Month: March 2022

Letter from My 80-Year-Old Self

Posted on by andrew

Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

My dearest Neema,

 

So here we are at the age where we wanted to be when we were in our 30s. I remember us telling Mommy whenever we encountered challenges how much we wanted to skip over all of that and just be me now — wise, calm and transcendental, ha! I definitely give less f’s now, but I don’t know if I’d call myself all of those adjectives. I definitely feel a lot achier and slower. I remember when we saw our 80-plus-year-olds then, Tito George and Tita Lory, when we were in our late 40s, after having moved to Vancouver. We were observing them because we wanted to understand our parents more, and we also wanted to see what we would look forward to in our senior years.

 

How we struggled to make sense of our move to Vancouver then. I remember the frustration we felt at things not moving according to our own pace, and the uncertainty of our permanent resident approval and later, our citizenship. I think I’m supposed to give you advice on how we made it this far, but honestly, we’ve always known that there aren’t really any formulas or templates to these things. And like what we’ve discovered when someone needs us, it truly is the time we spend with them that matters the most. Money helps, and talks – I still recall us realizing the double-edged truth to the latter.

 

Let’s see, maybe I can tell you how you and Ron are doing. Before that, let me tell you how you are doing. We are still writing, and I love that that’s exactly what we wanted to be doing in our senior years. Even then, we didn’t believe in retirement. We are writing, getting published and making appearances, but more importantly, we are still teaching. We’ve always liked the flexible schedule, especially now that we can spend time with our grandchildren. So because, I guess, of the success of our writing projects, we are at a place where we can actually dictate when to work and what projects to take — yey! I know we’ve always wondered if we were ever going to get to that point, even being content daydreaming about it because it always seemed out of reach, or more for other people, but never for us. Only “nice to have,” so to speak. 

 

Before getting into the grandkids, we do have a couple of feature films (one animated and one live-action) produced, a couple of chapbooks under our belt and a book series. Prior to Julia Cameron’s passing, she actually coordinated with us so that we could come up with our own version of The Artist’s Way. With her blessing, ours is called The Artist in Me. 

 

So how are you and Ron? He actually passed on at 70, the year he wished to die. I am constantly thankful that he didn’t have to experience that feeling of being a burden that he so detested. We talk to him every day, rubbing the small jar locket of his ashes on our neck as we do so.

 

We take turns living with the kids these days, so our year is divided into 3 locations. When we are with Joaquin, we help take care of our 3 grandkids: Pharrell, Ember and Dandy, a boy and 2 girls. Yes, he and Kat ended up together, though it wasn’t easy what they went through, but you already knew that. The heartbreak was something we quietly shared with Joaquin, but Ron made it a bit easier by dating you a lot, as we know he loves to do, and without being too obvious, spoiling Joaquin with musical performances together (yes, Joaquin’s violin and Ron’s sax lessons pay off emotionally, mentally and spiritually).

 

Lara has one boy, and because you haven’t met her partner, I won’t spoil it =D (Yes, at our age, we still write personal messages with emojis). She is a mycologist and actually met Paul Stamets before he passed. She actually knows his son (hint, hint).

 

As for Ramon, his babies are his capybaras and his adopted elephant seal at the Vancouver Aquarium. He’s busy in the IT industry helping out start-ups, and is the richest among the 3 kids. And yes, you help him take care of Capy and Bara when you’re at his place.

 

If I may just leave you with a poem we wrote as my last bit of “advice”:

 

May We Always

 

May we always have just enough

Just enough food to savour each bite

Just enough water to find it sweet

Just enough to wear to enjoy the weather

Just enough house to take care of it all

Just enough work to know rest

Just enough rest to be productive

Just enough company to enjoy each moment

Just enough silence to listen

 

To the universe, to ourselves, to each other

 

Just enough noise to enjoy

Just enough peace to act

Just enough to do to remember why

 

Just enough sadness to move past it

Enough anger for injustice to do the right thing

Enough happiness to share it

Enough fear to rise above it

Enough doubt to trust it

 

May we always be enough

Be enough to know our worth

Be enough to go where we’re needed

Be enough not to compare

Be enough to remember we matter, we count, we dare

 

May we make enough count.

 

Be.

 

Enough. 

 

I love you, sweetie.

 

You

 

Note: I have written letters to myself since I came across this task in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way over 20 years ago. I have since made possibly three-to-four versions of the letter, and even did one where my current self wrote to my eight-year-old self. I find that updating the letter every so often really helps me put in perspective where I currently am and where I am headed.

 

—

 

Neema Ejercito is a professional writer, director and creative writing mentor. Her 3D edutainment series for beginning readers, AlphaBesties, is showing in YouTube Japan and Prairie Kids. When she’s not writing or mentoring, she manages her household with her very supportive husband and three children.

 

Life After Toxic Relationships

Posted on by andrew

Low Entropy Guest Contributor

 

All I’ve known is dysfunction, chaos and drama. This was the norm to me. I had a tendency to “fall in love” after only knowing someone for a week . . . I would chalk this up to fate or destiny! We’d been waiting our whole lives, and we finally found one another. The beginning of our romance novel was exciting and intense. We would think of each other all day, send one another countless messages, fall asleep on the phone together. We couldn’t get enough of each other. It was magic, the chemistry was beyond anything I’d ever experienced before. After a month or two, we couldn’t bear to be apart, so we quickly rearranged our lives and moved in together. Now the rest of our lives could begin, and we could live happily ever after. 

