Category: Conflict

Miniscule in the Moment

Posted on by andrew

Eri Ikezawa (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

As they so eloquently tell us, “Life isn’t fair.”

 

Although this is a cynical take, there’s no denying that life brings its fair share of sorrows, tragedies, upset and challenges — no matter what walk of life we come from. The issues may vary from something as trivial as losing your favourite hoodie to something as heartbreaking as losing your beloved pet. Sometimes, you can’t even precisely discern what’s dragging you down. Nevertheless, whatever strife you may face, everyone is partial to their own methods of rediscovering internal equilibrium.

 

Personally, I rely on a tried-and-true system that helps me persevere through any obstacles I encounter — regardless of the severity of the matter.

 

First, it begins with noticing what I perceive as unfavourable feelings — anger, annoyance, frustration, dismay, anguish (this is not to say that these are “bad” feelings that one must eradicate, but they could lead to unfortunate consequences if they aren’t handled with adequate care and attention).

 

I’m always tempted to ignore or bottle up those emotions and delay acknowledging them for another day, allowing them to simmer dangerously close to boiling point — initially, it seems like the easiest, safest solution. But while it is not always the most pleasant experience singling out these feelings (seeing as how they can cause us to acknowledge negative sentiments directed towards someone whom we love or force us to face our own failures and mistakes), it is undoubtedly necessary.

 

And so, I’ve realized that labelling the emotions which catalyze me to feel out of sorts is the best way to begin searching for a productive solution.

 

Second, once I’ve comfortably ascertained what is causing me turmoil and why, I usually enter a period of time where I need to process the situation and the feelings it incites.

 

This stage is usually what takes me the longest. Formerly, it would cause me great distress, with me berating myself for not “getting over it” right away. Now I’ve come to the realization that, as long as I don’t stagnate in a period of wallowing, it is okay to take as much time as the situation warrants (and as much time as I need).

 

Converging with the aforementioned point, I also find it vital to remind myself that I mustn’t do myself the disservice of acting as though I’m fine when I’m not, and that I shouldn’t feel guilty for not always advancing at the same speed as someone else — that is to say, we don’t all emote or process the same way as those around us.

 

Once I have taken my time to process everything, I eventually come to a place where I am prepared to take concrete steps towards resolution.

 

Obviously, activities to alleviate stress and other emotional turmoil differ from individual to individual, but generally speaking, I find what brings me solace are often applicable across the board, to some degree. I find meditation, journaling, spending time outside and listening to music helps me relax and ease tension, but it is therapy and talking to my treasured confidantes that really pave the path for future resolution. Accumulating a wealth of well-intentioned advice from people who truly love me, combined with the professional advice of a therapist, provides me with a stable platform for me to step onto — and from there, I follow my own instincts to concoct a solution for whatever matter is at hand.

 

I do recognize that everyone’s life circumstances vary — sometimes, people aren’t surrounded by uplifting individuals, or don’t have access to pricy resources. In those cases, people could observe the immediate stimuli causing them detriment — whether it be toxic friends, relationships, workplaces or family — and take steps to put distance between themselves and the situation or remove themselves from it.

 

But everything is easier said than done. It takes great personal strength and commitment, while trudging through the molasses of long, tedious days when you feel bogged down, to see the light.  So, what I do is figuratively spotlight and celebrate every minor personal accomplishment during the harrowing dark of trying times.

 

I congratulate myself for knowing when it is time to relax instead of grinding so hard that I forget to eat or sleep well. I pat myself on the back for taking the long route home when walking my dog to spend a couple extra minutes in the outdoors. I acknowledge that five minutes of successful meditation is better than nothing.

 

It may seem miniscule in the moment, but sometimes, a small reminder that not everything we do is a hopeless shot in the dark is enough to get us to the end of the tunnel.

 

—

 

My name is Eri Ikezawa and I have an extended minor in psychology and a major in linguistics. I’m still on the path to quelling questions about myself and the direction I want to head in, but in the meantime, I have always wanted to find a way to help others and contribute to a community dedicated to personal development and self-love.

Pushing Past Procrastination

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Pamela Musoke (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

You lack self-confidence.

 

That’s a loaded observation. How does it make you feel when you say it? Or when someone else says it?

 

For some, admitting it is a way of hiding, using it as an excuse to maintain the status quo. It is where we would rather be, and maybe that’s enough for now. We all have our seasons.

 

Other times, it’s viewed, at first, as this massive chasm between where we are and where we desire to be, which is both scary and daunting. But eventually we find ourselves gravitating towards wanting, and soon, a call to action! Our wants trump our fears! Well, truthfully, it often ends up being more of an ebb and flow between the two states. I say this because we also hesitate as we become acutely aware of every single flaw we think may bring about failure and impact how we progress.

 

The trick is distancing yourself enough to recognize these are self-limiting views, brought on by past experiences that have, sometimes, injured the way we value ourselves. This may be one of the most aggravating, yet self-loving acts of compassion we can perform. It is a place to start, creating a road map we can follow, sometimes with the help of a mental health professional. We follow the clues to get to the seed of thought that has created enough self-doubt to paralyze us into inaction or move us to seek distractions.

 

Procrastination is one such distraction we are all familiar with. I will use myself as an example, because I tend to procrastinate when I face something hard or unfamiliar.

