insight arising

Insight Arising has MOVED!

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Mon, 08 Nov 2021 20:31:00 +0000

Please check out my new website:

www.insightarising.com

MUCH LOVE, THANK YOU!

Waiting

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sat, 23 Oct 2021 21:54:00 +0000

by Toko-pa Turner

There is a good kind of waiting
which trusts the agents of fermentation.
There is a waiting
which knows that in pulling away
one can more wholly return.
There is the waiting
which prepares oneself,
which annoints and adorns
and makes oneself plump
with readiness for love’s return.
There is a good kind of waiting
which doesn’t put oneself on hold
but rather adds layers to the grandness
of one’s being worthy.
This sweet waiting
for one’s fruits to ripen
doesn’t stumble over itself
to be the first to give
but waits for the giving

to issue at its own graceful pace.

Belly of the Beast: The Wild Card - My 80 Year Old Dad

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 16 Sep 2021 04:05:00 +0000

I have lived with my parents for nine months now. While I didn't know what to expect from the experience, I never thought the wild card would be my dad. My quiet, reserved, calm, and harmless dad. Since the beginning of my journey home to the belly of the beast, I have been struggling quite a bit with him. These frustrations have been surprising and confusing and incredibly unfamiliar given the minimal conflict we've had over the years. Unexpectedly, I've gotten so upset by him...

He spits in the sink without washing the things away.

He's become radically conservative in the past few years.

He's stubborn as heck and will only do things his way.

He's a product of cultural patriarchy and refuses to do anything outside his gender role.

He's emotionally unavailable and has dismissed my sadness.

He can be cold, distant, and inconsiderate.

I've been triggered countless times by him. I've snapped. I've been repeatedly impatient with him. I've had more moments lacking compassion than I like to admit.

I haven't enjoyed feeling these ways about my dad. But I've needed to be with these feelings to understand them. In July, I went to Hawaii with my family for ten long days. It wasn't until I spent time in this inescapable family container did I see with much more clarity the root of this tension with my dad. My greatest childhood fear, even though it can't ever come true now, has kept me in deep denial about his aging reality. He is 80 years old. He shuffles around. It takes him a few minutes to get out of a car. He can get lost in crowds. His memory has declined significantly. He needs reminders to get clean. He doesn't say much anymore. It seems like I've struggled more with his aging process than he has.

The truth is, my dad has lived a very long life, and yet, I am still scared of him dying.

The truth is, no matter how old he is, or how old I am, I will never be fully prepared for him to die.

Accepting these difficult truths and the reality of his mortality has freed me from the tight tension I've held. Patience and compassion are seeping in with more ease. There's more playfulness and lightheartedness and more capacity to be with and understand Ba just as he is today.

The most important truth is, my dad is a human being, and he was my first ever spiritual friend. He has his sweet and loving moments. He's funny and a little raunchy. He enjoys food like no one else I've witnessed. He has a super kind smile. He cares a lot about my health. He's found some sort of peace inside. He's honest and lives with integrity. He has a clarity about life that I understand. He may not have been the warm, nurturing father I wanted, but he was the spiritual friend I never knew I needed. From a young age, Ba has been feeding me with such essential wisdom for how to navigate human suffering. I know these moments will be what stays with me when he does leave the earth. For now, I'll continue to do my best accepting and loving him as he is, sink spits and all. ☺

5 Lessons of the Rope: My Yearlong Skipping Journey - A Pandemic Silver Lining!

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Wed, 25 Aug 2021 00:53:00 +0000

When COVID-19 hit in March 2019, my weekly basketball league and pick-up nights halted immediately. I was bummeddddddddd. Running felt insufficient so I somehow found my way back to a jump rope. When I started skipping rope for the first time since grade school, I realized, this shit is not as easy as it used to be! So as a good ESFJ, I dove into everything available to learn how to jump rope correctly - YouTube videos, Instagram jump rope stars, tutorials, and even virtual classes with premier coaches. Forget baking bread, doing puzzles, or knitting sweaters, my pandemic time has been all about this rope. I fell in love with it, the way I did basketball as a little kid. It's been SO MUCH fun. It's been hard and challenging. It's been a thing to master. Not to mention, it's been awesome for my mental health and heart wellness.

