Like this drive, the past month has been a barrage of sensory and emotional experiences.

I wanted to write a piece about Lao New Year, which passed a couple weeks ago. Always a special holiday for me, but the topic didn’t fully encapsulate everything that feels alive right now. The container within which I usually write, making meaning with each season and the rhythm of the natural world, can’t quite hold it all. It…

It’s homecoming to NYC. It’s dancing at Disco Tehran with Ji and Mon, breakfast in Herbert Von King with my favorite people, art shows and openings that both inspire and overwhelm. It’s holding my friend’s baby at his wedding. It’s reconciling, achingly, that a place can be home but not where I live, not everything I need.

It’s a one week trip turning into three after a cascade of sickness. It’s meeting my partner’s family and getting to be a lens through which they see each other. It’s returning to the Bay, breathing in the Monterey cypresses, feeling so lucky to live in such a beautiful place. It’s dancing in the rain with my best friend.

It’s witnessing two beloveds witness their mothers through cancer. It’s a soul sister sharing moments from her dog’s last day. It’s my family’s first Lao New Year without my grandfather. It’s knowing that every day, lands I love are being ripped apart by war and greed.

It’s FaceTiming my dad to show him how I made his chicken rice soup, hearing him acknowledge that he’s getting older—a big deal, because the man is a forever 18 year old. It’s hanging up, letting the grief wash over me, and in the next moment hearing my neighbor start their nightly saxophone practice. It’s the sound of Golden-Crowned Sparrow joining in, and the pleasure of knowing its song.

We talk a lot about joy and sorrow, how they are inevitably one in the same. But getting it here 🧠 is different than getting it here ❤️

That said, I’m not sure that even encompasses what I’m talking about.

What I know for myself, what I hear from beloveds, is that it is a lot right now. Highs and lows at the same time, pulling us in opposite directions, sometimes apart. Standing in awe of our capacity to hold it all, wondering when we will break—or if we already have.

Maybe we were always meant to let the edges burst and just swim in it all.

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Delightful things I’ve been loving

Crafts & public libraries! The 30-year-old crafting obsession has landed. I attended a free library workshop on weaving and now it’s all I want to do. Highly recommend checking out your local library’s program calendar.

LoveShack! Dear friend Ayesha has the most electric POV on pretty much everything. I’ve been loving their recent writing on money and values. This piece in particular shifted how I think about desire and spending my time.

LoveShack by Ayesha S. Hussain

💗 Off The Beaten Path

For those of us who have an inner calling to do things a little differently, life can sometimes be a roller coaster trying to figure out in which direction to go, especially when there’s no path in front of you. I’ve spent 15 years (arguably my whole life but it was without any intention in my early years so we will start when I …

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5 months ago · Ayesha S. Hussain

Fluent! An old friend and collaborator, Yari, writes the coolest pieces that weave pop culture, social impact, astrology, romance, fashion, and so much more. I loved her recent report on who’s getting it right in culture vs. who’s missing the mark.

Yari Blanco

Issue 03: Yahoo & Buffalo Wild Wings

Hi :) I'm excited to share issue 03 of the Blanco Studios Report with you…

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4 months ago · Fluent by Yari Blanco

Random Substack Discovreies! I recently stumbled across this piece by a writer in Hanoi that resonated with something deep in me.

Elementary school.

Midday.

More than forty of us in a classroom.

Back from the playground, sweaty, restless, complaining.

It was always too hot.

The kind of heat that clings to your skin.

Even the fans didn’t help.

Some days there wasn’t air conditioning at all.

We would lie there and complain.

Say we couldn’t stand it.

That it wasn’t going to pass.

The woman who watched over us would always say the same thing:

“Just lie still. It will pass.”

We never believed her.

But after a while—

it did.

Not all at once.

You’d still feel the heat.

Still feel the sweat.

But if you stopped moving,

stopped fighting it—

it would pass on its own.

Giang In Translation

Just Lie Still. It Will Pass.

I rushed out of the café. It was almost 11 PM. The security guard was locking the scooters together before leaving. He helped me push mine out…

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5 months ago · 41 likes · 9 comments · Giang Pham

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Listening, Reading, Watching

Listening:

• Mariska Hargitay on Good Hang with Amy Poehler. I generally love Amy Poehler’s podcast, but this episode in particular had me LOL’ing in the car. Who knew Olivia Benson (and Elliot Stabler) could be so funny?

• Know My Name by Chanel Miller. I’ve been working on this one for a while, and it’s working me back. I love the audiobook because it’s powerful to hear Chanel’s voice tell her own story. Engage with care and trauma-informed tools.

Reading:

• A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers. Optimistic 👏 sci-fi 👏 Imagine where we’d be if stories that help us imagine better worlds were just as popular as those that showed disaster? How much of literature is forewarning as much as it is self-fulfilling prophecy?

• Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher. A fucked up dark fairytale that honestly got me a little spooked at night, but was sooo satisfying to read. I love this author because her characters are textured and usually over the age of 30 (a rarity in a fantasy market saturated with teenage heroes).

Watching:

• Beef (Season 1). Yes, I said Season 1. I was stressed AF watching it when it first came out—I was still stressed, but it was more satisfying this time. And now I can watch Season 2!

• Grey’s Anatomy. One of my comfort shows that I’ve seen a million times, but honorable mention because Mak is watching it for the first time so I’m riding along with her.

If you get something out of these writings and are able to be in financial reciprocity, I invite you to upgrade to a paid subscription. $8 a month or $88 a year means the world to me 💸

Subscribe now

With love,
bp

There’s poetry in how, as half of Earth is easing into warmer weather and longer days, the other half is experiencing the opposite—autumn equinox in the southern hemisphere, welcoming the chill and slowness of a darker season. The gift of balance.

Since I am writing from Turtle Island, I am coming to you having just enjoyed the spring equinox. My home in the Bay Area is experiencing a heatwave this week, while I am currently in NYC where it’s brick AF. Two vastly different climates in two places I hold dear, at a time of year when the oncoming warmth promises to loosen winter’s frozen teeth. There’s a poem somewhere in there as well.

To make meaning in this transitionary time, we tend to ask: What seeds are you planting? Sometimes with the counter-question: What had to decompose this winter to fertilize something new?