 

I used to think my procrastination equaled laziness. I would beat myself up for leaving tasks or projects to the last moment, usually to my detriment. But I got wiser. I began to notice my feelings when I felt unsure, and my instinct to delay. The fear of failure was so strong, I needed the pressure of time to overcome and act.

 

Exploring this through extensive journaling and help from people I trusted helped me realize that my need for perfectionism wouldn’t allow me to start. It wasn’t seen as an opportunity to learn and grow, but rather a threat — a mark of shame that could otherwise blemish my perfect(ish) record with failure. At this stage, I would be living in my own personal hell, and by the words of Dante Alighieri, abandon all hope and move on to something else that validated me.

 

And when I failed, I would rationalize my failures, which turned into rationalizing what I just rationalized, creating a vicious cycle of endless rationalizing. And as you can imagine, I would whip myself into a crazed frenzy — overwhelmed, feeling like a failure, believing I lacked the talent to excel. Such memories were hard to overcome and quickly ingrained, shaking confidence and impacting how I faced future challenges. 

 

But I turned it around, taking back some control. Procrastination has become my warning sign to pause and reflect on why I feel uneasy or uncomfortable about a course of action. And this is where step one comes into play . . .

 

I sit with my feelings for a while, trying to understand and eventually label them or describe them, being brutally honest and open about myself and my reactions. Admitting our truth can be eye-opening. 

 

For me, step two is not about slaying any dragon, but inviting it to tea. I start a friendly conversation with “Sir Lack of Self-Confidence” until I find myself thinking about recurring themes. I usually prefer to freewrite, a technique I learned from reading The Artist’s Way that helps you get out of your own way to get to the heart of the matter. It is a process I practice daily, to start the day with a positive mindset. The act itself is very freeing and cathartic, and I find solutions to challenges that initially had me in knots! 

 

Step three is all about processing. I find the underlying issue is usually my irrational fear of failing. I remind myself that I can’t fail something that hasn’t started. This helps me slow my thinking enough to recognize that these feelings are indicators of something that is missing, be it skill or knowledge. I find that once I start seeing through the trees, I get excited because I have found the inklings of a way in.

 

Step four and I am feeling better-prepared to take on the challenge. I hack complex projects into tiny, manageable actions. They start very simply, with actions that take no more than a few minutes to complete. It feels significantly less daunting and empowering. Encouraged to build momentum, I patiently work through tough entanglements, feeling more confident that I can achieve the intended goal.

 

Mind you, this can sometimes be a very slow process. I am learning to be kind to myself, choosing, instead, to celebrate that I am taking action instead of hiding.

 

I end this entry by emphasizing how becoming aware of self-limiting thoughts is a gift given to you, allowing you to dive deeper and learn about your inner world, and how you can help yourself blossom like a lotus flower. 

 

If you were to sit down with “Sir Lack of Self-Confidence,” or any other self-limiting thought, and have a friendly conversation over a nice cup of your favorite beverage, what would that conversation shed light on that you could act on today?

 

—

 

Pamela has a public health background. She enjoys reading, creative writing, and watching psychological thrillers and mysteries with the occasional comedy.

Dealing with Family Conflicts

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

 

Everyone experiences conflict with their families from time to time. It is an inevitable part of coexisting within a family unit with varying ages, views, and perspectives on life. However, it is important to not dismiss conflict at all costs. It is impossible to completely avoid all conflict. Therefore, it is important to learn how one can avoid escalation of aggression and how to deal with it with intelligence and assertiveness.

 

Conflicts are a natural and common part of family life. There are times however, when serious instances can occur and pose some difficulties for all members. You are likely to struggle with the effects of these disputes and find it difficult to live a fulfilled and happy life. In this article, we will discuss the different types of family conflicts and the most effective methods for managing them to ensure a happy life within one’s home.

 

Types of Family Conflicts:

  1. Spousal Conflicts

Amongst partners, disagreements and crises are unavoidable; however, if the couple can manage them effectively, these conflicts can serve to strengthen their bond. Among the most common causes of daily conflicts between married couples are:

  • Communication difficulties such as incorrect language, reproaches, emotional language and insults.
  • Loss of autonomy and freedom on the part of one of the members of the couple.
  • Attempts to change the other person’s attitudes and behaviors.
  • Poor problem-solving skills.

 

  1. Parents and Children Conflicts

These types of conflicts can be divided into three categories based on the development stage of each party involved:

  • In the earlier stages of life, conflicts often arise due to the development of the child’s autonomy. These situations can occur when either a parent does not understand how to grant autonomy, or they do not believe that the child is following the direction they believe is most appropriate.
  • During the teenage years, many conflicts can occur. These symptoms typically appear in adolescents between the ages of 12 and 18 years, and they are usually caused by emotional fluctuations that are common in their age group.
  • Conflicts with young adult children: When children reach adulthood their differing perspectives and understandings of how to live and organize their lives will create some friction between a parent and child.
  1. Sibling Conflicts

Conflicts of this type are among the most frequent and are also among the most persistent, regardless of the stage in life in which they occur. Arguments are usually brief and parents are not necessarily required to intervene.

  1. The Elderly Conflicts

As an adult grows older, he or she experiences several changes. There are both biological aspects, such as seeing one’s physical deterioration, as well as social aspects, such as the loss of friends or loved ones.  The elderly can experience these changes in a potentially dramatic manner which causes conflict with their family members.