 

But shortly after living together, I would recognize sides of him that I didn’t notice before, like jealousy and anger. At first, I thought it was cute that he was jealous.

 

“He just loves me so much, and he can’t stand the thought of losing me . . . awww, that’s so sweet.” 

 

When he would have bursts of anger, I would tell myself that he needed me to love him because he’d never experienced real love before, and that’s why he reacted in such angry ways. I could be the one to love him so much that his anger would eventually fade away. 

 

Not true.

 

His anger never faded away.

 

I must have replayed this movie four or five times. You’d think I’d get tired of the same old story, but I seem to find comfort in familiarity.

 

After my last dysfunctional relationship, I charged my partner with assault and was forced to go no-contact with him, due to the charges I placed on him. This helped me escape the trauma bond that I found myself in, once again. I finally interrupted my pattern of attracting toxic relationships and, at last, I’m free of the chaos, drama and dysfunction that I grew accustomed to. 

 

So what’s next?

 

I find I have a lot more time on my hands to be with me. I’ve come face-to-face with who I am, and I’m forced to acknowledge all the parts of me. No longer can I distract myself in the chaos of a toxic relationship. Instead, I find myself . . . bored. If all you’ve ever known is drama and that drama subsides, normality can take some time to adjust to.

 

My codependent tendencies have shown up in other ways, but at least now I’m aware of them. 

 

Codependency. The need to be liked, to be accepted and to feel loved. If I can make someone else need/love/want me . . . then I must be worthwhile. I must be important.

 

In reality, I have to need/love/want myself. I have to stop picking myself apart and start appreciating who I am and how far I’ve come. 

 

Sure, there are things about me that I’m not in favor of. I can be cranky, selfish and insecure. But I can also be real, authentic and vulnerable.

 

Instead of focusing on all the things I don’t like about myself, I’m choosing to focus on all the things I do like about myself. I like my openness and willingness to learn. I like my “just do it” attitude. I like my fashion sense. I like my awareness and commitment to grow and evolve into my full potential.

 

I like what I’m doing right now. I like liking myself.

 

—

Leave your thoughts for us in the comments below — better yet, start up a dialogue with the Low Entropy community in person at a Conscious Connections meeting or online at our community site. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

Ordinary Everydays

Posted on by andrew

Cecilia Watt (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

It’s easy to find hope and inspiration in big things, isn’t it? This year, Canada watched snowboarder Max Parrot win gold and bronze at the Olympics, and while that was inspiring in itself, the inspiration was increased tenfold by the fact that he accomplished this only a few years after being diagnosed with cancer. Big moments of inspiration like this are wonderful and necessary for the human spirit, but they often make our own lives feel small, ordinary and lacking. Add in the listlessness that came with the pandemic and you can’t help but ask yourself, “What could be so inspiring about my normal, everyday life?” I think that you can find hope in the goodness in the world and the inspiration to be a part of it as a part of an “ordinary” everyday life. If the past few years have taught me anything, it’s that the chance to live ordinary things is the most extraordinary chance we’re given.

 

In 2020, I graduated university during the first wave of the pandemic. There was no ceremony at school, so my friends and I made our own before we had to separate in March. With paper diplomas, graduation music played on YouTube, dresses, heels and four years’ worth of tears, we went our separate ways, not knowing when we’d see each other again. I had lost my dad three months before, and would lose my grandma to COVID-19 one month after the day of our goodbye ceremony. The grief of my loved ones, my former life and who I used to be consumed me, and after months of numbness, I decided to be consumed by something else: a job at a domestic violence shelter.

 

In the year I worked there I found inspiration from people living everyday lives, in spite of experiencing the worst the world had to offer. I laughed — really laughed — with the women I met, so hard that it hurt my stomach. They teased me when I (allegedly) couldn’t whisk an egg properly in the kitchen. We celebrated every holiday together, and we celebrated not having the energy to participate in holidays together too. I helped a client beat a level of Fishdom every day when I had a minute, and another client taught me about Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch (who knew he and Mark Wahlberg were one and the same?). One taught me about diamond art, and another gave me her colouring pages when she was done with them, as a gift. They brought me back to life simply by allowing me to be a part of their ordinary lives. Of course, there were many moments of pain and hopelessness. Those moments reinforced to me how lucky we were to live the good ones together.

 

I went sledding with the children of the shelter one snowy day, and I can safely say that it was one of the best days of all our lives. These kids had lived through the unspeakable, and all of us staff who went with them were weighed down by that knowledge and our own lives. But that day? That day, they just got to be kids — and so did we. We crashed in the snow, flew off our sleds and raced each other, and not a single one of us wanted to leave. Another ordinary day, another extraordinary moment.

 

I’ve been told by family, friends, coworkers and acquaintances that the way I handled my grief was an inspiration to them. I’m still not sure how I feel about that: all I did was my best, and it usually felt like my worst. The reason I could do my best is because of the peace and hope I found in the daily things that we’re taught aren’t noteworthy.

 

In the fall of 2021 I moved to Vancouver, reuniting with three of those friends with whom I had “graduated” on their rickety, student house staircase. I decided it was time to leave my hometown and try something new, before going back into the grad school fray the following year. Cue immediate existential crisis. I wasn’t in school, and was now unemployed in a new city, taking a break from the social service work that had made me feel so useful. It left me in that strange limbo of grief where you feel like people think you should be doing better than you actually are. For the first time in years, my life was only made of little things, with no big, earth-shattering ones in sight. I felt useless and so deeply ordinary, like a secondary character in my own life. Then, I found my new favourite café. I made very poorly designed clay mugs with my roommates at an art studio. I found a therapist I really connected with and kept in touch with my friends. I kept falling more in love with the best person I’ve ever met, every day. We made paper snowflakes to decorate for Christmas and watched The Bachelorette every week. I continued to contribute to the lives of others and my own, and I remembered that the pause we take between words is just as important as what we’re saying.

