Within the Rush

Nei (she/her/hers), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Living slowly is often imagined to be the act of physically moving slowly. Things like walking and eating slowly, waking to the sound of birdsong and never rushing to or from anything can seem like they are only attainable for recluse folks living away from modernity in the mountains. It can feel impossible to achieve slowness when we exist in the hustle and bustle of city life, responsibility and work. 

For a long time, I felt as though the thoughts in my head were moving at a pace I struggled to keep up with. As a result, I found myself constantly rushing. Wolfing down my meals between appointments, and speed walking to and from my destinations to keep up with the next thought, responsibility or commitment was normal for me.

Plus, everyone around me was doing the same thing. So naturally, life in the fast lane has become the norm, especially for folks living in metropolitan cities. I cannot count how many times I have been shoved or bumped trying to get onto a bus at rush hour. As soon as the bus doors open, a stampede of exhausted and impatient riders push and shove past one another in a hurry to make it home, to their second jobs and more.

After committing to meditation about two years ago, I noticed how much I was missing in the constant rush, but also, how I could slow time by slowing the rush of thoughts in my mind. How does one incorporate slow living into their lives when surrounded by a constantly rushing world? I have compiled a list of some of the actionable steps to incorporate slow living into a fast life. 

Incorporating Slow Habits

Whatever slow habits you can incorporate into your day, they will help you to slow down other moments. Mindful eating (meaning not eating in front of the television or just slowing down your chewing), is one way to incorporate slowness. A morning stretch routine that does not involve immediately turning to a cellphone upon rising is another. Another could just be a 10-minute daily walk, one where there is no destination, just a moment in the day that is not an intense workout, but a moment to take it slow and be present.

Meditation is one of those revolutionary habits that most people are afraid to try. Sitting and thinking about nothing for 10 minutes is a difficult feat for most. But sometimes, 10 minutes is all you need to begin. Meditation is not “successful” based on how long you can go without thinking, it’s about how to return to your focus when the thoughts start to flow. It is a great opportunity to separate yourself from your thoughts. Thoughts are like passing birds in the sky, and you are watching them from below. You do not need to follow each one and dissect it. You can simply observe the thought, and let it go. It is easier to do this when sitting comfortably and focusing your breath. If you get lost in a thought, instead of getting frustrated, simply bring yourself back to the breath and go from there. This way, you don’t get lost in the rapid flow of thoughts. 

Verbal Affirmations

The power of affirmation is unprecedented. Something as simple as “Today I will be kinder to myself” repeated on a loop throughout your day could be transformative when done daily. After a few days or weeks, you might find yourself embodying acts of kindness.

A recent practice I started incorporating is acts of kindness for my future self. These include cleaning my room before going out, so my future self can come back home to a clean room. Sometimes it means meal prepping so that my very tired future self does not need to after a long day’s work. For some, acts of kindness for self might involve a splurge purchase, or setting a date to visit your favorite restaurant or a loved one. It might also look like setting up an emergency fund or a vacation fund. Setting a kind intention for your future self, whether it be the person you will be at 5 P.M. today or the person you will be in 10 years, will pay off. Repeat the mantra until the behavior changes, set the date and treat yourself.

Redefine Productivity

In a TEDx Talk from 2019, Sandra Dalton-Smith identifies seven types of rest; physical, mental, sensory, creative, emotional, social and spiritual. More often than not, when we say we are “resting,” we mean we are sitting on our phones scrolling or watching videos, or we are in front of the television, or sometimes even reading. This kind of “rest” might be a form of mental rest, as in we are not working on problem-solving or creating new ideas, but this kind of passive activity is major sensory overload. Being specific about the type of rest you are having is paramount to defining what you consider “productive,” and can help slow down your life. 

The art of living slowly is not always easy to master. It requires intentional, small and slow habits that have a domino effect on your day, your week and, eventually, your life. Even with failures in consistency, coming back to slowness is always possible, even while living in the fast lane.

— 

Nei is an aspiring writer who finds solace in music, meditation, and long walks. With a belief in the power of conversation to make change, she’s on a journey to make her mark and hopes to share her many thoughts and personal philosophies through the pages of her own books one day.

Why I Don’t Wear a Watch

Lucas Sukutian, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
 

I wear a watch, but not in the way you might think. For me, it’s not just a tool for tracking minutes and hours—it’s a reminder of how we choose to relate to time. The title of this article is not about rejecting watches or timekeeping altogether; it’s about questioning the way we allow time to shape our lives. 