5 life lessons the rope has taught me:

I can still learn something new, regardless of age. I can put my mind to something, drill, practice, be consistent, and master a tough skill.
Paying attention to the nuance signals of my body is a beautiful way to get to know her. I had two bouts of very unsettling knee issues that taught me how to rehabilitate and treat my legs and body with more care.
Building muscle strength in our core, glutes, and legs is so so important for our overall health! I thought I had strong legs until I started skipping...
When shit whips me in the ass (or the face, or the calves, or anywhere really), I feel into the sting of the whip, laugh at myself, and let go!
The things in life that flow with ease like a river... whether it be a relationship, a job, a passion project, or a plastic rope...these are the life energy things to choose over and over again.

Part 2! Celebrating 35: Things I ALREADY Love About Myself

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Fri, 20 Aug 2021 13:51:00 +0000

My favorite part about writing and sharing with the world is experiencing what arises with others in response. When I posted the original piece about the 35 things I'm learning to love about myself, a kind friend wrote me a sweet note encouraging me to memorialize my light (in addition to the darker things I struggle with). He talked about how embracing our light can be the scariest thing to do. So, with a lot of gratitude, I decided to take up his loving challenge. Below you'll find my list of things I already love about who I am. I recommend you to try out this beautiful self-loving exercise. Comparatively, it was a lot more fun to write than the other one! Closing out Leo season with a full heart.

I adore my heart. She is tender. She is forgiving. She is vast. I live heart led and I’m so proud I choose to live this way.
I am a natural athlete. I’ve got a solid drive to the basket, a mean spiral to the football, and can send a softball flying into the field.
Along these lines, I have killer reflexes and it always surprises me. Like when the freezer is opened abruptly and something comes tumbling down, I catch it like that!
I really like my hands – they’re the perfect size with well-proportioned, slender fingers.
I show love and emotion through my gentle eyes.
I spend serious heart energy writing my cards, love notes, messages, and texts to people. I love using words to express nuanced thinking, care, and thoughtfulness.
I am a fucking great teammate. A collaborator at heart, I roll up my sleeves and am not above any kind of work.
I am also a fucking great leader. A servant leader who is quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) bold. I know how to listen and step aside to let others shine while protect and support as needed. I never want to be the smartest in the room.
I’m a fucking great friend too. I go the distance for my beloveds.
I’m an attentive writer. It brings me joy knowing my creative work touches the hearts and minds of others.
When I give, I forget. I don’t keep score.
I’m an aspiring Bodhisattva in training. The details of my path aren’t clear, but I am listening closely and responding to what life is asking of me with less doubt and fear.
I am a skillful discerner. I can see through the fog. I am learning how to own my wisdom and intuition and share it in ways that are compassionate yet honest.
Life is a masterclass to which I’m a committed student. I love learning from books, podcasts, wisdom talks, and more. My mind is often in contemplation and dot connecting mode.
I love resting and being. I like to just sit or lay in grass witnessing nature and people. I have deconstructed the concept of laziness. I have a sense for what’s enough now.
At the same time, I can get some serious shit done. However, listening to my body about when to act vs when to rest has been a game changer. I feel like my capacity for action is far greater as a result.
I am a creative being. I create from pain and joy alike. I draw and paint and take pictures. Honestly I’m not that good but I enjoy these things anyway.
I love my own smile and I appreciate my small teeth. I floss diligently.
I have soft baby like skin. Grateful for healthy skin genes.
I love my small details lens for life as much as I’ve struggled with it – it allows me to relate and connect with others more easefully.
On that note, I am a relational artist. I track people and people patterns – emotionally and energetically, the nonverbal things - with a lot of care and mindfulness and quietly build community everywhere I go.
I put a lot of love and effort into my relationships. I am proud of my own personal community of friends, mentors, teachers, and colleagues around me. It has depth, breadth, diversity, and longevity. Love is all around me.
I have no problem apologizing when I’ve made mistakes.
My dear friend tells me I have energy that is easy on the body. You may interpret that how you like ☺
Since discovering my birth chart with my dear fried Britt (check her out y’all), I LOVE my Sun Leo, Moon Gemini, and Rising Scorpio trifecta. I understand myself so much better now!
I love that I can enjoy a room full of humans as much as I do being alone.
I don’t complain about much. I roll with the punches. I make an easy travel or backpacking buddy.
I have simple taste. I like keeping things minimal and neat. You’ll see this in my clothing and living space.
I confront my fears and take life into my own hands while also staying open to what the universe and my karmic energy has in store for me.
These days, I am thriving in uncertainty which used to control me.
I love how connected I feel to Mother Earth and her healing elements.
While I used to hold embarrassment, I am now a vocal advocate of sleep (read Matthew Walker’s book). I like rising early with the sun. Good sleep and early mornings are my caffeine.
I am a strong self-observer. I can see when my egoic mind is leading vs when I'm grounded in my core. What’s different now is I am gentle with myself and what I see. My mindfulness/meditative practice has given me deeper attention and awareness. This is the foundation for authentic living.
I love to laugh, be silly, and have fun… although my idea of fun may not fit the box, aka, it can appear very boring.
I care much less about what others think about me. I have far less expectations of others. I am freer today than ever before.