 

We will forever need those big moments of hope and inspiration. What I want you to know is that those big moments are always tied together by ordinary everydays, the same ones that you and I live. Max Parrot’s medal is made even more golden by all the little moments of hope that I’m sure he found in his ordinary days, the ones that gave him the strength to deliver that same hope back to us. So go about your ordinary day in any way that brings you peace, and remember how special that is. After all, isn’t finding a moment of peace in a world so loud and blinding the most extraordinary thing of all?

 

—

 

Cecilia Watt is a recent university graduate taking a few years off before grad school to focus on all the little joys in life, such as chai lattes, good books and listening to music while going for walks. 

From Another Street

Posted on by andrew

Julia Magsombol (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Please note that this article discusses suicide and suicidal ideation.

 

I was 10 when I first became afraid of the conversation around death. I had known all along what it meant when someone you loved died, but not the idea of losing them. It was a sunny afternoon in Manila, and the only thing that made the weather somewhat balanced was the breezy air that plunged into our sweat. I was on the patio with my grandmother and our house cleaner.

 

The town where I came from was small, so gossip was like dust, it was everywhere. Gossip and conversations could be heard from here to there. It didn’t matter where you were. You’d just hear things. 

 

“Oh Cely, you wouldn’t believe what I just heard!” our house cleaner muttered. 

 

“What is it, Muray?” 

 

“A man killed himself in his house just last week!” 

 

“Jesus Christ! Where is he from?” 

 

“I don’t know, but he’s from another street!” 

 

“Tsk, tsk!” 

 

“His fiancé left him for another man. I guess he couldn’t take it anymore!” 

 

“What a poor man. God bless him.” 

 

“He hanged himself just under the loft bed! I guess he wanted to die fast.” 

 

“That is brutal! Did anyone come to check up on him?” 

 

“No one. His body was decaying when people recovered it. His family is not in Manila, and he was all alone for years — well, aside from his ex-fiancé.” 

 

“Poor man. What a lonely death. No wonder he killed himself.” 

 

The conversation goes on and on. It terrifies me to hear such a thing. 

 

I never understood what the guy was feeling, but for a second, I thought he could’ve just gone far away and travelled to different countries to feel better about the break-up. As I got older, I realized that even if he had escaped the place he was in, he’d still have been miserable. At that moment, he had lost the love of his life, and perhaps himself — and how could he move on from that situation? He’d be dead either way. 

 

But his ending might have been a little different if he had someone besides his fiancé. If someone would have been there during his darkest times, he might not have killed himself. I can’t really know what ending he would’ve had. Well, truthfully, we all die at the end, that’s all of our endings.

 

But I know things could’ve been better if someone had knocked on his door and asked how he was — if someone had eaten with him and talked to him. 

 

It could’ve been better if he had the chance to realize that he wanted to live longer, maybe for himself. It could’ve been better if he’d had someone. At least, there would have been a greater chance that he would live longer and die peacefully. 

 

What’s tiresome in this world is how we build walls within ourselves instead of a bridge when we are drowning in our darkest times. We build walls around ourselves and we don’t let anyone enter. And others don’t want to reach out because of the walls that they have built as well. We end up being alone and hurting during our difficult moments. 

 

And so I’ve finally grasped it: we don’t need a lot of things to hold on to during our difficulties. We just need someone. 

 

I never knew the name of the man, nor what he looked like. I don’t even remember what street he was living on or what address he had. All I remember is that he was a man from another street who killed himself. 

 

The next morning, everybody went on with their everyday lives. Gossip kept flowing. It seemed like the guy from another street never even existed. 

 

—

 

Julia Magsombol is currently a journalism student from Edmonton, Canada, who desires to bring hope to people through her writing. When not writing or reading, you can catch her sewing clothes, painting nature and drinking instant coffee.

On Travelling

Posted on by andrew

Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Italy was one of the first countries in Europe that I ever visited. My husband had been raving about the country as one of his favourites, so my expectations were really high. Italy was not one to disappoint.

 

My husband’s and my way of travelling is not the point and click, let’s-get-to-all-the-attractions kind of travelling. We’re more the let’s-take-in-the-local-life kind of tourists. We’d rather sit in a cafe and go people-watching, even if it would mean missing out on a scheduled museum tour. We prefer to walk through a park with a friend or two rather than taking in a famous church, market and shopping mall in one afternoon. We like getting lost and finding our way back.

 

That being said, on our first day in Rome together 12 years ago, as our cab made its way to our hotel right in the heart of tourist-filled Trevi, I was amazed how its current structures had grown around the ancient ruins of this once-magnificent, almost god-like city. I didn’t have to look far to see sculptures, stone walls and obelisks. I marvelled at how Roman pedestrians seemed to take these for granted. But then I imagined myself feeling much the same way as I rushed off to a meeting in Intramuros, focusing on the traffic rather than Manila’s fair share of magnificence.