While I am all for release and new beginnings, I am also thinking about spring in the context of all that is occurring in our world. Polycrisis. Collapse. So I’d like to invite some expansion to these questions.

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Dinner Party Conversations

Last week, over dinner with beloveds and reflecting on the state of the world, I was reminded of two things:

1. While more people are awakening to the fact that the world is on fire, the world has been on fire for a long time for Indigenous folks, Black folks, communities who racial capitalism has exploited from its inception. And, the fire is getting hotter, more destructive, and there’s no going back.

2. History will attempt to erase the truth and atrocities of this time, as it always has. Our most basic duty is to witness, to mark this in our memories so we may carry the story to future generations.

I was also reminded of conversations with cherished teachers that I find myself returning to, time and time again, as a way to orient:

Listen to these when you can, but for now, here is how I am alchemizing the wisdom:

We are in a time of collapse, the “long dark” as Francis Weller calls it.
Of course, we preserve what we can.
Of course, we love what is here, while it is still here.

And, so much of what we are losing is already lost.
Perhaps it was always impermanent, always meant for metamorphosis.
So maybe it is less about what can be saved—
and more about who we want to be through it
and what we want to create on the other side.

Planting Seeds

I wrestled with this piece, conscious of the privilege inherent in writing a Substack pondering the meaning of these times and my role in it.

And yet, we are all interconnected. We must all play a role. Our choice is in how much care and intention we bring to it.

So as we reflect on this equinox,
where the dark and light meet,
a season of endings as much as beginnings,

what will we love into death?
what will we remember for a better future?
what will we sow for the other side?

Lingering Thoughts

• This is all (and probably will always be) in process as I listen and re-listen to teachers, learn from new ones, and alchemize through my own lens. Welcoming any and all additions, ideas, etc. to orient together.

• Matthew and I have been obsessed with this 10 year old who proved that butterflies retain memories from when they were caterpillars, and pass them on to at least two future generations. There’s poetry in this idea of retaining memory through the mush of the chrysalis, but I couldn’t quite weave it into this piece, so I’m dropping it here for your enjoyment!

• This talk by Kazu Haga on death doula-ing a dying empire is at the top of my “listen next” list. I’ve gotten some downloads through Matthew though, and many of them have influenced this piece. If you listen before me, lmk what you think.

Become a Paid Subscriber

My dear friend, Ayesha, became the first paid subscriber to good relations, inspiring me (i.e. lighting a fire under my ass) to write more consistently as I’ve wanted to do for months.

While I am finding the balance between commitment and spaciousness, I have loved the comments, responses, and offline conversations that have sprouted from the last couple pieces. So expect to see more good relations in your inbox, likely in rhythm with the seasons, and please keep reaching out and relating!

If you are resourced and feel moved, I welcome reciprocity in the form of paid subscriptions. It’s $8/mo or $88/yr. You might think of it like connecting asynchronously over coffee once a month :)

Winter Joy

From left to right:

• Top row: the Klamath running freely into the ocean, mushroom tie-dye at Fungi Fest, one of many trips to the Redwoods over the past couple months

• Middle row: Bruno enjoying the sunset with my parents as they bop around in their new camper van, a walk in Purisima with beloveds, Misu being silly as usual

• Bottom row: fungi friends in the Redwoods, excited squealing hugs in the middle of the street, sunset over the Pacific

All of it, a gift.

Inspiration

Reading:

• The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune. After finishing my first quarter of grad school (yay!) I needed an easy, sweet, imaginative fiction to cleanse the palate. Klune served, and also got me weeping on the plane in the best way.

• Know My Name by Chanel Miller. A memoir by Emily Doe in the Brock Turner case. It’s rare to find a book that’s as inspiring as it is heavy; I’m about 50% through and taking it slow, but highly recommend if you have the capacity.

• Inciting Joy by Ross Gay. This book of essays came highly recommended by my literary sister, Helen, and I thought, “Sure, I could use more joy.” The first chapter was absolutely devastating. The following text exchange ensued. Still, a gorgeous piece of writing where joy and sorrow become one.

Watching:

• Like most people in my life, I am keeping up with The Pitt and Shrinking, which are taking up most of my emotional television bandwidth. More next month.

Listening:

• See above!

With love,
bp

There’s a lot going on in the stars and across cultures right now! To name a few:

• On Feb 12th, Saturn transited out of Pisces into Aries—also marking the end of my Saturn return 😮‍💨 (more on this via Embodied Astrology).

• Friday the 13th, with significance related to pre-Christian-domination Scandinavia (a brief overview here).

• Today is a solar eclipse AND new moon in Aquarius (more on this via Chani Nicholas).

• Today also marks the new lunar year and, in some traditions, the beginning of the Year of the Fire Horse (more on this below).

• Tomorrow is the first night of Ramadan, the ninth month of the Islamic calendar. While I admittedly don’t know too much about this time (if you do, please feel free to share), I understand it as one of prayer and deep reflection.

I marvel at the abundance of ways we make meaning about the world and our experiences in it—creating a “shared text” as my friend Lisa would say. What does this time mean for you and your people?

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For my family, today is Tết AKA Vietnamese New Year, which is usually a time for us to gather, eat good food, and put Jimmy John’s on the altar for my Bà Nội (she loves an Italian sub). Beyond knowing I was born in the Year of the Boar, I never took much note of the elements or animals associated with each year.

Recently though, there’s been an uptick in public discourse around LNY, particularly this Year of the Fire Horse. Social media posts about galloping into action! Horse decorations at Crate & Barrel! A whole section at Target devoted to LNY merch!

While I am tempted to dive into the cultural roots of LNY, that’s not the focus of today’s message. I do encourage you to do your research and be mindful about how you engage!

Keeping aspects of commercialization and appropriation in mind, I can recognize the yearning to make meaning in this time of polycrisis. It’s actually encouraged me to reflect on my own ancestral traditions and how I want to relate to this time, to this opportunity to connect to purpose.

I recently started vocal coaching with the marvelous Paola de la Concha and it’s been cracking me OPEN. I hold the intention of getting unstuck in my sound practice, deepening my relationship to music medicine, and learning to be of service through this type of expression. So for the first time in my life, I am vocal training without a right way to sing. Instead, every week, we simply vocal tone with a syllable. Paola’s instruction:

Receive the sound and allow it to move through you.

