Eram Sum Ero.

Oremus Mare.

I believe in you.

February 9, 2025

Dear creators who gather what scatter, guide who wanders, and unite the broken,

Imagine a sandcastle on the shore. It stands for a time, carefully crafted, its towers reaching toward the sky. But the waves do not rest. The wind does not wait. Slowly, grain by grain, the castle crumbles until it is indistinguishable from the sand.

Now, picture a drop of ink falling into a glass of water. At first, it is concentrated, whole, distinct. But as moments pass, the ink begins to spread, curling and twisting, its edges dissolving until it is no longer separate, but diffused into disorder.

These are images of entropy, the natural tendency of all things to move from order to disorder. It governs the physical universe, from the decay of stars to the unraveling of our own thoughts when left untended.

But there is something entropy does not account for: will.

A castle can be rebuilt. The ink, though spread, can still be stirred with purpose.

We are not powerless. We are not the sand, nor the ink. We are the ones who shape the world, the ones who choose to either surrender to disorder or push back against it.

The universe moves toward separation, but we are called to unity. In truth, in love, in wisdom, we resist the tide. To bring order from chaos is the very essence of creation itself.