 

When we took to the streets the next day, we walked into the churches we chanced upon, whether they were well-known or not. Outside one of them, I took a photo of a bust, marvelling at how smooth the stone had been cut and formed, how the skin was really made to look like that of a human’s. Sculptures like these were all over the city. To think, what kind of craftspeople the Romans used to be!

 

We went to Venice a couple of days later, and though I had heard of this city of love countless times, there really is nothing like experiencing the real thing. I did not want to leave. My heart was smitten. I was already planning on how to stay there longer, what jobs my husband and I would do, what kind of lives we would lead, how we would raise our kids and what kind of schools they would attend. Truly, Venice was for lovers and dreamers. I remember feeling the serenity of the city’s atmosphere as we had cappuccino on our first day there, watching a mother and child as the mom got herself a cup of coffee and a gelato for her daughter, who contentedly sat on her mother’s lap.

I did grow to detest the cobbled streets, especially when my husband and I got lost for the hundredth time, but the photogenic vistas of the city just took our breath away. Being photographers ourselves, we just marvelled at how every nook and cranny seemed to just be filled with beauty that seemed to be waiting to be discovered only by us.

 

On our last couple of days back in Rome, we checked out the top reason my husband loves Rome so much, the Vatican. And just to show how much of a “feeling local” type of tourists we are, we didn’t even book to see the Sistine Chapel, we just walked around the Vatican without having to feel pressured with time to take in what we should. We stayed there the whole day so we could capture a praying man and a view of the Vatican at night, just to mention a few sights.

 

I think that is the beauty of travelling, that it seems to hold different meanings for the traveller, even if we all go to the same place at the same time. Because the beauty of travelling may not necessarily be in where we are or what we see, but what we bring to it and where we are inside. So to all fellow travellers like me, whether we are travelling far to some distant place, hoping to check it off our list, or just to get to work, let’s keep our senses alive to the beauty that reaches out to us, even if, or rather, especially because it is already inside us.

 

—

Neema Ejercito is a professional writer, director and creative writing mentor. Her 3D edutainment series for beginning readers, AlphaBesties, is showing in YouTube Japan and Prairie Kids. When she’s not writing or mentoring, she manages her household with her very supportive husband and three children.

Building Optimism from Negative Experiences

Posted on by andrew

Sasna Nawran, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

As human beings, we face numerous challenges and negative experiences in our day-to-day lives such as relationship struggles, loss of a loved one, financial crises, and many more. We go through a range of emotions. At times when everything goes wrong, we lose hope and we tend to view our life as a failure. Yeah, it’s normal to experience these negative thoughts and emotions during hard times but prolonged negativity can be harmful. It can inhibit us from reaching our goals and it can hinder our happiness. Therefore, it is important to know how to be optimistic while we go through bad phases in our lives.

What does it mean to be optimistic?

Most of the time we misunderstand what optimism is. We think optimism is ignoring our emotions or the negative situation and focusing only on the good things in life. But it’s not that. It is simply the attitude of hope and positivity. It is accepting the bad situation we are in and hoping for the best in the future. Research shows that optimism can affect our physical and mental wellbeing along with our everyday activities. By learning to cope with negative experiences effectively and by practicing optimism, we can transform our lives.

Here are some tips that I find useful to keep me optimistic while going through negative experiences.

  • Acknowledge and accept the situation.

When you are in a bad situation it’s normal to experience negative emotions. Acknowledge your feelings rather than ignore them to convince yourself that you are fine. Instead, give yourself a pep talk. You may have faced numerous obstacles in the past that you have now overcome. So believe that this is another one of those challenges that you can face and it will pass like all the others. No situation is permanent.

If the bad experience you are facing is due to a wrong choice or a mistake that you have made, then do not be too harsh and judgmental of yourself. If you have made a mistake, make peace with it, forgive yourself and try to avoid doing it in the future. Remind yourself, everyone makes mistakes and it is how we learn.

You can also talk about your feelings honestly with a close friend or write them in a journal. Even involving yourself in a physical activity that you like such as running, yoga, or simply a walk outside while enjoying the cool breeze will help you to eliminate the negativity and make you feel better.

  • Practice mindfulness

While going through a negative experience, it is natural that you overthink and imagine the worst scenarios that could happen in the future. Practicing mindfulness will help you avoid this. Mindfulness is being in the present moment rather than overthinking about the future. 

I found a useful technique to practice mindfulness. It is W.I.N. which stands for What is Important Now? When you have a negative experience and start to obsess about the uncertain future, ask yourself “What is important right now?” and bring your thoughts back to the present. Determine what is most essential to you at this time and in these circumstances. Make it your primary goal for the day. Practice this technique every day and eventually, your thoughts will be focused on the present.

  • Practice gratitude

No matter how bad the situation you are in, there will always be positive things that we don’t notice as we are focused on the negativity only. Try to think of three positive things at a time. Ask yourself, “What good things happened today?” It could be simple things like having a good meal or completing a simple task that you have planned. When you do this daily you start to notice, appreciate and be grateful for the good things around you. This will build positivity and eventually you will see a huge change in your life. This is a technique that has helped me immensely in  becoming an optimist.

  • Determine the things that are out of your control

You are not in control of everything. Some situations are beyond your authority. For example, during this pandemic some of you may have lost your jobs or some of your plans may not  have gone as expected, but the pandemic is something that is out of our control. Remember you have the option of either allowing these unfavorable situations to pull you down or embracing them and rising above them. 

We all prefer to face positive experiences and avoid negative ones. But a world without challenges or hardships is unrealistic. Therefore, learning to cope with the negative experiences effectively is the best possible way to lead a happier and healthier life.