Happy 2 Year Anniversary to My Therapist

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sun, 15 Aug 2021 13:23:00 +0000

Another anniversary in life I never imagined celebrating - two years of healing with my dear dear therapist, C.

Two years ago, at the beginning of my separation, I approached finding C like I did with most other decisions in my life. With a lot of intention, rigor, and a mental excel sheet. I had adamant ideas for what I was looking for, especially because I developed such respect and appreciation for our couples therapist who we had just sadly separated from. My new therapist needed to be a self-identifying she, she needed to be a woman of color, and she needed to be a fucking badass. I scoured Psychology Today and Therapist of Color Bay Area Directory, read their bios with my mafia boss eyes, made a list of 15+ people, and ended up emailing about 10 of them. Over the course of three weeks, I had about 7 phone calls to check for chemistry.

By the end of my rigorous process, something quiet called me to toss out my mental excel sheet, along with my old patterned way of making decisions. I chose C based on an unfamiliar feeling of intuition. Somehow I knew, C was meant to guide this next part of my healing journey. At first, I heard my controlling ego protest -- "No, she seems too different from our last therapist" and "She sounds a little mysterious and a little reserved" and "You need someone more intense to improve yourself!" But, I ignored my mind and followed my heart.

Looking back, I realize my body's wisdom really came through in that moment. While my mind was looking for certain things, my heart-body knew I needed something a bit different. C has been one of the greatest gifts to my life. What my mind didn't know at the time was, I was in deep deep need of safety, tenderness, and unconditional love and compassion. I had been deserted of these ways for so long I didn't know what those qualities felt like. I needed a gentle and spacious container that would allow me to just breathe, to cry without being dismissed, to express myself without judgment, and to exist without trying to solve for anything. With our couples therapist, we had a desperate aim, to address the problems between us, which created a lot of "doing" and "needing to improve" energy. At this new juncture of my life, what I simply needed was a tender space to hold my heart and breath. To this day, C continues to just let me be, as I am. She helps me integrate my experiences. I get to emerge in whatever form I am in with her. She listens deeply, guides gently, and drops the most precise gems of wisdom as inquiry or insight. She's a bit of a mystic fairy.

Last year, I told C that she is an essential member of my primary soul care team. My soul care team is comprised of a handful of humans who, together, play an integral role in facilitating, supporting, and nourishing my healing journey. While I am my own point guard, C's a utility player who shifts from shooting guard to center to forward, and depending on the needs of each session, she can even be the coach or the blessed water person. Truly utility!

I am forever grateful for the container we've co-created. I am appreciative that C continues to accept all parts of me, my light and dark sides, and my deeply complex and ever evolving humanity. This has been most healing of all.

Today, I celebrate C, all members of my soul care team, and all the human beings who serve in roles that hold precious and sacred space for others to be fully who they are, no matter what. You are endless gifts to this world. Thank you.

Below I share the beautifully perfect poem C gifted for our anniversary. She's come to know me very well.

Unconditional

By Jennifer Welwood

Willing to experience aloneness,

I discover connection everywhere;

Turning to face my fear,

I meet the warrior who lives within;

Opening to my loss,

I gain the embrace of the universe;

Surrendering into emptiness,

I find fullness without end.

Each condition I flee from pursues me,

Each condition I welcome transforms me

And becomes itself transformed

Into its radiant jewel-like essence.

I bow to the one who has made it so,

Who has crafted this Master Game;

To play it is purest delight;

To honor its form – true devotion.

Celebrating 35: Things I'm Learning to Love, Accept, and Adore About Myself

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sun, 01 Aug 2021 16:15:00 +0000

This art piece reflects my effort to cultivate deeper self love and tenderness <3

For my 35th birthday today, I am reflecting on things I've held shame, guilt, embarrassment or simple shyness and discomfort around. Some of them are imperfections, either past or present, that I am learning to love, accept, and adore about who I am - from the daily mundane to the deeply personal. Each one of these things is its own journey and I proudly celebrate them on the day of my rising into the 36th year of living on Mother Earth. I fully acknowledge I am a tender work-in-progress for this lifetime and beyond. Thank you as always for witnessing and celebrating with me.