While not forcing the sound from myself. And breathing into my belly as deeply as possible. And quieting a mind that’s loud with decades of technical training.

Even with the mental gymnastics, there are moments where something clicks. I hear the frequency of these sounds that have been sung for a millennia, that are being sung around the world. And then… they move through me.

That is what Year of the Fire Horse means to me. Listening, receiving, moving it through.

What "it” is... I’m not sure yet. But I think about Francis Weller, a beloved teacher who talks about the alchemical process—adding heat to a vessel so what’s within doesn’t calcify, it transforms.

My body, mind, heart, and spirit—a vessel. All my resources this year—vocal coaching, grad school, Indigenous Psychology with Braided Wisdom, the privilege to sit retreat or ceremony—heat. Something within to transform and move through.

What a beautiful way to also make meaning of these times. Polycrisis—heat. Can we allow our collective body to be a vessel for transformation, a channel to move something greater through?

All of this emerged from conversations with beloveds, and since this is good relations, it feels important to share what is moving through them as well. Meaning-making is richer when we have more threads to weave with! Perhaps you will see some of yourself in these reflections and know you’re not alone, or perhaps something new will arise.

Note: These are not exact quotes. Rather, I paraphrase and contextualize to better fit the format of this newsletter. If you have questions or concerns, please reach out and I’d be happy to discuss, liaise with folks for clarification, etc.

In talking with Matthew, I walked away with the word “aliveness.” Being fully alive in these times. A simple yet powerful way to approach the deluge of content, emotions, etc. that we are dealt everyday.

In talking with Jackie, I am hearing a desire to create community gatherings. Craft, make things with their hands. Speak more. (Btw Jackson is one of my favorite creators of all time and I highly recommend following their art as it evolves this year.)

In talking with Phenix, I am holding both/and. Horses bring up tenacity and grit. Evolutionarily speaking though, horses are also very fragile; they tend to have a lot of health issues. So we need to be in partnership with them, you need to earn their respect and there needs to be clear direction. In terms of what is moving through her this year: deepening spirituality and connection to the land, especially in activist spaces. (In addition to being one of my best friends and soul sisters, Phenix does incredible work within environmentalism, and embodies deep integrity and spirituality in how she does it. Follow her work here.)

In talking with Helen, here are some paraphrases that came up: The wood snake I see as the tinder, the base for the fire horse that’s coming up out of it… one leads to another. We have been through deep growth in the year of the snake, and I want to acknowledge that while not putting any of the shedded skin back on. Yes, we’ve come out of the year of the snake, but working at the speed of productivity that capitalism has demanded of us doesn’t work. The idea of using the momentum of fire horse for that feels like intending to start a camp fire, and instead starting a forest fire. So I am very protective of my flame in this moment. I want to make sure that it heals and doesn’t harm. (Such a poetic and tangible way to think about it, from one of my favorite artistic minds.)

In talking with Ayesha, I was reminded of how much is going on this week! Friday the 13th (a significant day for witches). Valentine’s Day (capitalism and heteronormative romance aside, what’s better than a day to celebrate pure love). Lunar New Year. A chance to convene with different parts of society, cultures, ways of being, ways of celebration, ways of marking time, ways of convening with the natural cycles of things. I love Ayesha’s way of diving into lineage, seeking the stories and what we are meant to learn, allowing them to be a guide towards community, more humanity, more love. I also loved their nuanced take on Year of the Horse as a metal horse themselves—and with mostly fire in their astrological chart. A lifetime of working with fire; learning to love it, be one with it, understand it—thus, feeling poised to interact with it this year. Whatever that may mean, it feels like an opportunity for transformation, being molded into something brand new. In the Chinese tradition, it also considered bad luck for it to be your year; I learned from Ayesha that it’s because it challenges the god of aging. So in your zodiac year, you are meant to be humble, not take any big risks, and pay your respects to Tai Sui. The word “routine” came up: working towards a steady, centered, stable pace of doing things. What’s more “horse” than that?

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KINship at HeartLab

For the first time ever, I’m facilitating an offering in the Bay! The fourth Thurs of every month, I’ll be at HeartLab in the Mission for KINship. Part workshop, part guided hangout—slowing down, dropping in, and remembering what it feels like to be in real connection with yourself and with other humans.

Tix for Feb 26th

Here’s a quick explainer ft. Misu (edited by Phenix who, alongside being a badass environmentalist, is also a content creator extraordinaire).

Community Care

Sour Soup Society is one of my fav creators, with radical imagination designs out of SoCal. They just dropped a poster design for LNY, and $10 from every purchase will support a community member taken by ICE.

Year of the Snake on Film

I’ve been finding a lot of joy playing with film and disposable cameras over the past year. Here are some of my favorite moments.

Inspiration

Reading:

• Religion, Reimagined by Liz Bucar. I found Liz’s writing through an IG video Helen shared with me a while back. In my own journey exploring spirituality, and somewhat reclaiming religion, I’ve been loving her take on current events through the lens of spirituality/religion. 9/10.

Watching:

• Come See Me In A Good Light. TEARS TEARS TEARS. Poetry in a film that will inspire you as much as it will wreck you. 15/10.

• Magellan. Lav Diaz’s newest film about Magellan’s journey to and death in the Philippines. It was gorgeous, insightful, and devastating—Matthew and I saw it in a packed theater, and I almost had to step out to properly sob and move the ancestral grief through. Watch mindfully and with trauma-informed tools. 10/10.

• Midnight Mass. I know, I know, I’m late to the party. Spooky, thought-provoking, plus a hot priest. What more could you ask for? 8/10.

Listening:

• Good Hang with Amy Poehler. I’ve been blowing through these episodes since Mak shared the one with Hayley Williams. I linked her conversation with Ryan Coogler because I absolutely love him and his passion for filmmaking. Plus Amy Poehler is a master interviewer. 10/10.

Most of my life is consumed by grad school content, so this section is a little more sparse than usual. More in the next edition!

With love,
bp

Hi dear friends,

How are you? Or as my teacher, Janet Roos, will ask: how you BE?

If you are new here, or as a reminder, I value this newsletter as a channel for actual connection. So I really want to know… how you BE? Hit reply or:

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As year of the water snake whips it’s tail, and year of the fire horse gallops around the corner, I feel whispers of creativity again. It has been a long, sometimes painful, recently restful few months (years?) of quiet, listening, yearning for the spark that used to flow at my fingertips with ease. But I feel the warmth returning to my muscles. I am ready to run. Even as I relish winter’s invitation to hibernate, I sense a rumble rising from the ground below.