We live in a world where time often feels like a tyrant. Schedules, deadlines and reminders structure our days, and we’re constantly aware of the ticking clock. We measure success by how much we can accomplish in a given timeframe, and we often feel guilty when we’re not doing something productive. In this race against time, we can lose sight of the present moment—the one thing we actually have. 

I started reflecting on my relationship with time when I noticed how much anxiety it could create. I would check my watch frequently, worried about being late or not having enough time to finish what I had planned. It wasn’t the watch itself that was the problem; it was the mindset it represented. I had begun to see time as something to manage, conquer or control, rather than something to experience and appreciate. 

When I say I don’t wear a watch, what I really mean is that I’ve learned to look at time differently. I’ve stopped seeing it as a countdown and started viewing it as a rhythm. Instead of rigidly structuring my days around the clock, I try to pay attention to the natural flow of energy, emotion and connection. Some moments call for action and focus, while others invite rest and reflection. When we honor these rhythms, we often find that time feels more abundant, rather than scarce. 

There’s a certain illusion of control that comes with constantly monitoring time. We think that if we can just organize our schedules perfectly, we can avoid uncertainty and chaos. But life doesn’t work that way. Plans change, interruptions happen and opportunities sometimes appear when we least expect them. By loosening my grip on time, I’ve learned to be more flexible and present. Instead of seeing disruptions as obstacles, I’ve come to see them as opportunities—an unexpected conversation, a chance to help someone or even just a moment to breathe. 

The truth is, being busy isn’t the same as being present. We can fill our days with tasks and still feel disconnected from ourselves and others. Wearing a watch, in the literal sense, has never been the issue—it’s the symbolic weight we give it. When we constantly check the time, we can forget to check in with how we’re feeling or what we truly need. We can miss the beauty in a conversation, the stillness of a quiet morning or the joy of simply being. 

I believe time is one of the most valuable resources we have, not because it’s limited, but because it’s an opportunity. It’s something we can share—with loved ones, with our communities and with ourselves. Instead of guarding it fiercely or measuring it obsessively, what if we treated it as a gift? Imagine how our relationships might change if we gave people our undivided attention, without worrying about what comes next. Imagine how our communities could grow if we used our time to support one another, to listen, to care and to build something lasting. 

This mindset reflects the values of compassion, empathy and interconnectedness. It reminds us that time isn’t just a personal asset, but a shared one. When we give our time to others, we’re not losing it; we’re investing it in something greater than ourselves. 

So no, I haven’t stopped wearing a watch. But I have stopped letting it rule my life. I’ve stopped measuring my worth by how much I get done in a day and I’ve started valuing the quality of the moments I experience. Whether it’s a deep conversation, a walk in nature or a quiet pause between activities, I’m learning that the most meaningful parts of life often happen when we stop looking at the clock. 

Time is a paradox—it’s both finite and infinite. We can’t control it, but we can shape the way we move through it. My hope is that we all learn to spend our time with more intention, more presence and more care. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about how much time we have—it’s about how we use it to create moments that truly matter.

Lucas Sukutian, an economics professional from Toronto, blends his love for research with a passion for animals, books and good food. Beyond academics, he values human connections and proclaims tennis as the ultimate sport.

Made by the Present

Alfie Lawson (he/him/his), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

I find this a tricky subject to approach. After all, appreciating the present isn’t something we can record or measure. It’s how we associate with our thoughts and feelings as we race through time. So offering meaningful advice on that is a bit of a challenge. There’s a plethora of online articles and discussion boards already dedicated to such issues, many of which provide fairly similar tips for “living in the moment.”

The truth is, at least from my perspective, that this is a universal, yet equally personal conundrum. We all have worries about the future, as well as reflections on our past, and still only the present moment to unpack it all. This is completely natural, but the problem is that right here, right now, is the space for the most important thing: our actual lives. 

Of course, those experiences are individual, meaning that taking it slow and enjoying the moment is something we can all work on in our own ways. As a result, I don’t feel right giving sweeping solutions when it comes to appreciating the present. Rather, I would like to share a bit of my own journey, and why I’ve been thinking about this lately. 

At the time of writing, I’ve been living abroad for two years, and working in a new job for around 12 months. I still don’t know if either of these things are going to be long-term, so I’ve spent a lot of the last year wondering . . . what else could I do? Where else could I go?

And it’s not like the past doesn’t creep into the present either. Our old selves shape who we are and what we worry about, and sometimes impact the decisions we make moving forward. Again, throughout the year, this has materialised as viewing my current life more critically. Is this what I should be doing? Did I make the right decisions to get here?