 

Methods in Handling Family Conflicts:

  1. Understand the Cause of the Problem

To resolve a difficult family conflict, you need to identify the cause of the problem. The tension decreases when more effort is spent on eliminating the conflicts and more effort is put into preserving the family relationship.

 

  1. Focus on what is Important

It is impossible to win a battle with a hurricane, so it is crucial to protect what is important. If conflicts are frequent and intense, you should stop fighting the storm and focus on protecting what matters most to you and your family.  Regardless of the importance of setting and enforcing rules, you should protect the relationship you have even during difficult times.

  1. Do not Focus on the Negative

While a conflict is ongoing, you should focus more on what is good in the family than on what is wrong. It may be as simple as making a list of the positive aspects of your life to help you stay focused on your long-term objectives.

  1. Try to Find a Common Ground

An ongoing conflict can also be resolved on both sides by declaring a truce. This is the time you each agree to put aside your disagreements and engage in an enjoyable activity together that will rejuvenate your family. 

  1. Taking a Pause

Consider taking a break if you find that you’re overwhelmed by your emotions and unable to think rationally. Not all conflicts require immediate resolution. Consequently, the best course of action, in this case, would be to pause. Take some time to cool off and consider how to improve your relationship and resolve the issue. Eventually, you will be able to return to the problem and come to an understanding with your family member while being objective and open to criticism.

  1. Accepting the Family Member as a Difficult Person

This is a highly effective strategy. Accepting a difficult family member as they are can allow us to let go of the tension and stress caused by resistance.

  1. Learning how to Forgive and Forget

Sometimes, the best approach is to simply let everything go. You hold too much inside and it is time to release everything that clogs your mind and soul. Having the ability to forgive people and to forget their mistakes and wrongdoings is one of the most difficult and pleasant experiences in life. Allow yourself to let go of negative emotions to create space for more positive feelings. Create a fresh state and move forward with your life. 

 

Now that you have learned how to manage family conflicts, are you ready to take the first step to resolve them in your life?

 

—

 

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

Even When it Hurts: A Perspective on Family Conflict and Acceptance

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Se Joon Park (he/him/his), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Words are powerful. They have the power to start quarrels and end prolonged conflicts. Relationships can be broken by poorly spoken phrases or mended over wisely chosen words. This is especially evident within our families. Many people experience divides between family members over words and their unintended meanings, with effects sometimes lasting for years. Why, then, do we choose words that cause pain to those we love over words that can bring healing and encouragement? Why is communicating with family so difficult and what can we do about it?

 

Not so long ago, I, too, was a single member in the audience of a symphony of criticism. My attempt to share good news with my parents over Zoom — my acceptance to a reputable undergraduate writing program — quickly compelled my mother to begin an uninterrupted, two-minute slam poetry session on what was wrong with my life.

 

“What is the matter with you? You’re not 21 anymore! When are you going to grow up and get married? Why can’t you take a full-time job like everyone else? Your cousins in America are getting married and starting businesses. Why can’t you be more like them? Do you want to see your father die before you get married? I can’t sleep at night because I am so ashamed and embarrassed. I cannot share any good news with others because I have nothing to boast about my own son!”

 

Though we certainly had our fair share of quarrels in the past, this was the first time she had burst into tears and anger. And no one else could have crushed me into shame as my mother had in that moment. Heart shattered and mind livid, I walked to the local park with all the burdens of the world on my shoulders. With each step came a wave of pain and anger crashing deep into my soul, as my mind, against my will, replayed the scene in copious amounts of detail: my mother’s eyes filled with tears, her quivering voice that cracked at every other sentence, accusatory words that placed all the blame for her pain upon me. 

 

When my mind was finally at ease after hours of walking in silence, I was left with an uncomfortable question: Why was my mother so inconsolably upset? I wasn’t committing any crimes, nor was I bringing harm upon myself or others. I was only pursuing what I thought would make me happy. I thought they would be proud of me. As I searched through years of memory and everything that had contributed to our quarrel, I came upon three uncomfortable truths: the first two were that our definitions of happiness were irreparably different, and we would never truly see eye-to-eye. The third truth, the one that tied the two aforementioned truths into a single bundle, was the most significant of the three: our difference of opinions should never take away from our love for one another.

 

We grow upset when our loved ones express ideas that contradict or challenge our own values. I believe that this very expression of our hurt is, ultimately, an indication of how deeply we care for our loved ones and their well-being. However, true acceptance never expects our loved ones to compromise their own values for our sake. We must practice radical acceptance. Radical acceptance never forces. It accepts without agenda, embraces without terms and loves without condition. It is the only bridge that can close the gap between us, from the years of hurt, neglect and pain. Though we may not understand, we choose to love. Though we may go unheard, we choose to accept — even when it hurts. We must also understand that we do not do this alone. It is a mutual decision where we, along with our loved ones, choose to accept one another. We must be in this together.

 

It was then that I realized that my mother’s expression of hurt was only an indication of how much she wanted to see her only son get married, settle down, work full-time and have the life of her dreams, because to her, and for many other Korean parents, that was the definition of happiness and success. 

 

Both of us had a choice. We could either reject each other or we could choose to accept without the intention of changing each other.