I can be incredibly stubborn.
When things don't follow through according to plan, I can get irritated or anxiously controlling.
I really love to eat... and can throw down food. I was a chubby kid once so I can get embarrassed by this.
Somehow I always get food stains on my clothes. But the imperfection is how neurotic I can be with them. I can’t move on with my life until the stain's been addressed. Dramatic, I know.
While I'm not an angry person, I can throw some pretty ugly angry tantrums with my family.
I can be incredibly competitive. I really don't like to lose. I live into my Leo here.
I've slept with the same hugging pillow for 30+ years. It’s probably filled with lots of bacteria…
I’ve been an early sleeper and riser my whole life, a.k.a. an old lady my whole life. With the anti-sleep/rest culture, I felt super ashamed about this in my 20s (especially on Vegas trips!).
My rising Scorpio runs deep into my bones. I love going deep. I’ve feared scaring others off but I realize I can’t let peoples' fears of themselves get in the way of how I want to be in the world.
As deep as I am, I’m also a really silly, goofy, lighthearted person which means I can be a little awkward.
I experience daily life wearing a small details lens. I love in the details. I used to regret how much of life I saw, but now I know it’s a superpower. A beloved once told me I'd make a great mafia boss. So don’t fuck with me :)
I keep certain unimportant things like the same hair ties and pen for long periods of time. I take weird pride in not losing these small items. It’s definitely a neurotic control issue.
I have constellations of freckles and sunspots on my face including a sizeable birth mark on my right cheek. I repeatedly refuse my mom's suggestion to get them removed.
I grew up with strong thick legs and my inner thighs have never not touched. Fuck you standards of white beauty!
My feet are really wide and my toes aren’t "feminine" looking. My childhood friends called them hot pockets.
My arms and shoulders have a broader shape than what petite Asian women are known to look like (this has made wearing tank tops a self-conscious challenge).
I have longer sideburns that make me look like the flying karate chicks in Chinese dramas.
I feel most alive outdoors, pooping in holes I dig, hiking up steep mountain sides, and getting dirty. My mom tells me all the things I like to do are boy things (what does that even mean?)
I am deeply spiritual and do all the woo woo things like talk to trees and birds, collect crystals, and pull oracle cards. I believe and trust in the unseen.
I can be very physically affectionate. My family did not display these ways so I suppressed this aspect of myself. I love hugs and cuddles and holding hands and showing/receiving love through ALL the love languages, especially physical touch.
I like to go all in with the things and people I care about. I used to feel scared that loving big on others would scare them away since I grew up being told to “contain” my emotions.
I love public speaking. Being an Asian woman and feeling the need to be modest, I’ve shied away from being open about how much I actually enjoy it. I'm proud of all the practice I've had with it.
I like buying shit at full price, out of convenience. Growing up in a refugee family, this practice is blasphemy, and I have held survivor’s guilt around it.
Sometimes I throw away food I can’t finish. Again, another incredulous act in my family. I refuse to stuff myself full as an act of resistance for my inner child who was forced to swallow everything at the table before she could leave it.
I already mentioned how much I love food, but I can really put down some serious desserts and sweets. Especially ice cream :)
I’m extremely anxious in the water and as a result, I’m a terrible swimmer even with several years of lessons as a kid. I wish this wasn't the case.
I have a lower pitched tone of voice. In 7^th grade choir, I was placed as an “alto” voice away from most of my friends and felt completely embarrassed about it.
I regularly mistaken certain phrases and quotes, like idioms, and miss or flip words around. For example, I say Mex Tex instead of Tex Mex.
I’m really bad at quantitative things. This has created A LOT of shame in my academic/professional career especially being an Asian person. I get real anxious when anyone asks me to do math things.
I grew up in a wealthy white conservative suburb in Orange County. I have held a lot of privilege guilt about my upbringing in political/BIPOC spaces.
I participate in and perpetuate white dominant culture. This deserves a longer reflection but to keep it brief, in reviewing this work, my orientations around perfectionism, a sense of urgency, worship of the written word, more is better, and promptness are conditions I’m exploring and breaking down.
I care a lot about other beings. I like to save spiders and dig little graves for dead bees I find. Caring too much has been a sore spot for me because I’ve been hurt by it (grew up without boundaries), but I know in my heart it’s a beautiful thing that the world needs more of.
I am a romantic person. I used to feel embarrassed about this. For me, romance isn’t about grand gestures, masking myself to impress, or filling a void I can’t fill myself. It's about intimacy and vulnerability, and a deep commitment to thoughtfully creating in small ways a safe home for myself and another to be freely who we are. This applies to all my relationships. My chosen sisters know I’m all about the womance.
While I am a pretty easy-going person, I have particulars about particular things. In the past, it didn't feel OK for me to be particular about anything as my conditioning was to accommodate others.
Along the same line, I hold MANY paradoxes within me. I can be this way AND that way, or feel this way AND that way. Good news is - these paradoxes no longer hold tension in the same way in my body. They just are what they are, and I try to be curious rather than judge myself.