 

—

Leave your thoughts for Sasna in the comments below — better yet, start up a dialogue with the Low Entropy community in person at a Conscious Connections meeting or online at our community site. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

Inspiration and Impact

Posted on by andrew

Grace Cheng (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Globally, the current pandemic affects everyone. There is a great deal of stress associated with the changes and uncertainty caused by this crisis. It has been shown that stress negatively impacts health. The consequences of stress can be minimized by providing encouragement, social support and care. Many of the damaging effects of stress are more likely to occur when there are no safety nets, partners, family members or friends who can offer a listening ear or help. There are many helpful and creative ways to enable remote care, provide additional support, establish contact and launch other heart-warming initiatives aimed at supporting each other during this time. It has been inspiring to observe the creativity unleashed during the COVID-19 pandemic.

 

By sharing your innovative ideas about ways to inspire and help others, you can have a greater impact on your community and country. It is one of the ways in which you can contribute to a better future for everyone.

 

Humans are naturally drawn to inspiration. In fact, inspiration is one of the primary stimuli for creativity. Having a positive attitude helps us be our best despite negative circumstances. The question is, how does one inspire others?

 

Listed below are ten suggestions to get you started:

  • Showing Care 

You can ask them questions. Show genuine interest in the people around you. Showing your genuine concern for others will make you an inspiration.

  • Being Sincere

No one will be inspired if you appear insincere or fake. You must believe what you are saying and adhere to your view of life. To show that this matters to you, it is essential to make it matter to you.

  • Encouraging Others

Everyone experiences hard times from time to time. This is a great opportunity to inspire and motivate a person to see the best in him or her and in their situation.

  • Showing Enthusiasm

If you wish to inspire others, you must be willing to express your passion. Simply by expressing publicly that you are enthusiastic and passionate about a subject, you can gain a tremendous amount of influence. Expressions of passion can be contagious, as they arouse curiosity in those around you. People will wonder why you are so passionate about what you are passionate about. Some will naturally take the time to understand what it is about the topic that interests you.

  • Seeing the Best in People

Seeing the best in people is one of the most effective ways to inspire them towards improvement. It motivates them to reach their dreams and goals. To inspire others, you should emphasize their positive qualities rather than their negative ones. You will find that inspiration will flow easily if you focus on these qualities wherever you interact with them.

  • Active Listening

By actively listening to others, you show them that they are important and that their ideas are worth considering. Eye contact is important when someone shares their problems with you. Ask follow-up questions to show them you care about what they are experiencing and want to understand their viewpoint as well as you can. 

  • Helping People Heal

Stand by them and help them build a better future, rather than judging them based on their past. By positively impacting the lives of others, you are also positively impacting your own. You can make someone happier or reduce their suffering if you focus on others’ needs. We all appreciate the gift of unexpected assistance and those who can provide it.

          

  • Trusting People

The key to inspiring others is to trust in their ability to learn, adapt, and grow. Everyone makes mistakes at some point in their lives. To inspire them to do better, we need to trust them to learn from their experiences.

  • Giving Hope to Others

The most important aspect of inspiring others is hope. It is imperative to give them hope. It is crucial for them to believe that there is a goal, a reward at the end of the tunnel, for the challenges they will face.

  •  Being a Good Communicator

You must be able to communicate effectively to motivate and inspire others. You should be aware of your voice and how you speak. The words you speak can have a profound impact on the way in which someone feels about themselves.

 

—

 

Grace has an accounting and finance background. She enjoys reading, writing, listening to music, watching movies and playing sports.

New Dreams, New Me

Posted on by andrew

Olivia Callari (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

It was September 2021 and I was getting ready for another day at work. Summer was ending, and I was at a three-lane crossroads with myself. I had just taken a semester off from university, abandoned my five-year career goal of becoming a real estate agent and was mourning the end of a three-year relationship. I remember getting up that morning feeling more sluggish than usual, with an overwhelming feeling of anxiety and a racing mind that could lead a NASCAR race. It was the first day I admitted to myself that I had absolutely no sense of direction, the first day where I questioned my purpose on this earth. I never believed when people said that life can change in the blink of an eye, until it did. It wasn’t the type of change that was visible, which can be equally overwhelming, but the kind of change that makes you look at everything you built and question whether you really want it. 

 

When I was younger, I was a performer. I sang, I danced, I acted, I created art and music. My dream was to become a famous actor and prove to myself that what I was performing would make a successful career one day. I always knew there was more out there for me than a conventional profession, one that was more easily attainable than pursuing an artistic career with a lot of success. The hopes and dreams that I had when I was a kid had left me once I reached high school, the crowds I was surrounding myself with did not believe that the life I had wanted for myself was “realistic,” and it was a very judgemental environment. I quickly conformed to their standards and settled on the idea that I would be a top-selling real estate agent, and that was all for me. Of course, this career path is far from settling, but it never felt truly fulfilling for me. Years and years of conditioning my reality to fit that goal also brought so much time where I was not in tune with my creativity, nor with the dream I had as a child. I lost my passion for the arts, and I lost my ability to let life happen for me instead of to me. 