 

Eventually, I called my parents again. I didn’t scream. I didn’t accuse. I let them know that I was happy on the path I was taking. I expressed my deep desire to do what made me happy. I also told them how much it hurt the last time we talked. After a momentary pause, my mother quietly replied with a defeated “okay.”

 

I’m not sure if my parents truly understand what I am pursuing. I’m not even sure if they were actually listening. But after a week, as we always do, we called each other again. We asked how each of us were doing and what each of us had been up to. We shared a few chuckles here and there. And, like many other families, we acted like nothing happened. Though none of us mentioned anything about the fight, I like to think that we are choosing to accept each other without the intention to change each other.

 

—

 

Se Joon started volunteering at Low Entropy as a blog writer in February 2022. He immigrated to the U.S. from Korea in 2001, where he completed all of his education from secondary school to his postgraduate degree. He left the U.S. in 2018 and has lived in Vancouver since then.

Eyes on the Road: Exploring Online Anonymity

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Jane Doe, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Please note that this piece discusses online abuse and contains a brief reference to suicidal ideation.

 

As a latecomer to social media in 2014, I decided to join it like many other artists — in order to promote my work. I was of the belief that social media would provide me with community and a helpful network from which to draw inspiration. Everyone seemed to have their own handles, domains and followers. I was enthusiastic to join the vast online world, and share my own vision of things: paintings, photographs and words of wisdom, after living in seclusion. But a few months into my online adventure, my enthusiasm began to wane. I was unfamiliar with social media jargon and protocols of engagement, including such things as frequency of posting content and commenting. I didn’t understand the concept of what was considered “private” or “public,” as many were posting publicly only. As such, I soon began to attract unwanted attention. I was unfamiliar with the term “trolling” and what it meant, but I rapidly began to experience what many people at some point have experienced online: harassment by an anonymous troll.

 

Up until then, my only reference for anonymity had been masked protesters fighting for a cause, comic book characters like V in V for Vendetta, or balaclava-ed bank robbers. Even if I had never been the victim of road rage, I could relate to the circumstantial anonymity of a road rage incident, the result of social disconnection from others within the bubble of a car.

 

But this was different. Unlike a road rage incident, I could not identify my interlocutors (or URLs) — whether it was one or 10 different trolls. Unlike a bank robber, I could not identify their motives. Trying to decipher who and how many “they” were, and their goals, began to take up my precious time. I forgot why I was on social media. Time spent creating my site and producing artwork was soon replaced with arguing and playing cat-and-mouse games with pseudonyms and out-of-focus profile pics. The interactions gradually became more sinister, until the troll began to send me suicidal ideations and other unmentionable imagery.

 

After one year, I began to suspect that the troll was someone I knew. I saw correlations between our interactions online and seeing an acquaintance on the street outside my home, in my local supermarket and passing me in traffic. There was information that the troll knew about me that I had not revealed. The worst part about this though, was that l had not one shred of tangible proof that the troll was this acquaintance, and paranoia set in.

 

A turning point came when I realized that what I assumed was my growing confusion and paranoia was, in fact, rooted in reality — there were too many real-life “coincidences” for it to be paranoia. It came to matter less to me what this troll’s motives or identity was than how they were making me feel. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality and myself. What kept me doubting that I was a victim of an online troll and needing to quit social media was my basic need for attention, which had become an addiction.

 

This situation eventually took a bad but helpful turn when the police got involved, which forced me back into social isolation. I took a two-year absence from social media, during which time I began writing poetry. Discovering poetry allowed me to develop better critical judgment — not just in detecting manipulation, but in understanding myself. I began to enter writing competitions and took advantage of free online courses, which led me to enroll in university. I had swapped my addiction to taking selfies and interacting with shady accounts, with the therapy of writing short stories and free-verse poetry. 

 

Such is the dilemma for many users of social media: questioning whether its benefits outweigh its dangers. Though my experience with anonymity on social media was negative, the opposite can be true. In sharing this experience, I have chosen anonymity to protect myself. Anonymity in the public domain protects freedom of speech and the vulnerable. It can facilitate truth-telling that, under normal exposed conditions, may not be possible. Without anonymity, I could never have relayed this experience for fear of revealing too much, or of reinvigorating a troll’s interest. Jane Does throughout history have been able to come forward with their stories, oftentimes more painful than this. Even if my experiences with social media have been terrifying at times, I recognise that there is a place for public anonymity, especially in an imperfect world.

 

The ease with which false accounts can be created and mistruths spread over the internet at the click of a mouse makes social media highly problematic. Its risk-free rewards benefit both the good and ill-intentioned. As such, it’s every user’s responsibility to themselves to be educated about the pitfalls and benefits of being online.

 

I hope never to be the target of a road rage incident some day, but if I am, the precautions to take when dealing with an angry driver are uncannily similar to those applicable to social media users: remain in your car, stay calm, avoid eye contact, keep your window up and, most importantly, keep your eyes focused on your destination.

 

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The Most Special Ones

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Sejin Ahn (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

When I was young, there was a lot of conflict between myself and my older sister. Despite a six-year age gap between us, we were constantly against each other because it seemed like we were on two different planets. Of course, that does not mean we have never gotten along well. When our family gathers, my parents often talk about how happy they were hearing myself and my sister giggling from the bedroom. But, as we grew up, we ended up fighting very often.

