Start Small

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

 

Picture this: A blank wall with nothing adorning it but a single painting. 

 

At first glance, it just looks like there’s nothing except a forest in the frame. There are billowing trees, with trunks as wide as they are tall and branches stretching lazily with their viridescent leaves. It is an expanse of greens and browns, earthy tones suiting the imagery perfectly, the complementary offset to the clinically white wall surrounding it. 

 

But once you amplify your focus, zooming into the details, you’ll see so much more. The small critters crawling stealthily up the aged bark of the statuesque trees. The rivulets from a recent rain shower trickling down the leaves, little drops stubbornly remaining as it waits for the sun to appear once more. The beady eyes of avian predators on their unsuspecting insectoid prey, flashing menacingly. 

 

And once you look even more closely, you’ll see how the steel frame of the painting has decolored with time, promises of rust emerging slowly. You might notice how the painting is hanging a little crookedly, as if someone touched it with careless hands or an aimless mind—details all overlooked in the hodgepodge hustle and bustle of everyday life. 

 

But by that same token, if you only look at all the miniscule details, you might become so blinded by each individual feature that the beauty of the bigger picture is completely lost to you. Instead, you might become fixated on removing the age stains from the painting or begin observing small imperfections on the canvas that would’ve otherwise gone unnoticed.

 

You begin to lose the ability to simply enjoy a piece of art for what it’s worth, just basking in the pleasure of experiencing and being present with what is in front of you.   

 

Life is much like this. 

 

If we only look at the bigger picture, constantly fast-forwarding to the future, daydreaming of what could be, we would miss all the features and peaks, textures and streaks, every microscopic detail of each stroke contributing to the finished “painting” of our lives. We would be splattering paint all over an empty canvas, aimlessly hoping the finished product will resemble our hopes and dreams. 

 

Sometimes, we simply must start off small—take time to luxuriate in the present and set short term goals so that we don’t get overwhelmed by the enormity of all we hope to achieve and become. 

 

I remember the days where I’d always set such an intense magnifying glass on what I wanted or hoped my future would be like to the point where I was utterly crippled by the cumbersome weight of my own expectations. This complete inability to take a step back to relish in my small victories and gradually climb towards my aspirations was completely counterintuitive—instead of feeling driven or motivated, I was paralyzed. I was static, motionless and immobile.

This inability to remain in the present, I’d later realize, was a huge catalyst for my anxiety. 

 

Now, whenever I feel overwhelmed—perhaps because work is hectic or taking on new responsibilities as a pet owner or having a disagreement with a friend—I stop. I voluntarily stop, take deep breaths to tether myself back to stable ground before I resume facing the task at hand. Whenever I see myself being drawn into the violent tempest of anxiety, driven by worry about my future, again, I voluntarily stop. 

 

But in this day and age, it can be extremely difficult to hit the pause button—especially in a world where being exhausted from “the grind” is heralded as something to feel triumphant about and being lost in hordes of busy bodies in a crowd is a mere symptom of current society. As such, when I used to hear suggestions of trying meditation, taking deep breaths, or electing to take a nap, I would perceive them as either a waste of time or guilty indulgence. I would have to remind myself in these vulnerable moments when I question whether I am allowed to rest or allowed to take a moment, that in order to flourish in any aspect of my life, I have to start at the most basic stepping stone—taking care of myself in body, mind and spirit. 

 

I found what helped most was the inclusion of therapy in my repertoire of self-care activities. It has helped me make peace and cope with my anxiety diagnosis, permitting me to rewire my brain to more productively approach situations that would’ve caused undue stress in the past. It has helped me to stop undermining my struggles or pain, assisting me in recognizing that even if someone may have it worse than I do, it doesn’t negate my feelings.  

 

And it has been instrumental in allowing me to acknowledge that taking time for myself—taking care of myself—is okay. So now, by rebuilding the connotations of what resting or stopping means—peeling away the associations of laziness from it—I haven’t been seeing past the forest for the trees. 