 

Since that September moment only a mere six months ago, I transformed into someone I never thought I would be. I did not think it was possible, until it was, and then everything outside and inside me turned. The epiphany of that morning sparked a need for change, and then some. My entire inner world was asking me to follow a path I had not chosen, as it was reappearing with a lot of appeal. I decided to fall back into the arts and deemed it a risk, but I had nothing to lose. I applied to acting schools and began monologuing in my free time. I became consumed by creativity and looked at the things around me, and with each day, I allowed the things that didn’t serve my new purpose to dissipate. My hopes and dreams had changed within such a short amount of time, and with that change I was starting to feel totally different. I was learning a lot more about myself and what I wanted, and the people around me couldn’t understand why I was different all of a sudden. There was so much that was new to me that I couldn’t possibly continue to carry all of the old ways of doing things, which shocked others and myself. 

 

In this moment, I sit here, writing about how the change of my hopes and dreams brought a change in myself, and think about the person I once was. I do not know her, I can only remember what she was like, but she is no longer me. Of course I mourned her, but I know that she helped me get to where I am today. Change is constant, it’s only obvious when you are called to it. The need to fulfil a new purpose meant altering what didn’t fit it. 

 

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Olivia is a film and television certificate student at NYU Tisch and a recent graduate from Dawson College in cinema and communications. Having grown up in Montreal, Quebec, Olivia has surrounded herself with different cultures and means of creative expression, with hopes to one day incorporate it into her film and television work. Through writing and other forms of artistic expression, Olivia has a natural desire to help others overcome their inhibitions and reach their fullest potential.

Things I Learned from Colouring My First Adult Colouring Book Page

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Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

I was never about fads or following what was trending. In fact, I shunned fads to a fault. It took me a while to read the Harry Potter series, and I still haven’t read The Fault in Our Stars. And back when alternative music was viewed as “dirty,” I forced myself to listen to it to drown out the popular easy-listening or pop rock bands. There was even a time I looked down on anything pop, but thanks to the wisdom of age, I’ve come to terms with it, and I now admit that BTS and Arianna Grande are musical treats.

 

When adult colouring books became popular in the Philippines in 2015, my initial response, as usual, was “meh.” I appreciated the ones my illustrator friends were working on and supported them when they sold theirs. But it wasn’t till another artist friend gave me my own that I realized how truly awesome they were.

 

The book instructed me to choose my favourite page, and stop whenever I felt like it. From there, I learned other truths that I think are lessons I keep learning in other areas of my life:

 

  1. I don’t have to fill in all the empty spaces.

I don’t know about you, but I tend to get obsessed with white spaces in a colouring book, especially with something as intricate as the designs in an adult colouring book. With the guideline to stop whenever I liked, I learned to take a look at my work and just know when to stop.

 

Kind of like in real life. I tend to fill my schedule so that I don’t waste time. My husband’s been telling me that I tend to fill up empty horizontal spaces, whether on a table or on the floor. So when I see an empty entry in my daily divided-per-hour calendar, I sometimes have to remind myself that that’s okay, and it’s actually time to rest or watch Netflix or just do something that doesn’t have to make sense.

 

  1. It’s okay to colour outside the lines. 

 

I’m usually the type of person who is really strict about sticking to lines and making sure that my colours are even, but just letting that go in the colouring book has actually been a more creative process for me. Letting go doesn’t necessarily mean being messy. Or even if it seems like it is, it doesn’t have to mean chaos.

 

I’m still learning this lesson as a mom, especially when I wish my kids would keep their clothes clean and ironed so that I can take nice pictures of them. But sometimes, the best pictures are actually the ones of how they actually look — when they just ate chocolate cake or when they’re sweaty from running around.

 

  1. The big picture will sometimes look better if you don’t concern yourself with the little details.

 

I wanted to have a colour plan for my first page so I would know where it was headed, but I found that I sometimes had to go one colour at a time to know my next colour. It was freeing to see it all come together without my control.

 

I’ve tried so hard to direct my life in a certain way, feeling that I should have a plan and always know where to go. Maybe that works for others, but I’ve learned to accept that it doesn’t always work for me, at least not in the way I want. I’ve also learned that Someone really is in control and knows what’s best for me and is taking care of me, and I’m still constantly growing within that.

 

It’s amazing what a piece of paper with some lines and a box of crayons can do.  Like a writer friend of mine said, the reason that clichés are cliché is because they are true. They resonate with so many people. And there’s nothing wrong with that.  

 

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Neema Ejercito is a professional writer, director and creative writing mentor. Her 3D edutainment series for beginning readers, AlphaBesties, is showing in YouTube Japan and Prairie Kids. When she’s not writing or mentoring, she manages her household with her very supportive husband and three children.

The Tapestry Has Meaning on Both Sides

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Kiranjeet Kaur (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

We have excellent intentions when we inspire someone, but the real question is whether we are doing it correctly. What if the individual isn’t ready yet, but will be in the future? It is human nature to want to see results immediately, and this can cause us to get quite anxious. Let me tell you about a time when someone inspired me and it took me 20 years to act on that inspiration. That individual who kept urging me never gave up, and I am grateful for that.

 

I met a wonderful woman in my university chemistry class when I was 20 years old, and she recognized something in me and encouraged me to become a psychologist. I thanked her for the compliment, but I was focused on becoming a registered nurse and earning a degree. She kept nudging me, saying that this was the ideal path for me, since she admired how good of a listener I was and how insightful I was from my own and other people’s experiences.

 

I used to think about what she said now and then, especially when I failed several of my program’s classes, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it, since I was terrified. My parents were certain that I should only pursue a career as an RN because they wanted me to be able to make money immediately after graduation and have a recession-proof job.