 

One of the most common factors that put us on a battleground was injustice. My sister is allergic to various types of foods. So when our family ate out, my sister was the one who had the power to decide what to eat. Although my favourite food was seafood, I was always forced to go to a restaurant that did not have seafood options, just in case my sister had an allergic reaction that might turn into a severe problem.

 

In Korea, older children are often pressured to concede a point to younger ones in an argument. My sister said she sometimes felt pressured to give up on an argument she had with me because our parents asked her to do so. One of the typical examples of this was when we would go to the hospital to have regular examinations. Both of us were scared of going to the doctor, just like other children who think of a hospital as one of the scariest places on Earth. Neither of us wanted to have the examination, so my sister and I always argued over who had to go first. These arguments mostly ended with my sister seeing a doctor first, because our parents asked her to do it. In such a situation, my sister felt like our parents cared more about me than my sister. Even though they asked her for understanding on that point, she thought it was unfair. 

 

Many people think a conflict or rivalry between siblings will naturally disappear as they get older. It might be true for some people, but it never worked for my sister and me. It was a fact of life to us. Even worse, our conflicts became more complicated, involving psychological factors.

 

As we got older, we were exposed to tons of different situations that the other sibling never experienced, which developed our own personalities quite differently. One day, all our family members gathered around a table in the living room to have a conversation. At that moment, a documentary about children spending a lot of time on digital devices was being played on television. Right after the narrator pointed out how bad it was for their health, my sister suddenly brought up how I was addicted to watching television when I was young, and how it negatively affected my eyesight. Since my parents were very sensitive to our health, I felt like she pushed my buttons by bringing up an unnecessary topic at a table. However, it turned out that she never meant to pick a fight. 

 

Recollecting my childhood with my sister, I realize that our rivalry played a developmental role. It helped us figure out each of our unique characteristics and explore what was special about us. In other words, it taught us how to live with each other in harmony, no matter how different we were.

 

I admit that I was a child who always wanted to be the most special one to my parents and be treated preferentially. However, our parents love both myself and my sister the same. There were only a few unique factors and situations that made them treat us differently, and that helped us understand how to accept others.

 

It is true that, as a human being, it seems to be impossible to avoid comparison. Sibling conflict and rivalry provide us with an opportunity to think about how comparisons affect us. This is because we grow up together, and we usually spend a good deal of our time together. In this sense, I think it is very important to turn sibling rivalry into a chance to learn how to resolve conflict. This way, you will be better able to coexist with others.

 

—

 

My name is Sejin Ahn, and I’m from South Korea. I am currently studying communications and publishing at Simon Fraser University. I love looking at the world from diverse perspectives!

We’ll Be There

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

 

My dad, like many, was full of sayings, quotes, jokes and idioms. One that he recycled every once in a while when the situation called for it was “You can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your relatives.” It always made me laugh, and I always thought it was true. On the more intellectual side, he liked to quote the opening line of Anna Karenina, by Russian author Leo Tolstoy: “All happy families are alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” As a child, both sayings seemed inapplicable to my life: yes, there were a few questionable uncles here and there, but for the most part, we all got along and we were a happy family at our core. The thing is, when you start to grow up, you grow into all the feelings you had as a child that you never quite knew how to process before. You grow tall enough to see the cracks that had been there all along, and you become a part of them. 

 

The first few years of my 20s were marked by tragedy and loss that found myself and my family swallowed whole by those same cracks that we had all done our best to ignore for years. I was left angry for many reasons, and I wondered why I couldn’t have had a big family that was strong enough to sustain the cracks. At the time, when it was all such a fresh break, I remembered my dad’s sayings about unhappy families and not being able to pick whom your blood ties you to, and I thought, “He was right; I just wish he wasn’t right about us.”

 

I have four, much older than me, half-siblings. I had relationships (no matter how complex or strained) with all four of them until our dad’s death; two years on, I only speak to one and her two children, who are much closer to me in age and two of my most favourite people in the world. My mum, with whom I am very close, has similar issues with her own siblings, and has since I was a kid. My mum and I are incredibly close. We always have been, to an extent, but the loss of our favourite person and walking through such a horrible time together has made us understand each other in a way we couldn’t before. Because of this, and because of the distance between us and our extended families, I’m very protective of her and she of me: we’re all we have. At least, that’s what I thought.

 

Three days before my dad’s funeral, people began to arrive in the small town that my parents and I had called home for 20 years. My mum’s two best friends, whom she had known since kindergarten and her early 20s, respectively, arrived first. They swept in, wrapping my mum in the love she so lacked from our family. They cooked for us, cleaned for us, laughed and cried with us, polished our shoes and helped us make all the little decisions you don’t have time for when you’re sad. They sat front row with us at the funeral, acting as our pillars of support and defence. My friends, whom I grew up with, came next. They were grieving my dad too, and they came to my childhood home as they had so many times before, with our favourite snacks and memories. They sat with me and we said how happy my dad would be to see us all together again, back from school and adult life. The night before the funeral, my best friends from university came. I went to university in my hometown, so they had gotten to know my parents and the rest of my family. We sat on the floor by the fireplace in my living room, and they reassured me that the speech I was due to give the next day would be beautiful and perfect. When I said, “You know, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” my friend Caiti shut me down quickly, saying, “Our schedule is cleared, tomorrow is all about you, we want to be there and we’ll be there.”