May we be propelled—not into a frantic race, but rather, into sacred momentum.

Introducing good relations

I initially called this newsletter Let’s Disco out of my fervent love of disco balls and a nod to my father who spent most of the 80’s finding joy on the dance floor. I will always love disco and everything it represents, but it doesn’t resonate as a title for this format anymore. Thus, I offer ✨ good relations ✨

As someone who had “marketing tactics” somewhat traumatically drilled into my head throughout college and a career in New York City, it’s tempting to launch into a “rebrand” complete with a logo and color palette. But I have always wanted this space to feel less like a “sell” and more like a moment-to-moment expression of creativity and connection. So let’s keep it simple:

good relations is an ode to every person and relationship that contributes to this newsletter. Every reflection I share comes from a meaningful conversation I have had with one of you. The community care resources are just me passing them on. The inspiration round-up is comprised of recommendations or offerings from beloveds. good relations is what it is because of you. So thank you for being here, and I truly hope to hear from you. What is resonating? What is alive for you? Is there something you think I should shift or share?

Community Care

Important insight from my spiritual friend and retreat bunkmate, Jen Racho, from the ground in Minneapolis. Plus opportunities to support our people in MI.

Family and friends outside of the Twin Cities, please read this. If you have any questions, please message me. I am happy to have honest and respectful conversations.

If you know me well, you know that I am not prone to exaggeration. I want you to know what it is like here from someone who lives a mile away from where Renee Nicole Good was murdered.

ICE is terrorizing neighborhoods in the cities and the suburbs. For the first time in my life, I am carrying around my passport in the country where I was born.

ICE is going door to door in neighborhoods with large immigrant populations asking residents where their immigrant neighbors live.

They are harassing and detaining brown and black people without cause and without a warrant.

They are detaining U.S. Citizens and greencard holders.

They showed up at High School near me while kids were leaving school. They detained a school employee and sprayed chemical agents on school grounds. They are patrolling schools, hoping to catch parents dropping off their kids. But many kids are now being dropped off by neighbors who are US Citizens.

There is more, but I also want you to know how much GOOD is happening here:

Thousands of people have been trained to be legal observers.

There are hundreds of coordinated chats, and groups block by block.

People are buying groceries, paying rent, and providing transportation for families who cannot go to work because it is unsafe.

Parents and community members are standing guard outside schools.

Protests are happening every day. I went to a singing vigil and march today in a neighborhood frequented by ICE daily. We sang songs of love, peace, and resistance. Cars honked in appreciation, and neighbors waved and took videos from their windows.

If you want to help, I will put links in the comments of nonprofits to give to. If you want to provide mutual aid directly to people buying groceries or paying for rent, message me, and I will give you my Venmo and Paypal.

For links:

• Donate to Rent Support for Bancroft Families

• Headwaters Foundation Rapid Response Fund

• WFMN Immigrant Rapid Response Fund

For mutual aid: You can send direct to my Venmo (britt_pham) and I will distribute to Jen.

JOY JOY JOY

Top row from left to right:

• Floating in Flaming Gorge for the first time in 15 years with Mak

• SouthEast Asian sisterhood

• One of my favorite activities of all time is laying at the front of a boat with a dog, snacking on potato chips and sparkling water, and listening to country music with my childhood BFF and her family

Middle row from left to right:

• Hugging cedars at the foot of Mount Fuji

• Celebrating my beloved cousin’s bachelorette

• Sunrise at Sensō-Ji Temple with Matthew

Bottom row from left to right:

• Bruno’s annual Christmas photo

• Morning at Meiji Jingu with Matthew

• Misu-cat AKA Chicken in otter-mode IYKYK

Inspiration

Reading:

• Insight Arising. A gorgeous newsletter on love, spirituality, and life by dear friend Danny Duong. The pieces are articulate, precise, and always create an opening for me in some way. 10/10.

• The Will of the Many by James Islington. A rec from Mary, who I grew up reading HP, Twilight, etc. side-by-side with. She always has the best fantasy recs and this one didn’t miss. An elite academy, training montages, political mystery. 15/10.

• Red Paint: The Ancestral Autobiography of a Coast Salish Punk by Sasha taqwéseblu LaPointe. A unique weaving of personal and ancestral storytelling. Some heavy topics and the writing style didn’t always compel me, but it’s a worthwhile read if you’re looking for a memoir. 7/10.

Watching:

• Business Proposal. Thanks to my fellow Cancerian, Lisa, I am in my K-Drama era. This is like the perfect romance novel brought to life. Great pacing, no drawn out drama for drama’s sake, cute as heck. 9/10.

• Slow Horses Season 5. Watching this show is like sinking into your favorite book. The writing, acting, filmmaking, everything is fantastic—even if the seasons are way too short. 12/10.

Listening:

• Notes on Being a Man by Scott Galloway. Technically a read, but I like listening to Scott Galloway, whose work I’ve loved since hearing him on “The Problem With Men” with Trevor Noah. I don’t agree with all his takes, but I think he says what needs to be said, about a topic that needs to be talked about, in a way that will land with the people who need to hear it. 8/10.

• Service & Creativity for the Prosperous Coach with Levina Li and Melissa Ford. Even if you are not a coach, this conversation is a grounded and worthwhile listen for anyone in the business of being of service. Levina is a beloved friend and my former coach, and anything she does is 10/10.

With love,
bp

It’s taken me so long to share because it was also my last event as a co-founder and managing partner of One of Many Studio.

My parents are the epitome of “the American dream.” My father landed in the states on his 18th birthday, found a job, and made his way to the top of the company; he engineered the sale of said company to a billion dollar corporation and retired early. My mother left home at age 17, knows how to work every job and system under the sun, and currently juggles several hustles — not to mention her extensive volunteer work with Wat Lao Salt Lake supporting the vitality of our Lao community.

My parents are my heroes. All I’ve ever wanted was to follow in their footsteps.

The months preceding my decision to leave OoM were a dark hole of ego, insecurity, and reckoning with this dream. If I wanted it more, if I’d made better decisions in my career, if I was better connected, I’d look back fondly at the “tough early years.” If I gave up now, I’d be giving up on the “movement.” I, I, I . . . I was just being selfish.

