at waking up early today in order to get on my new schedule since I am now coaching (school has finally begun!). Last Friday I was oblivious to the fact that all the seniors would be parking where I normally park so I got to park far away. It’s okay. I always need the exercise.
I was happy to be in my car by 7:22 this morning, as opposed to 7:40, which meant I had a fighting chance of securing a parking space. I putzed along to work, which is always longer than it should be because of too many people and stop lights that last way too long. I turned onto the street I’ve been taking all summer to get to work, and WHAM! Everyone else was there, too! I did not have this problem on Friday as by the time I got to this point, everyone else had come and gone (and taken the parking spaces, too, of course). It was bad enough that there was a holdup caused by the large amount of traffic into the school where I work, but to make things worse, this jerk behind me, who also planned to turn left, seemed to think that I wasn’t in front of him. HELLO. My name is SUSAN. I am occupying the space IN FRONT of you. GET OFF YOUR PHONE, Mr. Special Pants. Jerk.
I did make it to work in stellar time, even with this delay, but now I know I need to take the LONG way to school, because it’s actually faster. I’ll probably still go home this shorter way. I know this is fascinating to you! I am sure everyone can relate though, how your commute would be so much easier if it weren’t for X, Y, or Z. I live 4 miles from work yet it takes me 20+ minutes to get there. More time for NPR for me. 
To my husband of three years, I say, wow, what a fun time we manage to have together, whether laughing at signs in Mexico:
Or my naming you the king of our resort (for you’re always king of my heart!):
Or wearing funny hats with you:
Or sitting in front of this in Montreat during the winter:
Or running away with you at the beach:
Yeah, it doesn’t really matter what we do. It’s always fun!
I love you!
Don’t I look like Eva Peron in this picture?
Let me count the ways…
Okay, there are too many to list. I actually want to dedicate this post to anyone who has ever lived with me, from when I was born until now. Let’s just say that pretty much anyone who has been blessed with my presence as their house- or roommate had a few things coming to them.
First of all, okay, I have ADD. Yes, piles and piles of stuff can accumulate around me and I won’t notice until either I need something and can’t find it OR the person with whom I am living screams at me to freakin’ clean up. I just get too distracted. It all started when I was little and I’d be playing Barbies or blocks, or whatnot, and sure enough, something interesting would distract me, like a friend coming over or we’d have to leave right that moment to go somewhere (usually an aunt or uncle’s house to see cousins – fun!), and was there time to clean up? Nope. So after a while, the thought of cleaning up first just didn’t occur. It still happens to this day, but, you guys, I am sooo much better! I think I really owe the biggest apology to Rach, who lived with me (maybe that should be put up with me) for the first two years of college. And no, we didn’t not live together later because I was a slob, fyi.
Last night on HGTV, during the commercials, they advertised a show that’s coming on sometime (hello, ADD didn’t allow me to mentally note when it’s coming on, my brain quickly scooted off to my Wayne’s World-style daydream transport) and I recalled two distinct things. First, my college room, particularly freshman year, could very well have been featured on this show because it was awesome. Also, my parents allowed me to develop the skill set needed to make my college room so awesome .
When we were in the first house I lived in growing up, our house was probably 200 feet from the road, which was itself at least 5 miles from civilization. We lived on an entire acre, surrounded by peach orchards and cow fields, neither of which we owned, but we still benefited from the scenery and pungent odors of cow poo. Actually, looking in one direction, maybe east, there was a huge field, free of trees, which was prone to displaying the most gorgeous rainbows after an afternoon thunderstorm.
Out in this remote area, my imagination pretty much had no bounds. And since we must have had some serious time on our hands, my sisters and I got to decorate for whatever season was coming up to the fullest extent, because, get this, our house was waaaaaay off the road and waaaaaaaaay far away from anyone who might see it. I, in particular, embraced the opportunity to decorate our front windows and door, oblivious to the realization that no one, but no one, other than us, would ever see it.
For Halloween, which was by far my favorite, I’d make ghosts by wadding up a ball of Kleenex and putting it in the center of another Kleenex, which I’d fold over the wadded up Kleenex like the wrapper of a Tootsie-Roll pop. Then I’d hold the exterior Kleenex together with some string. I’d lightly draw ghoulish faces onto the fragile, unforgiving surface of the Kleenex head and then tape the completed ghost up in the window. I’d make like 20 of them. Can’t you just hear their chorus of boooos? Look, this artist, Mary Klein, actually has painted a Kleenex ghost! I salute you, Mary Klein! 
Then, I’d take a paper plate and draw a witch flying on her broom in silhouette against a full moon. How spooky, eh? It was awesome.
So I totally decorated our college dorm room with these ghosts around Halloween. And from somewhere, we got some bright green web material and those fun plastic spider rings that we put in the web. My black light lit up the web to an eerily awesome degree, and the ghosts glowed a bit too as they were just white Kleenex. But did I take down these decorations when I was done? Why, noooooooooooo.
To it, I added snowflakes, also an old do-it-yourself decoration I employed in decorating our front windows at our old house. I am sure I could handle pattern 31, as I am sure I am at the necessary Advanced skill level.
So, snowflakes and ghosts and the eventually nappy green web. Done, right?
Nope. I added empty soda cans. Christmas lights.
I did all these under cover of darkness as my roommate slept. Did I mention I didn’t ever sleep in college unless it was absolutely necessary? It was a throwback to my old preschool days where I was always too wound up to nap and they had to bribe me to nap (which I pretended to do but never actually did). She’d wake up the next morning to find the Ceiling Fairy had added yet some more crazy items to the ceiling. Like magic!
So, yes, it is just a miracle of miracles that my roommate did not kill me. Apparently my ability to make her laugh far outweighed her annoyance at my messiness and need to hang weird things from the ceiling.
I’m a lot better now, I promise! 
HGTV, along with a host of roommates and now my husband taught me the benefits of organization. For the most part. Maybe I’ll hang up some ghosts in our window this Halloween as a nod to the good ol’ days.