 

And they were; they all were. I stood at the pulpit to give my speech, and when I looked at my siblings, I felt the coldness, the distance that had been created. When I looked to my left, the pews had been filled with friends from every corner of my life, my mother’s life, my father’s life, people I expected to come and people I didn’t: coworkers, classmates, acquaintances. There were my friends, smiling up at me through tears, but smiling nonetheless, brightly, warmly, openly. At that moment I knew that, in this, my dad had been wrong. I had chosen my family, and they had chosen me. My mother watched me from the front pew, surrounded by her two best friends, her family who loved her through everything and would continue to do so. We were going to be alright; we had that family we had dreamed of.

 

Family division is painful, and I agree with Tolstoy that every family is divided in a different way. I don’t think that blood constitutes family; I think it’s a foundation for love to grow, but sometimes, it doesn’t work out. You cannot choose your relatives, but you can choose what is best for your health and well-being. You absolutely can choose your family: you can choose the people with whom you want to share your best and worst and middle with. What makes a true family is acceptance, understanding, joy, empathy, the ability to grieve and hold each other through everything — all qualities I saw the day of my father’s funeral, shining back at me from the faces of my friends, my family.

 

—

 

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.

All of the Above

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Alexandra Dadivas (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

As humans, one of our goals in life is to feel that we belong. We strive to find where we fit in this hurried, crowded and unreliable world. It is a common misconception that everybody has an idea of where they want to go — the truth is that sometimes you might have no idea, and sometimes you might have multiple and are unable to narrow it down. My story is the latter.

 

Youth are often seen as the spark that will carry society forward. However, many don’t realize how much pressure this puts on people who don’t even know who they are yet. From infancy, most are raised to explore the world in hopes that they will find something that will call to them and thus lead them to the career that they will spend the majority of their life in. But more often than not, this results in internal conflict.

 

Ever since I was a young child, my world has revolved around writing. From ages 7–12, was obsessed with creating short comics that spanned about a page. I had never been one for true sketching, so I always stuck to my simple stick figures, but the storylines and characters that flew through my head were always begging to be put on paper. Incredible really, how so many ideas could fit into such a tiny mind. By the time I was 12, I began to start writing in short-story format. Instead of drawings and cells and speech bubbles, I wrote descriptive scenes and dialogues. The characters became more rounded, and more complex thought was put behind my plots.

 

I stand here now, wondering if I could take it a step further — if I should take it a step further. Writing a novel would give me a sense of such fulfillment in life, and if I could simply write for the rest of my life and make a living off of it, I believe I would be happy.

 

So what’s stopping you, Alexandra? It’s a great question, and it is something I ponder nearly every single day. My answer always ends up being the same.

 

While I have been actively exercising the literature-loving side of me, a scientist part has been silently growing in the background, too. A natural sense of curiosity has gripped me since the day I came into this world — I’ve always wanted to know the invisible systems that made it work. Science is something that I could easily find a place in, and I could not think of a better way of finding where I fit in society than helping humans heal. Landing somewhere in health sciences would allow me to look back on my life and think, “I made it. I made a difference.”

 

“Follow your passion,” some say.

 

“No, don’t do that, follow the money,” others retort.

 

“Perhaps you’re better off simply doing what others think is best for you, because surely you should have picked a career by now.”

 

All of these comments and opinions can get extremely overwhelming, especially when it comes to something as big as your life’s purpose.

 

In truth, it is not a question of passion or money or external opinion. It is a question of which side of myself I want to put first.

 

It is a near-impossible question, and if you have come this far for the answer, dear reader, I’m afraid I cannot provide it. It can be terrible really, to feel like you are being tugged one way and then pulled equally in another. It can tear you apart. At times, it may feel as though the world is asking you to reduce yourself to merely one side of your dice, without the allowance of seeing what the others can offer. My only advice to you is to keep rolling. Yes, in the end, you may have to only focus on one of your sides for your career, but please allow light to shine on the other parts that have created you as a character. 

 

In conclusion, it is okay if you have a whole gallery of ideas of things you want to do with your life, or if you have absolutely nothing that comes to mind, or if you rest somewhere in between. You might worry, “Where will I go from here?”

 

Well . . . you could go anywhere.

 

Isn’t it exciting?

 

—

 

Hi! My name is Alexandra Dadivas and I’m going into Grade 11 with the goal of being in healthcare sciences. Avid reader of young adult fiction!

Simulated Conflict: Video Games and Catharsis Via the Virtual

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

 

I don’t know how many other parents would say that they are pretty up-to-date with what their kids are playing. As for me, I don’t think it’s a parenting style, more like a me thing. I guess I can thank my youngest brother’s influence on me (yup, we did the role reversal thing way back when) for getting me into video games.

 

In high school, I remember hours and hours of playing Street Fighter with my brother because no one else in the family would play with him. He’d beat me every time, but I kept playing. Of course, I’d get fed up too, and that’s when he’d say, “Please? Another round?” with begging eyes. I’d acquiesce, only for him to let me win and, once he’d see I was feeling a bit better, beat me again and again before I wanted to call it quits again. And the cycle continued.