Phew! The reality is, I have many more uncomfortable or imperfect things that I am still exploring and discovering and learning to accept :) What are the imperfect things you are learning to love and celebrate about yourself?

Choosing Courage

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Fri, 09 Jul 2021 16:00:00 +0000

It took several months to find the courage to tell most people about my decision to divorce. For many months following, I continued to stumble on my words and would avoid talking about it when possible. It felt excruciating inside to say more with anyone outside my very small circle of safety. It wasn't until last month did I finally say the words "I'm divorced" without feeling the weight of shame. So, this is a pretty big step for me, to be a guest on Katie Tuite's beautiful podcast Choosing Courage, where we talk about the intimate moments leading to the most painful decision of my life. Katie seamlessly moves us through a conversation about connecting to intuition, confronting fear, valuing stillness, and how A Year of Dana unfolded. A loving shout out to dear Grace Turkis for being the catalyst for this offering. Thanks for giving the show a listen, and for all the love and support as I continue to expose my heart to the world.

Click here to check out the show.

A Rite of Passage

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Mon, 14 Jun 2021 16:07:00 +0000

I'm so grateful to share, after a year of deep inner work, I crossed a rite of passage this weekend and became a certified Integral Coach with New Ventures West. My beloved teachers asked us these essential questions.

"What does it feel like to become more of yourself in your own life?"

"What does life want of you? What must be released in order to meet life's calling?" 

As I become more of myself in my own life, I feel so deeply free. I have little to contend with internally. There are no wars within me. This journey of becoming a coach, and more importantly, of becoming whole and intimate with myself, has gifted me peace and ease in my heart, mind, and body. The more of these qualities I feel, the more present and attentive I am to life. The more of life I witness, the stronger the energetic force within me grows, welcoming in all the possibilities for a deeper and more aligned way of life. The more truly I live, the more capacity I have within to hold the aches and pains of others with limitless love and tenderness. The more capable I am of this holding, the more I trust myself to live boldly. With this deep trust in life and a very full and open heart, I can gently invite others to discover and become more of who they are in their own lives.  And together, we unfold, we flourish, and we heal towards a better world for future generations and Mother Earth. 

Life's ask of me has never felt more clear and true. My work ahead is to repeatedly let go of the fears and stories about myself that have kept me small and yielding to others. I am to release my conditioned beliefs about success and value cultivated by dominant culture and patriarchy. I am to remove the blocks that keep me from seeing my own beauty and genius. I am to nurture an awakened mind, a soft heart, and a wise body for the benefit of all living beings, including myself. There will be no more distractions. I have been chosen by life and I feel true belonging. I am home. 

To the beautiful human beings who allowed me to walk the journey with them this past year as a coach-in-training, I learned so much from you and I am deeply grateful. 

To my teachers and family at New Ventures West, I can't wait to continue alchemizing with you. 

To my beloved mentors, teachers, friends, and family who have believed in my gifts and powers, who continue to support and cheer on my effort to fully give myself to this unknown spiritual path, I love you so very much. 

In the coming months, the magic of dana continues, I will be venturing into solopreneurship and launching my business practice as an Integral Coach. I am over La Luna about the possibilities. If you or a dear one are interested in approaching life from a more whole and integrated place, please reach out and we'll explore and potentiate the opportunities together. 

Oh, and this little photo is me, skipping the fucking shit out of this rope, showing the joy I feel being fully myself, the youthful old soul that I am   

The Quiet Heartbreak in Friendship

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Wed, 09 Jun 2021 04:41:00 +0000

We don't talk as much about the heartbreak we experience in friendship. Maybe we talk about disagreements we've had with someone or even momentary grievances that occur, but we rarely hear about the pain that comes from when a friendship transitions into a state that just doesn't feel the same as it once did.