Being an entrepreneur, co-founder, your own boss, etc. can be glamorous. It can also bring up every one of your shadows, whether you’re ready to face them or not. Inside my dark hole, I realized I wasn’t the person who created the dream I was chasing anymore. I could keep gritting my teeth and muscling through, the same way I’ve achieved many things in life. Or I could get to know myself anew, give myself space to BE who I’ve become. I chose the latter.

One year later, I am still processing what this means, both for work and for the tapestry of my entire life.

For four years, I met almost everyday with one of my best friends, a soul sister. Some of our closest collaborators became my dearest friends, and lines between professional and personal easily blurred. What happens to those relationships now? Will they stand the test of time when I am no longer part of the projects that brought us together?

A few months ago, The Big Quiet announced its journey was complete after many years of growth, national recognition, and a community that would’ve rode with them anywhere. I respect the f*ck out of that integrity — the courage to walk away in a world that demands endless scale. But it doesn’t make it any less sad to say goodbye.

One year later

So much has changed, but the question we asked at Gathering Future Ancestors feels more important than ever.

What waters do we come from?

More than an origin story, it asks us to re-construct how we relate to the natural world, our identities, and belonging. It asks us to see ourselves as interconnected, just as the waters are. It asks us to transform on a foundational level.

What waters do you come from? I’d love to hear what this brings up for you via email response or comment.

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One year later, I have…

• Entered the final year of my 20s

• Decided to become a therapist

• Applied for grad school

• Gotten into grad school

• Been unsurprised by the results of the 2024 election, and more determined than ever to continue the work of OoM, if not in business then in practice

• Experienced collective pain deeper than I ever thought possible

• Simultaneously held more joy and love than I ever thought possible: through family, friendships, partnership, live music, dance, collective effervescence, celebrating a ceasefire, deep belly laughs on the couch — all in defiance, in the face of not knowing what comes next

Also in the past year, one of my crystal singing bowls broke 💔 For anyone who doesn’t know, these instruments are deeply personal; they feel like friends to me, and breaking one feels like losing a loved one.

I’ve facilitated with my bowls across the world, from monthly classes in San Diego to Gathering Future Ancestors in NYC to the Wadi Rum Desert. They’ve borne witness to remarkable moments. The one that broke was fused with minerals from the Great Salt Lake, the waters by which I was born, the waters I come from. It was created to support the grieving process.

It broke almost a year to the date of my last event with OoM, as the year of the snake was birthed, and as I was getting ready to send this newsletter. If that’s not a drop in the water, I don’t know what is. The ripple effects are still revealing themselves.

There was so much to share here, and it all felt connected and important to weave together. So if you made it this far, thanks for being here.

I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know how to wrap this up with a pithy takeaway. I don’t know what the lesson is quite yet. We’re going through it, but “it” is still unclear.

No matter what though, I hope to see you on the other side.

Currently Inspiring Me

Reading:

• Babel by R.F. Kuang. Everyone needs to read this book ASAP. Language as magic, need I say more? Kuang is quickly becoming one of my new fav writers.

• Jade City by Fonda Lee (and the entire Green Bone Saga). MY NEW FAVORITE SERIES. NEVER HAVE I WEPT SO HARD. PERIOD.

• There Are Rivers In the Sky by Elif Shafak. A gorgeous and heartbreaking tale following a drop of water through time.

• What It Takes To Heal by Prentis Hemphill. A balm for the soul and inspiring guidance in these times.

• Bride by Ali Hazelwood. A surprisingly fun smutty one-off. Hit me up if you need more romance escapism recs, I basically go through one a week at this point 🙄

Watching:

• Conclave. Who knew watching the Catholic church select a new pope could be so gripping.

• The Pitt. This show has me in a chokehold every week. What an incredible way to tell modern healthcare professionals’ stories.

Listening To:

• Ruha Benjamin’s conversation on the Trevor Noah podcast. I read Benjamin’s book, Imagination: A Manifesto, last year and deeply appreciate her wisdom in these times.

• LIFELINE by MARO + NASAYA. Stumbled upon this album when their tour came through a local venue, it’s a solid listen from front to end.

• My “cunt-ry” playlist. I’ve been going through a country music phase 🤷🏻 Shoutout to my friend Carly for helping build this silly playlist.

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

Now I’m not saying it’s not nice to be complimented 💅🏽 but when it’s the first and only thing said about you, it starts to get a little weird. And in how they would say it — with such wistfulness, as if it was the best (the only) thing worth being — I learned at an early age that beauty meant acceptance and power.

I also learned that being beautiful meant being as close to “white” as possible. Being warned to stay out of the sun lest I get to dark. Wanting blue eye-contacts sooo bad. Removing all my body hair every 30 days ON THE DOT for fear of someone noticing my mustache and knuckle hairs.

Ask many southeast Asians, especially those of us socialized as women, and you’ll hear iterations of the same experience.

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As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to say “fuck it” to a lot of that. I bake in sun like a lizard. I stopped most hair removal after an esthetician burned me during a Brazilian (…yep). Being almost legally blind, I’m just grateful any contacts help me see at all.

I acknowledge the privilege of inhabiting an able, straight-sized body — and I’ve started valuing how I FEEL in my body over anything else.

We even recorded an episode about it on Sunday Sxhool!

A few months ago, my friend Linh Nguyen asked me to facilitate her art exhibition — Đẹp: Reimagining Beauty Standards In the Vietnamese Diaspora — and it cracked open a new layer of this conversation for me.

In community, we explored:

• The radical nature of naming and questioning these standards: light skin, a high-bridged nose, double eyelids, long hair, a petite frame… to name a few.

• How these standards are one of the many wounds of colonialism, white supremacy, and capitalism in our communities.

• The very real ways beauty standards impact our wellbeing and sense of self.

• How healing looks like acceptance, and how that’s so much easier said than done.

We imagined what Đẹp could mean in our futures.

In many ways, writing about beauty and art feels edgy. It feels disconnected to write about anything other than the brutal injustices occurring everyday around the world, and what it will take to achieve collective liberation. But in other ways, I know that when we gather in community, when we name systems of harm and get real about the work of healing, we tap into creation itself. What else is liberation if not that?