 

I tried different types of games, but the hack-and-slash types were the ones I loved the most. I loved Prince of Persia at a certain point and Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, but one of my all-time favourites is still Typing of the Dead (I can hear the voiceover say the title right now, complete with the perfect pauses). Mindless and satisfying. And yes, it definitely fills the nerd void in me. Lately though, my second son introduced me to two games that have been particularly helpful during the pandemic, and of different genres at that.

 

When my son told me about Persona 5, I was intrigued. When I finished the game, he actually reminded me that I had seen him play it a couple of times and always commented about the art. I still find the visuals amazing, and I grew to love the soundtrack as well. I fell in love with the story too, especially when one of the settings was in an art museum. Oh, and what really, really grabbed my interest was how Japan was portrayed. Again, the art was amazing, especially during the time of the pandemic, and I was able to reminisce about my trips to Japan and somehow felt like I was experiencing them all over again.

 

To be honest, winning in the game made me feel like a winner in the real world. At a time when everything seemed so uncertain, when the nature of COVID kept changing, when death and sickness was just way too close to home, I loved defeating the bosses, or even when I failed, keeping on trying and trying. I know that it would be easier to win on-screen than to know when I’d get to work out at the gym safely again. The victory over the simulated conflict in the game purged me of the emotional roller coaster I had been feeling, if only for a moment. I also have to admit that I kept playing the game to keep feeling that release.

 

A friend working in the gaming industry observed that he actually became busier since the pandemic hit because everyone was always online. While part of me celebrated with him (since, hurrah, he was earning more as well!), I realized how games even became more of an escape, especially during the pandemic. It saddened me as well as cheered me up. I was sad to see how much relief we needed but happy that video games were another outlet, when we seemed to be running out of those due to the nature and longevity of COVID.

 

More recently, my son introduced me to the horror genre through Little Nightmares. Japanese role-playing games like Persona 5 are still within my gaming comfort zone, I would say, but scary ones would not really be my first choice. I’ve tried and liked Silent Hill and Fatal Frame, but I did not finish them. I still cannot get past the first Resident Evil. But finishing Little Nightmares provided that perfect formula of art, story and puzzle for cathartic satisfaction that propelled me from the mire that has become everyday news of dread.

 

I have personally met a few people who are completely against video games and their influences, and I do understand their perspective. It’s unfortunate when parents don’t understand how much games help our kids though, especially when they don’t play video games and see how much our technology is actually gamified. I have, thankfully, benefited from the positive effects of video games and have found in them the ability to relate to my kids in another way.

 

—

 

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.

 

Supposed to Be

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Anna Bernsteiner (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Please note that this article contains strong language.

 

Who are you and who are you supposed to be? That’s an interesting conflict right there. Ever thought about the person you could be if you stepped out of your comfort zone now? No more waiting, no more procrastination. No judgment holding you back. What would you do? 

 

On my bus rides to school (I’m a college kid now, my mum is thrilled) I usually get the best ideas. I say usually because most often they are the most random things. 

Like a week ago, I decided I wanted to run a half-marathon. 

Well, every day I wake up early (I regret listening to my stubborn head) and run for as long as I can . . . which sometimes is only 15 min, but I’m doing it. 

A month ago, I decided to stop feeling bad about where I am (Europe) and decided to take advantage of that European passport and travel to Portugal and Rome and Greece. I booked it and I’m going.

A couple of days ago I thought, man, I want to try and do something creative, and bought tools to make clay earrings. 

And just this fall I decided to start a podcast, and that’s what I did. I have four followers, which I’m so proud of, and they are not at all my cousins.

I started doing all these things because if I don’t start doing the things that I want to do, how can I ever be the person I’m supposed to be? 

So every time I have an idea, I write it down (it doesn’t matter how nuts it sounds) and do it. It might sound easy to you, but how often do you think of starting something and never do it? 

 

Life sucks sometimes and we all go through the bad shit and the good days, but life is too short to be someone you don’t want to be.

If you have just been thinking about something that you always wanted to try, here is your chance to get up and do it. Doesn’t matter if you suck at it. 

Be who you are supposed to be and don’t look back!

 

—

 

Hi, I’m Anna, I’m a student and I write blogs for Low Entropy. In my free time I like to explore new countries and cultures, try new foods, languages and meet new people, and I try to write interesting articles 🙂

That Will Teach You

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MacKenzie Chalmers (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Everyone deals with conflict at some point in their life. Conflict with friends, family, co-workers, or classmates — it can occur in any situation and with any individual. We have disagreements or arguments with others and have to figure out how to solve them. I have been in several situations of conflict, but often found a way to resolve it. However, there was a case where I found myself in a situation where I got even with the other person — it was not planned, but the opportunity presented itself and I took it. 

 

It was my first year of college. Group assignments had not been too common within the first year, but unfortunately I was not able to escape them entirely. We were placed within a group that was pre-chosen by the professor — another unfortunate factor of group assignments, as we are not familiar with the work habits of people we do not know. Each group was given another program in the school, and we had to advertise that program. We were required to communicate with the head professor for each program and organize a time to conduct a meeting with them, and to come to different classes to get the photos to go onto the advertising poster. Once that was done, we were required to do a presentation to the class. 

 

The ideal group dynamic should have been a group chat with all of us in it, so that we could engage with one another. We should have decided as a group the type of photos we wanted to include in the assignment and split up the images so that we did not take similar photos. We should have decided together how our presentation slide show would go and the pieces of information each group member would provide to the class.  