Over the past few years, as my life has transformed, so have all of the relationships in my life in some way or another. Some have deepened in ways I couldn't expect. Some became even more like family. Some became easier and lighter. Some more strained or a little awkward. Some ended quietly. Some ended abruptly. Some became more distant. I've made new friendships that have nourished me deeply in a short time. I've lost old friends where the connection lost its steam and shared understanding. I've reconnected with those whose lives felt more relatable.

Recently I've been struggling with the impermanence of it all. I've been confused by my desire for things to stay the same, given that I've endured so much change already in life. It wasn't until I watched the Friends Reunion and heard this quote did I finally make some sense of the quiet sadness in my heart.

"If the show was about that time in your life where your friends are your family, once you start having a family of your own, it's no longer that time so the show came to a natural end..." - Marta Kauffman, Creator/Producer of Friends

Since I was a kid, my friends have been my family. My chosen family. I grew up in a household that wasn't so safe emotionally. So I turned to my friends for everything: support, safety, care, joy, and laughter. I give a lot to my relationships, and many of them give a lot in return. I honestly don't know who I'd be today if it weren't for the relationships I developed over the years. These relationships have saved me, really, from deep loneliness and serious depression probably. But like anything else in life, nothing is forever, at least not in the same way.

With this realization, I've been working on letting go of things needing to look and feel a particular way. Friendships, I know intimately, will have their ebbs and flows. Some will ebb and never return. Some will continue to ebb until conditions are ripe again for flow. Some will flow and take new shape. Some will flow and find deeper crevices to pour into. Even friendships have their seasons. And like the seasons, friendships will take their natural course. As I remind myself of this truth, I am practicing acceptance and gratitude, taking stock in what was shared and allowing myself to feel the grief of what's been lost.

1 Year Divorce Anniversary

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Wed, 19 May 2021 03:29:00 +0000

In 2012, the summer before our graduate program started, we took a dream trip to Asia. We witnessed a teaching by the Dalai Lama in his exiled home and had fresh grilled fish by a river in India. We saw the sacred temple ruins of Angkor Wat and experienced a sobering visit to the Land Mine Museum. We had the world's best boat noodles for 25 cents and drunkenly roamed the narrow shopping aisles of Siam in Thailand. We visited our parents' motherland and spent time with family eating delicious home cooked Vietnamese food. We visited my dear old nanny and second mother to my dad, an elderly nun who was living in a Catholic convent and died a year later.

In between these beautiful experiences with the world around us, the world between us was breaking down. We did our best to hide the tumult away from the friends we traveled with and visited but I'm sure the hardened distance between us was not difficult to sense. So many of the cracks in our relationship were already present then. Just as we were about to fall completely apart, one terrifying motor bike accident saved us, pulling our relationship back together at a moment when nothing else seemed redeeming. The accident woke us up to the preciousness of our relationship and together we softened into our shared suffering.

While we were in Thailand, we took a day trip out to Kanchanaburi Province, just outside Bangkok, to explore Erawan National Park, home to a spectacular seven tiered waterfall. On our way back on a motor bike, we were trailing a pickup truck on a two lane road. Thinking we had enough room to pass the truck, we sped our bike up on the left side, but overestimated, and the next thing you know, our bike along with our bodies were thrown into the gravel path right off the shoulder lane. After a visit to the local hospital, we walked away completely shook but only with excruciating road rash.

I had the worse wound of the bunch. Because it landed right on my right knee cap, it took forever to heal. It would open up repeatedly as I walked or did anything active for months. Each time I thought maybe it had finally closed, any particular movement would pull it apart again, stinging each time like several paper cuts. The wound healed into a really ugly, thick keloid. Even though the skin had completely healed over, the scar would still tingle with pain if I accidentally hit it on a corner or even poked it with my finger. It took a handful of years after the accident for the pain to fully go away. Now when I notice the scar, I remember what happened with a mix of feelings, but it no longer hurts.

The scar of my divorce is just like this scar on my knee. Some days, the scar opens up again and the sting of the wound can feel just as raw and tender. Other days, the grief is there but feels distant, somewhat dimmed in the background of daily life. The flesh of my heart is mending at her own pace, her skin growing thicker again, finding resilience and growth with each passing ache. Maybe one day, after more time has passed, when I notice this scar, many feelings may still arise, but perhaps it will no longer hurt.

