Beo.Briefing
Today’s newsletter is one of my starting points in transitioning from 2022 into 2023 with compassion. I see the year as having been a process, the way the moon has always been in movement, in cycles, reflecting light.
2022 was the year of the Tiger, my Chinese zodiac.
Part love and part belief, my mom would periodically remind me that I needed to be *especially* careful with what I chose in regards to “big life decisions” and travel. I am grateful to return from this year’s experiences and travels safe and often deeply inspired. I also recognize the amount of travel 2022 stored has both exhausted me and re-invigorated the sense of purpose I get the pleasure & role to shape in this life.
While reviewing the past 12 months on my google calendar, I felt overwhelmed by all the memories that pressed into me—quick notes like “Game nite with A.”, ‘Train to NY”, and “Dinner with J.” stand in for collapsed, precious time. Images of people and places I love and have learned from glitter and flit. & then there are the memories that live in my body. Images crooning and caption-less. I turn soft from them all.
I have the project in (front of) me to continually reflect and gather meaning from my environments past/present/future. I know I do this not alone but as an integral in our collective grief and joy. I enjoy this period of time (End of November into January) because a lot of people choose this particular courage to share what they want to commemorate and change for their lives.
We can do this any time, of course, privately and/or publicly.
I just delight in our capacity for courage and tenderness when we pivot from creating body-shaming or capitalism-informed resolutions and instead dream up open space, locate and love our interconnection with every version of ourselves and one another.
I am thankful for all the people, art, music, and media that inform my self-reflection practice. Thankful for people who write blogs and newsletters and (play)lists, who then take the step to share their insight with us.
What is waxing is what is growing in 2023. Waning are identified patterns or things I am shedding, with gentleness but also resolve.
Waxing:
I. Mindfulness towards my posture (both physical and mental)
I’ll be typing into a search engine, or standing in line, or eating Thai food…when I am hit with the painful awareness that my posture is in poor shape. We’re speaking of pulled-in shoulders, arched back, straight tension. One of the things I took with me from years in high-school marching band (Yes — saxophone >u<) is how to carry yourself—literally— by the way you walk. Learning how to walk with intention has transformed how I enter spaces, approach social-anxiety, and feel belonging in new places.
But what about my posture when I am browsing, sitting, eating, particularly in solitude? How does this posture affect my perception?
Appearing or feeling confident is the outcome of being at ease. I want to start with my body when inviting more ease into each moment. Are my breaths full? What tension can I shift and release right now? God, it feels good to crack my back.
II. Knowing myself as embodied love
Reading Mimi Zhu’s “Be Not Afraid of Love” came at important timing. I kind of planned it so, by intuition. It helped me understand with compassion how I’ve lost my self in chasing a misinformed illusion of love. In “all about love”, bell hooks has shown me how love is an action; it is also a choice that must be continuously assessed. Her words reminded me of all kinds of love we can nourish in our life and how.
In 2022, there were weeks on end where I abandoned myself and people I love. Not out of intention, but out of past conditionings (by media, by popular culture) that love “looks” a certain way as opposed to individualized, complex frequencies. It took me a long time to reach a certain level of disillusionment. Plenty of sad Beo hours. Balanced out with moments of recommitment. Here, I’m committed to being earnest with recognizing how my deceptions affect my relationships and routines.
Here’s the thing, though: when I know myself as embodied love, I honor the abundance (of time, love, forgiveness, chance, luck) surrounding me. Because I am love, I am able to distinguish fear and anxiety from myself.
III. On being more private
If you have been “following” me on instagram, you are familiar with my lavish photo spills. I love curating flickr-esque bulk uploads. It’s like creating a sequence of stills from a film. I don’t think I’ll stop posting sporadically or frequently because I want to share while knowing what I post doesn’t excite the algorithm. IG-Post-engagement doesn’t affect me the way it used to when I was younger. I (re)post because I want to share simply—here you go, an image of this cabbage’s cross-section—I want to excite us.
And yet, I’ve noticed how I’ve leaned back from sharing myself in some aspects. I have my reasons, you know? I hope to cultivate this desire for privacy—solace from systematic surveillance—in considering how I form/communicate my social and creative practices. Rituals known by just me for now and across those who share them with me.
Waning:
I. Giving power to first thoughts, first feelings
My regrets are also my lessons, and this is one of my biggest for 2022: self-sabotage in the form of using initial emotions to communicate.
The first emotional response is potent because it is information on our past conditionings/traumas. When I communicate from a place of feeling hurt, I have the tendency to reproduce that hurt. I also miscommunicate my needs within myself. For instance, I see times where I could have met my needs before having asked others to show up for me (before they were ready to). My needs are usually met when I give myself more time and space to build reassurance within. I know this more than ever now.
I’ve located ways personal to me on how to disengage my hurt with the person who has hurt me but has no intention of doing so. Yes, it’s important to practice accountability. This, and it’s important to transfigure our initial emotions into a form we can safely communicate. A way that will also produce safety for the person we’re communicating with.
For me… I will retire from impulse texting/responding when I am feeling triggered, insecure, or defensive. I will take the time to question the sources of my anxiousness and do the work to separate past hurts with the present moment. I will deepen my engagement with breathing before engaging with anything else. Somewhere I read/heard that the strongest thing one can do when we are facing a stressful or impulsive circumstance is be still. In stillness, we give ourselves the chance to self-regulate and compose a response with more thought.
Often what feels familiar isn’t growth. Unfortunately, self sabotage is familiar to me as I’ve come from a dysfunctional family. I am willing to be uncomfortable if it means being better at accountability and validating my experience.
II. The power I have given my digital space to inform my behaviors
I’m “unfollowing”, I’m unsubscribing where need be. I am decommercializing, de-marketing my social media experiences at the ground level. My peace, checking/savings account, energy… are important and the ways I protect it are my choices to make.
III. Trying to be chosen instead of learning about the ways we can be compatible, complementary
Lately, I’ve been understanding job applications and the interview process as courtship. Instead of convincing someone to pick me, I reframe these encounters as entertaining the possible ways we can win together, grow & garden together. I think this can especially show up when a potential employer asks “Do you have any questions?”. Yes! How does the company practice a culture of care? How often do y’all not talk about work—and instead about rest and play? What are y’all’s communication styles? Be not afraid to use “y’all”.
It is easier fall into the groove of selling yourself then it is to focus on higher alignment.
When I look at companies/organizations as people I am interested in learning from and growing with, I keep my sense of self and worth separate from the company’s decision to hire me. I instead center on how we can serve one another, participate in reciprocity, and complement our multitudes.
I no longer take it out on myself when we don’t ultimately “match”. There are many reasons under the sun for “Thank you for applying, but…No”. I place trust in the company to know who/what they’re looking for. They know their culture better than me; if they see me not thriving there and can tell me… then I am being looked after. Rejection as a form of care. If someone else is better suited for the opportunity, it still isn’t my loss.
I am tired of deceiving myself as someone who must earn praise, recognition, love. We do not need institutionalized forms of recognition in order to be in service & communion with each other. At the same time, I acknowledge our shared grief with feeling the taught pressure to vie for resources or attention. There’s so much to mourn & so much to change.
I hope this season is incredibly inviting to your presence and warmth.
I’m in the past, present, and future—with you,
Isabel