 

In my situation, that did not happen. I took on the role of leader in the group. I was the one to maintain contact with the assigned professor, as well as the professors for the classes we needed to take photos in. I had to contact each group member individually and relay information to each of them, as they did not want to meet up or have a group chat. I had members cancel on me when scheduled to take photos for the assignment, leaving me to go alone to the classes. I had a group member take photos that were not completely related to the assigned program. Another member stopped responding to messages, and it took myself and a friend of his who was in another group to get him to send me his photos. The third group member prioritized gaming rather than taking a few minutes to send me his photos, despite the fact it was the night before the presentation. 

 

The morning of the presentation, I got the work from my last group member and discovered that the other two were not showing up to the presentation. I went into the presentation frustrated. I am the type to have my work done days before and not minutes before. Looking at the slideshow, I discovered the group member’s photos that I received that morning looked similar in content to mine, and decided to make him go first. Logically, it made sense for him to speak first, since I knew more of the material and was covering my part and the two parts of my group members. It made sense, but I also had a feeling of satisfaction knowing that the other student was not as informed of the details of the assigned program as I was — which was not my fault, as he had a responsibility to make an effort in the group assignment. He did not know the basic details of the program, despite the fact he had come with me to the first meeting with the professor and I sent a detailed email to everyone about that meeting. He provided little detail and quickly finished so I could start speaking. 

 

It felt satisfying because the entire class and our professor witnessed the lack of information he knew. It became evident when I began speaking that everyone could hear the confidence in my voice as I relayed the information to the class without hesitation. During question time, the class directly asked me the questions about the program and barely looked at him. I felt like I got even because he was required to speak and proved that he did not do much work, sort of embarrassing himself — at least, I would have been embarrassed if I did not know the information and it was clear to everyone else. 

 

Overall, I got even with one of my group members. Did it make me feel better? Did it solve the conflict? Yes and no. 

 

My decision to make him speak first, knowing he did not know as much information as me, made it known to the class that I did more work than he did and put more effort into the assignment. However, it did not solve the conflict or make me feel better afterwards. I felt the brief satisfaction of having everyone know I did the work and he did not, but it was out of my nature to act in that manner. I am the person to help someone out when they are struggling, but I did not jump to help him when he was clearly not aware of the information. I think my frustration at each member took over, being the main organizer and not receiving help with a component as simple as putting a slideshow together. Additionally, it did not solve the conflict. We were receiving individual marks for the assignment. Regardless of the struggles, each member did take their own photos, allowing them to earn a mark for that, and only losing some for not showing up to the presentation. 

 

I got even, but the conflict was not solved. The professor was not aware of the conflict occurring, due to the lack of participation from the rest of my group members. He was not aware that I did all of the planning and preparation myself, nor of the effort I put into the assignment. If I had communicated the conflict with him, then I could have resolved the conflict or at least improved the situation. It can feel nice to get even when in a conflict with another person. But focusing on getting revenge on the other person does not solve the problem, it just buries it.  

 

—

 

MacKenzie is a digital media enthusiast with interests in various aspects of media. She takes part in novel hunting, photo and video creating, and creative writing.

 

Sewing Hearts

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

 

I believe that if there was an intro to self-confidence class offered to me at school, I would be the first one to sign up because I, like many other individuals, can be self-deprecating to a fault. It has gotten so bad that I use putting myself down as a form of humor to get others to like me. Thus, I understand that learning to be confident in who you are is something that can take your whole life. That is what is so great about childhood, because those were the days you could get up in front of strangers and belt out a tune at the top of your lungs! I think sometimes we forget about the fearless child within our hearts as we age and start to criticize everything and anyone.

 

Therefore, in my personal opinion, the concepts of perfection and normality should be thrown out the window, because society has made the line between the two so thin that you could easily fall off trying to get across to the other side. Take self-confidence for instance, people will say if you are overconfident you are a snob, and if you put yourself down you are weak, so in society’s eyes there is no right answer to a question it created. There are always going to be opposites within the human experience, and yet we contradict ourselves by calling each side of the spectrum a flaw, so it is okay to be frustrated by these invisible guidelines. 

 

I have always wondered why we can’t keep our childhood mindset that tells us we can be anything we want. Once some people lose that blissful ignorance, they start to become uncomfortable in their skin. I want us to be able to sew our hearts on our sleeves and talk more often about a topic that affects many lives. I cannot help but think that, through time, we have gotten further away from what being a human actually means. We are meant to be one hundred percent authentic from the day we burst forth into this world, but we then spend so much time covering the human traits that make us special. Consequently, anyone who strays or questions this way of life is a liability, so we have been taught to belittle ourselves down to the smallest detail. 

 

Furthermore, we want to pretend that we aren’t restricting individuality when the most important facets of becoming who you are have little rules written on them, and we continue to put a veil over this reality. In conclusion, in a world where we are supposed to have freedom, I can’t help but feel that there is another hand guiding me toward its own best interests. My advice to help push against that hand is to take the time to remember who you were and what you believed in as a kid, because our lifetime supply of self-confidence is buried deep inside us. All we have to do is dig it out.

 

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Cristina Crescenzo is a 21-year-old aspiring writer who really loves contributing to the Low Entropy blog and its many thought-provoking topics in the hopes of one day writing novels to spread disability and mental health awareness.