I committed to a new conscious partnership

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Mon, 03 May 2021 00:46:00 +0000

The photo of myself represents my feminine, when I was tenderly rubbing my dear friend's feet, she had just given birth at home. The piece represents my masculine, called vajra, a thunderbolt symbol in Tibetan Buddhism that cuts through ignorance.

I committed to a new conscious partnership, within myself, and to myself.

This past weekend, my inner feminine and masculine made vows to each other to create a loving, expansive, and conscious partnership within me. We had a ceremony, made offerings to an altar, and celebrated in dance with sacred community. No other partnership in this lifetime has ever felt more clear and available to me.

From masterful teachers, I've been learning about the energetics within my body. This field of study has given me a new lens for deeper self understanding. We all have a mix of feminine and masculine energies within us, regardless of our sex and gender. From a young age, our energies are developed and shaped by our conditioning within our homes and out in the world. In my family of origin and marriage, and even my work environments, my feminine energies were rejected yet my masculine energies were not fully embraced. Of course our environments are projected mirrors of our inner world experiences. For most of my life, I either couldn't step fully into my masculine heart power, or would do so without enough support. I repeatedly rejected my own intuitive and tender feminine ways. Many of us, without conscious examination and inner work, live with imbalanced, wounded energies within our own bodies, which is what keeps us fragmented within and creates imbalance and tension in relationship with others.

When our balanced masculine and feminine meets another's balanced way, there can be a flow that feels deep and magnetic and also light and easeful, just like a river, flowing gracefully back and forth. Both are safely seen, supported, and loved by the inner and outer balance. The connection is grounding and calm, yet filled with excitement for possibility. Balance within is an essential foundation here, and can lead to more harmony and peace outside of us in all kinds of relationships and environments.

Here I share my vows with you. Both parts of me read these to each other.

I promise to practice being in energetic balance and wholeness within.
I promise to show up with you practicing presence and mindfulness.
I promise to practice groundedness so that I will stay and not abandon your heart or my own.
I promise to be aware and respectful of your heart-mind-body.
I promise to work with the stories, fears, and traumas that may affect or block my energy and connection to you.
I promise to never stop discovering myself and you.
I promise to co-create a safe holding environment with you where we may be accountable, truthful, and vulnerable.
I promise to accept, love, and value you as you are and embrace your imperfections.
I promise to practice seeing myself and you clearly without delusion.
I promise to give you quality attention and tend to you in the small details.
I promise to regularly check-in with your heart and breath and help you restore where I can.
I promise to practice curious, non-judgmental, and gentle communication about my emotional, spiritual, and intimacy needs.
I promise to practice tenderness and gentleness with myself and you.
I promise to contemplate birth, death, and impermanence so that we may live most presently.
I am responsible for my own happiness, peace, and wellbeing, and will support yours.
I commit to autonomy and togetherness, a place of "us" -- a healthy interdependence.
I commit to my own healing journey, yet share with you a joint path of spiritual growth, connection, and love.
I commit to a path of consciousness, awakening to my truest nature of abundant compassion and awareness.

After making these vows within and to myself, I feel incredibly clear and rooted in my wholeness.

Thank you for witnessing and holding this commitment of mine with compassion and love.

Podcast Launch: Asian Heart Mind Body Collective

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Fri, 30 Apr 2021 14:10:00 +0000

Hi friends and family,

I am super excited to announce the launch of a new podcast called Asian Heart Mind Body Collective! In collaboration with my dear friend, Adele Ray, a fellow Vietnamese sister and filmmaker, we’re creating a space for Asian sisters and brothers to come as they are to share their healing stories and experiences. Recognizing the harm and violence occurring right now within our communities, we’re taking action in a way that may compassionately bring light to our collective pain, yet also celebrate our beautiful joys and triumphs without apology.

We release Episode 1 today, on the 46th Anniversary of Black April commemorating an important time in history for many in our community. If you’re curious, please listen here! You can also find it on Spotify and Amazon Music. It will be available soon on Apple Podcasts.

If you could consider passing along this message and flyer today to five or more of your friends, we’d be so grateful! Also, if you have any ideas or feedback for the podcast, we’d love to hear from you. Please follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Thank you for your support!

With love,

Danielle

http://www.asianheartmindbodycollective.com/

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ABOUT THE PODCAST

Asian Heart Mind Body Collective is a podcast that holds sacred circle for everyday people by integrating mindfulness practice, cross-cultural ritual, and storytelling. With the tools of our own medicine, we unearth the impact of intergenerational trauma, unravel the deeper connection between all things, and explore the spiritual mystery of simply living everyday in our beautiful Asian bodies. Join us and dive deeply into the discovery of our own medicine and heart-mind-body awareness. Although this podcast emphasizes the multitude of Asian experiences, it is open for anyone in our global community who feels the call to listen.