 

In my third year, I pulled out of the program and became sad, believing that I had failed my parents and myself. I felt my life was finished, since I wasn’t following society’s prescribed path. I had time to get back on track, but my parents couldn’t handle the disappointment and chose to make life-changing decisions for me.

 

When I relocated to another province, my friend used to send me books and letters to stay in touch with me. I’d read a few pages before putting the book down, feeling motivated and ready to check into universities in my area to enroll in a psychology program, but something always seemed to get in the way, and at the time, it was me putting my family first.

 

I’ve finally begun pursuing my passion by taking part-time classes, which I’m truly enjoying. I value the age and experience I bring to the table, and I have had time to process the emotions I have experienced. I picture this as a lovely tapestry: the front of the tapestry is a gorgeous woven masterpiece, but when you flip it over, you can see how untidy it is, with various threads scattered about, knots tied everywhere, exposing the raw materials used. Yes, it took me time to chase my dreams, but just like the back of the tapestry, I enjoyed the road I took to get there.

 

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Kiranjeet Kaur is a married mother of two teenagers. She was born in Castlegar, British Columbia, raised in Alberta and spent most of her life in British Columbia. She has attended Mount Royal University, the University of Calgary and Bow Valley College, and enjoys reading, cooking and taking walks in the woods.

In the Details

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Bethany Howell (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

I can get into mental states that do not allow me any joy, as though my brain has vacuumed out the beauty of the world. I spent a good portion of my life seeking out cures for this feeling. Medications and therapies help the baseline, but I still find myself struggling to truly enjoy the world around me — to feel inspired. I have tried meditation and plenty of self-help books, but it all seems to be to little avail. There are so many solutions labeled “To Help Inspire and Change Your Life!,” yet in my experience, none truly work on anything longer than short-term. Finding inspiration in everyday life is difficult if you don’t know what to look for, and it is clear that many try to capitalize on this fact.

 

A few years back, I tried something new. Instead of roaming around the Health and Wellness section of my local library, praying for a miracle, I decided to reflect on the past — what helped me when I was at my best. As a child, I was easily amazed, simple walks in nature were enough to keep me entertained. My parents would find me paying attention to the little details of life, stunned by the happiness I would find there. I used to discover the magic in life — what we are all searching for — so easily. 

 

I thought for many years that my ability to be inspired by such small things as frogs and clouds shaped like dinosaurs was something that I left in childhood. I thought this ability was, in itself, immature and inaccessible when my age grew past single digits. Yet, having no other options available to me, I decided to try to seek that magic once more.

 

I began carrying a camera with me as I completed my usual daily chores. It was a Nikon, almost a decade out-of-date at the time, that my parents had decided to lend me in my late teens. I kept it with me for months on end, collecting pictures of the pigeons downtown, the smiling faces of my friends between classes and the boats in the harbor atop the glistening, snow-covered ice. I sometimes look back at these photos and marvel at just how quickly I was able to pick up the little magics in life again. 

 

I still bring my camera along for adventures some days when I am especially not doing well — a much newer edition with such luxuries as automatic focusing — but I no longer require it to find inspiration in day-to-day life. This does not mean that all of my problems have been “fixed.” I still have days where I have trouble forcing myself out of bed. However, in times like these, I like to turn to the small things. I can always find something wondrous hiding in the mundane if I truly look. I harvest my happiness riding the bus for a long trip, listening to ballads and staring out the window as though I am in a music video. The delicate shades of the chlorophyll in a leaf never fail to help me stop the buildup of negative thoughts. 

 

I find my inspiration in the things everyone else overlooks. Maybe it is because they are never appreciated that I am able to truly be in awe of them. Who else would spend five minutes of her day admiring the tiny footprints left by a squirrel looking for his hidden winter stash? The trail the squirrel has left shows a pattern that — as I analyze it — appears to embody his thought process, leading from the tree, to the stump, back to the tree. I can tell that he knew exactly where to look this time, as there is a tiny hand-dug and nut-shaped hole beside the stump. It is moments like this that make me appreciate not just the small thing I am inspecting, but also the world around me as a whole. No, my problems are not all fixed by this one squirrel’s trail, but a portion of the weight of life has been lifted.

 

Life does not instantly heal itself when you look for inspiration in the mundane, but I truly believe that finding inspiration, however small, does help the healing process. I am, in no way, completely happy in my mindset, but I am doing better and that is what matters.

 

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My name is Bethany Howell and I am a third-year university student majoring in psychology and minoring in family and child studies. I have a passion for writing and mental health, and my ultimate goal since age 13 has been to make a difference in the world through helping others, which is how I ended up here at Low Entropy!

My Four Anchors

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Cristina Crescenzo (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

On the 29th of June 2020 I made a promise, and it was that I was going to live for my family, if not for myself. It was a conscious decision that I made entirely on my own when I hit rock bottom for the 30th time. I thought that I would use them as a beacon to drive me forward when hope in myself was scarce. I understand that saying my family is a replacement for hope is kind of cheesy, but in my case it is the truth. As such, there are four people in my life who keep me anchored to the ground in times when I want to fly away. 

 

The first is my mom. She is the one who gave me life, after all. She is the reason I understand the concept of unconditional love, because she has watched her own flesh and blood fall into the lowest form of despair countless times and she has stuck by me, even at possible detriment to her own well-being. My mind can’t begin to process what it must be like for a mother to watch the child she brought into this world, through no fault of her own, want to disappear off the face of it just because her little girl doesn’t believe she is worth it. I want to take this moment to thank my mother for her unwavering strength and her support, as I haven’t made it easy for her. I also want to thank her for taking me to countless physiotherapy and counseling appointments and staying by my side during the hospital stays. But most of all, I want to thank you for seeing me and doing everything you can to understand my mental health in the times when your hugs couldn’t comfort me. 