Ultimately, however, this tug-of-war between what’s happened and what’s to come is mostly just noise. I don’t mind thinking about these things from time to time, it certainly helps me feel as though I’m making more informed decisions, but it’s not something I always need on my radar. As we commence a new year, I’ve realised just how extraordinary this time of my life has been. I’ve progressed at my work and developed more of a passion for what I do, and spent the year making memories with friends new and old, all whilst living thousands of miles from where I came from. I still don’t have all the answers, but I think that’s pretty wild, and it’s nuts that I almost didn’t realise that as life continues to speed by.

I guess what I’ve realised is that new experiences make us wonder what a new future could look like, but much of what we desire is made by the present day. Being mindful of that is vital to enjoying things as they happen, as well as to understanding what we broadly want to prioritise in life.

The crux of it is that we are always learning more about ourselves. Change is inevitable over time, and how we view the past and the future is entirely fluid. Time itself has a habit of altering our outlook on a wide variety of things. I think having the patience to process these emotions, along with a proactiveness to occasionally tweak elements of life, can do a great deal when it comes to worrying less in the present moment.

I didn’t want to write an advice piece on how we can all “live in the moment,” as there is no way to instantly make this happen. And yet when things feel a little overwhelming, take a few breaths and remember to appreciate the journey whilst you’re on it. Be proud of the experiences that are uniquely your own, and remember that the time you have matters. It really matters. 

Who knows? When you appreciate the value of something like that, maybe that’s when the race of life slows down and we enjoy it that little bit more.

Leave your thoughts for Alfie in the comments below. You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, Twitter and YouTube to stay up-to-date with Low Entropy news!

A Time Of Accessibility

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

 

I would like to think of the few things universally acknowledged, one of them is that there is a certain set of questions you are bound to be asked at one point in your life, for instance, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” and “what is your favorite colour?” or “if you could reside in another period of time what would it be?”’ This is a question I have tried to answer for myself. Moreover, it is through my own personal experiences that I understand the answers are subject to change for most people because we are seldom the same people we were yesterday. We can shed our opinions as easily as a snake can shed its own skin and whether we want to admit it or not the world influences us in everything, even in the most minute aspects of our personalities. 

 

Therefore, I have realized that because of the way I came into this world, I don’t have the luxury of thinking I could belong in any particular place in time without considering the consequences and limitations of my disability. Yet, since time travel is unlikely to happen in my lifetime, this is a mere fantasy so that I could imagine being able-bodied in any era if I wished it. However, with a question like this I can’t help but want to think logically and ponder how I could live as I am in a time that is not my own. However, if I didn’t have Cerebral Palsy my answer would be the 1950s.

 

Ever since I was 12 years old I have been obsessed with that entire decade, granted I wasn’t thinking about the ramifications of being a woman let alone a disabled one. As a preteen I could only imagine the glossed over version of the 1950s like suburbia and the Old Hollywood film systems. I always thought it would be wonderful to be an actress like Marilyn Monroe or Audrey Hepburn but again, I was only viewing it through a glittered lens so when I used to watch those films I saw only perfection and I believed that I had to follow a certain path in order to find true happiness. In my mind, I had two choices: I could be married, have kids, and live the rest of my days as a housewife or choose stardom and despite being constantly in the public eye I would have all the riches and comforts life could offer. I thought if I got to be a young woman in the 50s my life would be so simple, but then reality set in and I understood if I was living back then as a disabled woman my days would be filled with nothing but chaos and hardship. 

 

Once I decided I couldn’t answer this question as no one but my current and authentic self, I did some research and I was overcome with emotion reading about the harsh experiences of people like me in the 1950s. I would have most likely been ostracized from the community, put in a poorly funded asylum, and I would have been physically/verbally harmed on a daily basis if not worse. To put it plainly, the world during the 1950s wouldn’t be accessible to me. 

 

As a result, I have mourned for the older generations and accepted that this is how I was created and I can’t pretend to be someone I am not even if I didn’t actually exist in the 50s because if I did those would be the obstacles I’d have to endure. In conclusion, it has made me truly believe in the statement “there is no better time to live than right now” because even if there are still traces of the old ideals of the past you cannot deny humanity has made tremendous strides to make the world more inclusive and accessible to individuals with disabilities. Therefore, I could live in no better time than the present because 2022 is where I can live my best life just the way I am and constantly working towards making the world an even kinder and more accessible place for the future disabled population.

 

My name is Cristina Crescenzo and I am an English major and aspiring writer just hoping that my words can help someone in some way, and that I can always strive to increase awareness for mental health and the disabled community.