Đẹp was anything but disconnected. It was an entry point to dialogue, turning an exhibition into something much bigger than a one-night show. It was witnessing and learning from leaders opening doors and pulling others through. It was seeing faces that look like mine light up with the joy of being together and connecting over shared experiences. It was stepping into my own artistry, seeing facilitation as the brush that paints the energy of a space — what an absolute pleasure to create in kinship, in this way.

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Speaking of Viet Voices

I am facilitating — and curating! — another Viet Voices event on October 14th. San Diego, I hope to see you there.

Free RSVP

LIMINAL SPACE: What Was, What Could Be is the bridge between our current chapter and the next, exploring how we hold both the realities of the past with possibilities of the future. It is the breath before the next movement in a dance. It is emergence.

Community Care

Typhoon Yagi has devastated much of Southeast Asia, and my family’s ancestral home in Laos is underwater. My stateside family is organizing a transfer of funds to support recovery, and our recent efforts enabled rice to be distributed to three villages!

There are so many people affected by crises around the world who are in need of care. I invite you to consider what your community practice can look like at this time: What are mutual aid collectives or funds that you connect with? What % of your wealth are you able to redistribute?

If you feel called to donate to my family’s efforts, we would be so grateful. Email me back and I’ll send you a Zelle link 💸

Currently Inspiring Me

I’ve been loving the work of Yumi Sakugawa on creativity and collective liberation.

Watching:

• Civil War. An unflinchingly real portrayal of violence and war. I’m not sure how anyone walks away thinking anything other than, “There has to be another way.”

• Twisters. Theo and I saw this in theaters, and it was a surprisingly fun summer flick. 10/10 would recommend to turn your brain off and watch some tornadoes.

• The Bachelorette. I was sucked in by the hype around the first Vietnamese Bachelorette… Truly an unserious and unhinged piece of content that was so fun to look forward to every week.

Reading:

• The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Nhat Hanh. Gifted by my friend AX Mina and last month’s book club read. It’ a balm for the soul, and a beautiful way to connect with an ancestor and practices from my heritage.

• Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong. I started this when it came out in 2020 and four years later it’s completely shifted my relationship to my own identity. An instant classic and must-read IMO.

• What It Takes To Heal by Prentis Hemphill. An inspiring and real take on the intersection of healing and justice, and how the two are inextricable. I’m only a few chapters in and loving it so far.

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

Let’s get into it

Earlier this month, I celebrated my 29th birthday.

The lead up to 29 included three cities and six flights; a month in New York with chosen family, biking over bridges singing Chappell Roan at the top of my lungs, and showing Theo some of my favorite spots; and a week in Salt Lake participating in the Luk Nimit burial at our temple, witnessing my mom as a community leader, and quality time with Bruno. It culminated with a week in Lisbon fulfilling a decade-long vision that you can read more about on my Instagram.

The day of my birthday itself, though? That was spent alone, back in San Diego, watching Ted Lasso, and eating a huge bowl of cherries.

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These days, I find a lot of pleasure in my solo space. Sometimes, I wonder… too much? And following a month in NYC where my social life felt so alive, I also wonder: do I only like being alone so much because I haven’t quite “found my people” here?

While I deeply value the connections I’ve made over the past 2.5 years in San Diego, I haven’t quite found that flow.

• Spontaneously calling a friend who lives a few blocks away to grab a glass of wine

• Sitting in silence, scrolling our phones while a show plays in the background

• A dinner that turns into an unplanned night

• An abundance of communities — women’s group, creative co-works, neighborhood blocks — where it’s easy to feel like part of something

• Knowing that when someone says, “We need to hang out!” they’ll actually make plans and follow through on them

Am I grasping at memories from my early 20’s? Is it just hard to make friends without the social net of school and office-work? Is there something wrong with me?

As much as it’d be nice to have that “go-to friend group,” you can’t force the flow. It’s a combination of chemistry, physical proximity, capacity to even cultivate a relationship, living life together, and… time.

Maybe I haven’t landed on the right combination yet. Maybe this city isn’t for me. Maybe growing older is less about finding that friend group, but about knowing the people you’ve already found will always hold your heart — it just might not be in one city. And rather than feeling like I need to break my heart apart, maybe it can be big enough to exist in many people and in many places around the world.

As I navigate grad school applications and a career transition, maybe life is simply yet to reveal what’s next. For now though, I’m at peace — which feels pretty radical to say after spending my late 20’s in coaching programs and therapy sessions, ferociously searching for it. I’m at peace with saying goodbye to my 20’s and this moment of limbo. I’m at peace spending some time alone with a big bowl of cherries.

What’s on your mind re: friendships and community?

Leave a comment

Community Care

To support the many fundraising campaigns for families surviving in and evacuating Gaza & Sudan, Yejin Lee is organizing one campaign per month w/ a specific goal + rewards by/for the community when the goal is met. I love this creative and collaborative way to focus mutual aid efforts.

• To raise $4k by August 23rd, click HERE.

• To contribute a reward if the goal is met, click HERE.

Currently Inspiring Me

Topical Cotent:

• How People Are Making Friendship Work Right Now. Shared by my friend Rebecca Chen after a 2 hour catch up where we analyzed the anatomy of adult friendships. I especially love the distinction made between friendships and community, and the varying degrees of relationships we need.

• America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders. I binged this in two days on Netflix. It’s a wild ride through Texas, football, and Jesus — revealing the darker side of belonging, and what people will do to manufacture and feel it.

Listening:

• The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. It’s Chappell Roan summer baby 🤠

Reading:

• Babel by R.F. Kuang. An incredible exploration of colonialism, belonging, and the empire through language and magic. One of my favorite reads this year.

• The Green Bone Saga (series) by Fonda Lee. A gorgeous epic about family, legacy, globalization, and (of course) magic. I haven’t wept over a book like this since Dobby died.

• The War of Lost Hearts (series) by Carissa Broadbent. A complex heroine, an unwaveringly supportive MMC, action, and smut. What more do you need?

Learning:

• Black Octopus Society. Resmaa Menakem’s work has transformed my life and inspired my exploration of somatic healing work. His recently launched community platform is 🤌🏽

  ---

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

My fav discovery of the year so far: Spotify launching audiobooks for premium members! While I’m a big nerd about annotating hard copies, and I love reading smutty fantasy books on Kindle, some books are best listened to IMO. Anything by Brené Brown is one of them.