 

The second is my father, who sadly lost his battle to cancer in 2014, and like my mother, was a big believer in staying strong amidst a whole lot of obstacles. There was a saying he used to repeat to me when I would get insecure about my handicap: “Left side, strong side.” This basically meant that I was strong enough to overcome anything life could throw my way. Naturally, I can become upset thinking about the important milestones he missed and will continue to miss, but on the other hand, it is because my father lived his life to the fullest despite being taken from us way before his time that I have to attempt to live for him. I can’t say for sure that I will live as honestly and courageously as he did because I am not my father, however I can honor his memory by being who I am and spending time with the loved ones he left behind.

 

The third is my twin sister, because she is my laughter in the silence. She is always there to cheer me up when I feel low, and I know no matter what happens I can always count on her. She was the one who stopped taking a test and chased after me when I left school crying my eyes out. Even in the times when we are apart, all I have to do is call or text her and she will be there, whether it’s in person or not. We may go through our own challenges in life, but I know she loves me and she knows I love her, because I’m a weirdo and tell her all the time. All I could ever ask of her is to never change, because she is exactly what I need; I couldn’t ask for a better version of me. 

 

The last is my brother, and to me he is the embodiment of the drive you can have when you put your heart into something. The way he strives for goals and results is inspiring! We may not agree on everything, but I know deep down he has my best interests at heart, so thank you for pushing me harder when I push back.

 

To sum it up, I wouldn’t be here without my family, and I don’t know how I could ever begin to repay them, but hopefully this is a start.

 

P.S. To Buddy, my fluffy puppy, I didn’t forget about you. Thank you for never leaving me alone for a second and showering me with love! 

 

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My name is Cristina Crescenzo and I am an English major and aspiring author hoping to bring more positive awareness to disabilities and mental health.

Genuine Hope

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Neema Ejercito (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Especially during this pandemic, people have often used the word “hope” or its synonyms to try to make it through each day. I have certainly used it on different occasions, ranging from wanting to see someone in person again to attempting to comfort someone who is sick or has lost a loved one. Being hopeful has definitely been a necessary attitude to have as the pandemic drags on.

 

Is there ever a time when it becomes negative, though? I think hopefulness turns negative when it is used as rose-colored glasses. I would associate this with the term “toxic positivity,” when negative feelings are denied, blanketed with false comfort.

 

I remember when I became a mother for the first time, and I heard about children being the greatest blessings in the world and motherhood being a gift. I definitely agree with both statements, but I don’t always feel that way. Sure, there were a lot of cheerful motherhood and parenting books, but I gravitated towards Anne Lamott’s Operating Instructions, a very honest and unpopular view of pregnancy, at least in my circle. When I heard about a friend who literally wanted to throw her crying baby out of the window, I couldn’t help but relate to her.

 

I think genuine hopefulness is grounded in reality — the harsh, glaring, explosive, maddening, quiet, boring — whatever that reality is. Genuine hopefulness sees a situation or a person so truthfully that it can see past behaviour and what is prominent, but it can’t do that if it’s not rooted or based on what is. If hopefulness becomes an escape or a mask, it won’t help a person move forward. This kind of hopefulness will stunt a person’s growth, blind them and cause them to stop being open and flexible to what the situation calls for or to what the person they are relating to genuinely needs.

 

Going back to my motherhood example, if I kept on hoping that my kids would turn out to be great adults without taking into account that my shortcomings, with even my bestest of intentions, will mess them up or that they will make mistakes that will hurt me, my false hope may gloss over their weaknesses and trumpet only their strengths. They may grow up to think that they can truly do anything or be anyone they want to be without the discipline that comes with working on getting to know themselves and their dreams, or neglect to consider whether they currently have the skills and education to achieve their dreams or better themselves, and what to do about the gap in between.

 

I can understand why people might use hopefulness in a negative way, without being aware that they are doing so, or without really meaning to do so. The other option would mean stepping outside of their comfort zones or facing a truth that is too painful to bear. In order to survive, it might feel easier for us to just keep hoping for the best, without fully grasping that sometimes the best isn’t what we want.

 

I tend to be suspicious of things that sound too good to be true, and that is what negative hopefulness sounds like to me. I also try to be careful about sounding negatively hopeful because it is easy to do. Empathizing with someone can be draining, and I’ve noticed that when I’m emotionally spent, I easily switch to blanket cheer-up phrases. When actively being present for someone is what the situation calls for, and I am distracted by what I’m going to make for dinner or what my schedule is the next day, I will attempt to speed up the time by hoping that a quick fix will be enough.

 

The bottom line is that being genuinely hopeful is not easy. It’s an active, rather than passive, word. Genuine hope changes a situation because it requires us to see something that might have been worse as eventually possibly being something better. But what we see is not always on our terms. Being negatively hopeful is attempting to see something on our terms even when it is not. I think in our humanity, it is normal to feel negatively hopeful. But I hope we are able to move past that.

 

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Neema Ejercito is a professional writer, director and creative writing mentor. Her 3D edutainment series for beginning readers, AlphaBesties, is showing in YouTube Japan and Prairie Kids. When she’s not writing or mentoring, she manages her household with her very supportive husband and three children.