 

In fact, I think I can now appreciate the holistic picture and the individual features; I see the forest, but I am not ignoring the trees smattering the canvas either.  I have begun to recognize that, as most things in life, neither extreme is beneficial to me. 

 

Now, when I stand in front of the painting I mentioned at the start, I start small. Once I am comfortable with the foundation of my future aspirations, then I gradually build towards the broader picture. If I ever feel overstimulated and laden with intrusive thoughts, then I stop again to get my bearings once more. 

 

Progress to self-development isn’t a linear process, so my advice when you start feeling stressed and distressed is to just start small. 

 

 

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.

Starting Small

Jihu Lee (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

 

Can you think of any skills or abilities you acquired during childhood that are now second nature to you? Perhaps developing a love for a food you used to hate or learning a second language that you are now fluent in. You probably didn’t notice much progress until a sufficient amount of time had passed. Change accrues over time and takes patience, whether we are trying to become skilled at a hobby, see gym results or pull ourselves out of a dark place. 

 

We sometimes can’t help but wish for instant gratification, so we’re often reluctant to start something at all. But starting somewhere, no matter how far of a shot in the dark, will eventually lead us to our goal point. In the 1980s researchers identified six stages of change, the first of which is mere precontemplation, where people have no intention whatsoever of changing their behavior or lifestyle. This should indicate that even the smallest of steps counts as a move towards change, no matter how unproductive they may seem. It may feel daunting to take a step out of our comfort zones, until we start to see our hard work pay off. But keep in mind that taking initiative puts you further along the way than if you had done nothing at all, even if the beginning looks unpromising. 

 

Another key point to staying on track towards change is to be consistent with our efforts. During times when everything seems stagnant, rest assured progress is slowly happening. Imagine a leaky tap dripping water into a bucket. Initially, you might think it will take an eternity before that bucket fills up. But be patient and the water will rise to the brim before you know it. 

 

Most importantly, we need to be self-aware and hopeful during our journey towards our dreams. Doing the same thing over and over won’t produce different results. That isn’t what consistent effort entails. Instead, we must push ourselves to be cognizant of where we can improve and to stay humble so that we don’t let a milestone get to our heads. Similarly, we have the right to give ourselves credit for the work we are putting in. Just because change isn’t immediately visible doesn’t mean your efforts are all for naught. Rebecca Solnit’s take on being hopeful is that it is the balance between optimism – the belief that everything will be fine without taking responsibility – and pessimism – the belief that everything will end up in ruins no matter what. Between these hot and cold endpoints is the gradient of uncertainty where it is up to us to take action. Hope reassures us that no matter what kind of outcome we get, our efforts create the ultimate impact. 

 

Here is what we have discussed so far about working towards change: 

 

  1. Take a step: it doesn’t matter how small or if you’re doubtful of whether or not it’ll be worth it. All you need is to start, and from then on, you’ve already pointed yourself in the direction of change. 

 

  1. Just because you don’t see anything yet doesn’t mean nothing is happening: don’t be discouraged when you can’t see much progress overnight, within a week, over the course of months or even years! Change doesn’t adhere to deadlines, so always remind yourself that every effort you put in will reward you somehow, even if not in the way you’d expect. 

 

  1. Don’t be afraid to evolve: not surprisingly, in order to see change, we must change. This can mean different things for every individual. You might recognize where you lack and intensify your efforts, while another person learns to respect their own boundaries and give themselves the rest they need in order to be more productive. Whatever it takes, we have to evolve if we want to create change in our lives. 

 

  1. There is hope: it is okay if your investments didn’t produce the rewards you wanted. Even if you didn’t fulfill the goal you were aiming for, the experience you acquired in striving to reach it will surely serve you well in another walk of life. 

 

Starting out small can set off a chain reaction of progress. As a final note, I want the reader to remember that everyone lives at a different pace, and a slow journey is never a sign of inadequacy. And it is never too late to try something new as long as

you just start!

 

 

My name is Jihu, and I’m from Salt Lake City, Utah! I have been with Low Entropy since May 2021. Some of the things I love are reading, writing, listening to music, playing with my dogs and spending time with my sister!