I’ve been listening to Atlas of the Heart, and it’s got me thinking about the power of language in navigating what it means to be human these days.

In Chapter #6: Places We Go When We’re Hurting, Brené shares about an experience of “pure anguish.” She writes, “Today, a decade later, I no longer fall to the ground when I think about that call, but it still evokes anguish and I am not the same.”

That last part resonated deeply with me. It helped me articulate moments over the past few years that have left me stunned with almost unbearable “shock, incredulity, grief, and powerlessness.”

March 17th, 2020. COVID-19 shuts down New York City.

May 25th, 2020. The murder of George Floyd.

March 16th, 2021. The Atlanta spa shootings.

October 7th, 2023. The onset of unspeakable violence in Palestine.

Describing these events and their aftermath is hard. "Anguish" is the only word that feels fitting. While the systemic issues that these events highlighted are not novel, I must acknowledge a distinct sense of "life before and life after” these dates. I haven't been the same, and collectively, I don’t think we have either.

In the same chapter, Brené also writes about grief — another emotion that’s been alive for me and in my communities. This quote by Elizabeth Gilbert also resonated deeply:

Grief does not obey your plans, or your wishes. Grief will do whatever it wants to you, whenever it wants to. In that regard, Grief has a lot in common with Love.

If “anguish” helped me articulate this sense of being altered in my bones, then “grief’ helped me articulate what I want to root in when overcome with anguish — love.

When being online feels like an echo chamber of pain, when I feel overwhelmed by collective despair, when every piece of writing I read seems to start with the line “In these dark times…” I want to remember that the amount I am able to grieve for all that we have lost is the amount I am able to love something new into existence.

Currently Exciting Me

Creating memories & community offline.

Highlights from the past few months, left to right moving down the rows:

• Facilitating alongside incredible artists at Queering the Table, an event celebrating queer AAPI artists at the Mingei International Museum

• Being present for family & Bruno time

• Guiding more sound meditations and growing that side of my professional practice

• Hiking 10 miles in Bryce Canyon (s/o Theo for being my outdoor adventure pal even when I’m grumpy as hell)

• Finally resonating with art and culture in San Diego, this photo featuring work by Cat Gunn at Project Blank’s recent show

• Stopping to smell the desert flowers, so to speak

• Unashamedly loving the holidays

• Collaborating with Asian Solidarity Collective on sound healing session and getting to be of service to community through sound

• Watching my nephews grow up

Gathering Future Ancestors.

Tickets

Join me in NYC on Feb 17th for this gorgeous event with One of Many Studio, Featuring work from and inspired by The OoM Residency Experiences over the past two years:

• Live podcast recording by AX Mina of the Five and Nine Podcast

• Calligraphy performance & installation by Adelle Lin

• Origami crane-making and participatory altar installation with Sarah Aoanan

• Visual art by Sun Katayama

• Music by AERI

• The PREMIER of The OoM Residency 2023 Film

• More to be announced soon…

Closing Five and Nine S4.

Reflecting on this past year through the lens of Five and Nine, recorded live in Wadi Rum at The OoM Residency Experience 2023, has been such a gift. Our special finale will be coming out soon — in the meantime, enjoy our most recent episode featuring AX Mina and Adelle Lin who will also be sharing offerings at Gathering Future Ancestors on Feb 17th!

Applications for the OoM Residency Experience 2024 are open.

We call this the "Residency Experience" because our time together will have ripple effects yet to be co-created, and opportunities to steward our shared collective wisdom in the months following our gathering. That said, part of the experience is an 11 day residency that will take place on May 10th - May 21st, 2024. We will convene in the city of Amman, incubate in the Wadi Rum Desert, and integrate at the Dead Sea.

Acceptances will be confirmed by March 1st, 2024 at which time you will receive information on creative development process, travel logistics, fees, etc.

Apply

Currently Inspiring Me

Listening:

• Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown. See all of the above!

• Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain. Only three chapters in, this book is transforming my relationship to collaboration and leadership.

Reading:

• Kindred by Octavia E. Butler. Next up in my “books I want to read and need accountability to actually read” book club. Want to join?

• Crescent City Series by Sarah J. Maas. This completes my journey through the current Maasverse! The third book comes out on the 30th, after which you’ll find me under a pile of blankets and my Kindle.

Learning:

• A whole host of hobbies I’m hoping to pick up this year, including but not limited to:

  • Sewing. Took an intro class, learned to sew a straight line, and I think my fantasy of being on Project Runway ends there 👍🏽

  • Swimming. The waters have been calling, and I’m looking forward to feeling empowered enough to swim in the ocean, laps in the pool, etc.

  • Writing. I’ve always wanted to write a book about my parents, genre TBD. Open to writing class recommendations!

• Communal Consultations In Somatic Abolitionism for All Bodies of Culture. I took the foundations program last year and it changed my damn life.

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

“Do you ever share this with anyone?”

An activating question Tea Leigh asked when I got sit with them this month. My pride would like to believe I’ve done the work™ to be 100% vulnerable, ask for help whenever I need it, etc. But I’m realizing how much time I spend with a tight fist around my insides for fear of it all falling apart and never coming back together again.

So I’m taking a summer break from OoM and my creative practice, to decompress, to step away from being nose-to-nose with the canvas and appreciate the big picture. While it’s a short one, I’m STOKED for a week of letting my brain empty a bit and creating space for inspiration.

The word “inspiration” comes from the Latin “inspirare,” meaning “to breathe into.” As a coach once told me, “to breathe LIFE into.”

Some things that have been breathing life into me recently:

• Devouring YA fantasy novels (more on that below).

• Spontaneously going to an outdoor amphitheater concert at SDSU last night.

• Soberly realizing why there was so much security on campus, and fully appreciating what a gift it is to gather safely around music.

• Looking around at the Eras tour and seeing the unbridled joy on every single face in rows and rows and rows.

• At every music show I’m ever at, hearing hundreds to thousands of people singing the same lyrics together. I’m convinced there’s nothing better.

What’s inspiring you these days?

Leave a comment

Before signing off, and on the topic of LIFE, I’ll leave you with a special bonus episode of Five and Nine, co-presented by One of Many Studio, ft. a meditation on aliveness led by me.

This semi-occasional newsletter is for connecting off IG, sharing what I’m excited about, and all things disco. I don’t take being in your inbox for granted 🫂 If you’d rather not dance, I respect you smashing that unsubscribe button.

Currently Exciting Me

Embodied Futures Lab, Climate Week Edition

Sept 17th. Cultural transformation - for the earth and our futures - starts with the body. Join One of Many Studio & Five and Nine Futures in a restorative and imaginative space for culture workers, organizers, and those craving inspiration in our collective work towards climate justice. REGISTER HERE.

Being off IG and sharing with you here (from left to right)

Row 1: playing with new instruments gifted by dear AX Mina, my actual face ahead of night 6 of the Eras tour at SoFi Stadium, a screenshot of the one video I took at the show because I was too busy screaming crying singing my head off.

Row 2: SoCal neighborhood magic, a special tarot card pulled during a reading I got to sit with AX Mina, me and bubs on date night.

Row 3: memes that made me smile recently.

Currently Inspiring Me

Listening:

• The Eras Tour Setlist. I will write an entire newsletter about that damn show.

• Brown Noise. As opposed to white or pink noise, brown noise gives more power to lower frequencies. It’s one of my favorite soundtracks when I need a little extra help sleeping. If you’re interested in more sound science, hit reply and let’s chat.

Reading:

• A Court of Thorns and Roses Series by Sarah J. Maas. I’M AN ACOTAR GIRLIE, OKAY. I haven’t been this obsessed with a book since Twilight, and speaking of inspiration, it’s truly breathing life into me.

• Grieving and Healing Through Creative Communion by Panthea Lee. A gorgeous piece that’s inspiring me in building a participatory art practice.

Learning:

• Trauma-Informed Yin Yoga Teacher Training. I’m STOKED to dive deeper into somatic learning through yin yoga, a practice that’s been holding me tenderly over the past few months.

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

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Greetings from my pillow fort where I’m savoring being home for a full week, a first this summer and a rare opportunity these days. The sunset is shining through the lemon tree in my neighbor’s yard. The evening air is beginning to chill as it floats through the open windows. DEEP BREATH.

Continued below...

ICYMI: This semi-occasional newsletter is for connecting off IG, sharing what I’m excited about, and all things disco. I don’t take being in your inbox for granted 🫂 If you’d rather not dance, I respect you smashing that unsubscribe button.

Currently Exciting Me

Embodied Futures Lab.

Aug 15th. A special online experience of yin yoga, sound meditation, guided writing, and intentional connection by One of Many Studio & Five and Nine Futures. In a time of significant change and re-emergence (read: anxiety, burnout, isolation) this is a space to slow down and reinvigorate the creativity & inspiration that fuels organizing, justice, and culture work. REGISTER HERE.

The second annual One of Many Residency in Wadi Rum.

Eighteen creators gathered to bear witness to the global water crisis and our interconnected futures. MORE HERE.

Among the incredible content emerging from the Residency, we’re thrilled to co-present the latest season of Five and Nine, recorded live in Wadi Rum and hosted by resident Ana Xiao Mina! It’s a beautiful sonic experience of the Residency and Wadi Rum itself.

The OoM Newsletter is LIVE.

A space where Nour and I will share the ripples unfolding from the Residency, as well as inspiration, learning, music, readings, and everything in between. Subscribe below.

The OoM Newsletter

By One of Many Studio

(Saturn Return cont.)

I’m also writing to you from the depths of my first Saturn Return. If you’re not familiar: “Saturn return is when the planet Saturn finds its way back to the same place it was when you were born… It represents reality checks, restriction, mortality, and loss… it brings much-needed structure and rewards patience and hard work.” (Chani Nicholas)

Ain’t that true.

Between near constant travel, being a founder, emotionally divesting from a corporate job, maximizing time with my parents in this golden era of our relationship, Bruno’s first medical scare, moving in with a partner, building community in a new city… life is ALIVE and upending my relationship with time, capacity, boundaries, and certainty.

And tools that used to work don’t seem to fit who I’ve become or the world we’re creating. Instead of executing linear plans, I’m embraced by webs of possibility. Instead of seeking out the hardest thing possible just because I can, I’m craving sunsets and lemon trees. It’s a new way of being, and it comes with a buttload of unknown — questions with answers that seem to slip away the harder I grasp.

Saturn will transit from Aquarius to Pisces on March 29th, 2025. In the meantime, I’ll be here in my pillow fort, contemplating these questions and radiating all my love your way.

Currently Inspiring Me

Listening To:

• Dance Yourself Free. On the lineage of house music, and its origins in queer Black resistance and disco.

• Jeep, Pray, Lovers Cave. On global tourism, how image shape our understanding of the world, and what it means to travel. Farah Foudeh’s insight is invaluable, and AX Mina’s leadership in storytelling is masterful.

• The OoM Residency 2023 Collaborative Playlist. Co-created with the residents of 2023.

• Wadi Rump Shaker. Our desert dance party playlist. Created by beloved Azad and co-created with the residents of 2023.

• Lover. Fun fact: I’m a massive Swiftie. And I’m revisiting my “Cruel Summer” era as I prepare to attend the closing night of Eras. See what I did there? IYKYK.

Reading:

• Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. One of those books I had on my shelf for years and “kept meaning to read.” So I started a book club to hold myself accountable and damn was it worth it. Invitation to pick up your copy this evening, open to a random page, and read one chapter.

• All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks. Another “kept meaning to read” book club read. I don’t fully have the words for this experience. Ask me in a couple years.

• How We Learned to Be Lonely by Arthur C. Brooks. An Atlantic article that strikingly spoke to my despair around post-pandemic social life.

Learning:

• Foundations in Somatic Abolitionism. I just registered for the September sessions. Join me.

• The Embodiment Institute: Lineage of Embodiment Series. An incredible free resource on the history of somatics and embodiment to credit Black and Indigenous ancestral and historical practices and wisdoms.

• Bowl Club. By my brother Jackie Cantwell. I have the pleasure of returning to the second cohort as a guide, after attending the first cohort and having my mind blown by the wisdom of sound and the practitioners in my community.

Glitter on. Deep breath. Rest well until next time.

bp

P.S. Bruno is well and thriving, and happily napping everyday :)

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