A Life of Dana: 5 Ways to Make Generosity a Lifelong Practice

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 15 Apr 2021 22:42:00 +0000

Receiving this sweet gift from a dear friend that made my heart somersault
I LOVE MAPS!

Last week, I reached the one year milestone of A Year of Dana since I left my job.

Today, I am a very different person. In many ways, I am unrecognizable to myself, yet I know I'm on the path of returning home. I attribute a large part of this transformation to the practice of dana.

Dana (pronounced dah-nah), is a Pali word for generosity, which is the foundation upon which other important qualities like patience and wisdom are built. From my intentional practice of generosity, I realize, I want to live a life of dana, not just a brief year. I want the practice of generosity to be fully integrated into the way I experience life everyday. Generosity is a way of being through the acts of giving and receiving. It is not a one way practice. It can be learned and trained over time with intentionality. Here are 5 ways to make generosity a lifelong practice.

1. Give fully to yourself without harboring guilt

Many of us, especially from Asian households prioritizing the collective good, are taught that giving to ourselves is selfish. Most of my life, giving to myself has always come with deep guilt internally (and externally!). Whether it be buying something material, taking space away from family, investing in nontraditional education, or enjoying a vacation. Giving to myself meant not being able to take care of others. I've had to flip that story upside down. Now, giving to myself means tending to my being in such a way that actually expands my capacity to be there for others. I've learned to temper the guilt by being friendly with it and then letting it go. I'm giving to myself unabashedly these days and it feels so damn nourishing. This inner nourishment then makes giving to others a more joyful practice.

2. Give knowing your true motivation

It's important to be clear and honest about why I'm giving. Is it because I'm trying to please? To impress? To match another's gift? To meet social pressures and expectations? To do so because it's just the thing to do? Or am I giving because there's a sincere energy to it? Because it may make another really happy? Because it is a thoughtful gesture? Because it's going to a good cause? I've developed a discernment around what's at the root of my generous action. I have also accepted the true nature of giving - that I do it because it brings me joy, too. And that's all good. Having this clarity makes the practice of giving feel more easeful where it can sometimes hold a lot of inner tension.

3. Give from an abundant heart

Giving freely has required a reconditioning of my scarcity mindset -- the belief that all things are limited. We're trained by capitalism to believe that time, energy, money, and even love are going to run out. That we need to hoard these things. It's simply not true. We cannot fear losing what we have. We must be okay with loss and trust that even if we lose something, something else will arrive. As we give, more will come. This is the abundant heartset.

4. Receive generosity with grace and presence

Receiving has been my greatest growth edge. As a helper type, I tend to shirk opportunities to receive kindness from others because at the core of my challenge is a feeling of unworthiness. I used to believe I was not deserving of things -- kind words, material gifts, a helping hand. This past year, I have practiced receiving with a slow presence that allows me to see my discomfort with it and then to respond mindfully and gracefully. I started to see that receiving love openly and fully is an equally generous act. So the next time someone tries to give you a compliment or a little gift, gently squash your need to say "nooooo" or "don't worry about it," and instead, slow down, look them in the eyes, smile, and say thank you. It is that simple.

5. Ask for help mindfully and directly, yet without expectation

Most my life I have been scared to ask for help - from the tiniest things to the larger needs with even my closest beloveds. Part of it is fear of rejection. Part of it is my ego wanting to do it myself. Part of it is the illusion of efficiency ("I can do this faster myself"). Part of it is not wanting to "owe" anyone anything. Part of it is not wanting to feel like a burden. I didn't realize that not asking for help could actually shortcut a creative process, take away another's ability to contribute, or prevent deeper connection with another. Asking for help is really a practice of vulnerability because we're required to put ourselves out there to show that we need others. The truth is, we do need others, and accepting this is important to living joyful and sustainable lives. We are not meant to do things alone.

When people walk away from you

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 01 Apr 2021 18:58:00 +0000

When people walk away from you, let them walk. Let them go.

Bishop T.D. Jakes speaks this wisdom during an electrifying sermon that has gone viral for good reason. His guidance is real, grounded, and truthful.

When I recall moments of being abandoned whether emotionally or physically by my family, ex-partner, or other beloveds in my life, I close my eyes and can feel instantly, the sensation of trauma spinning circles within my abdomen, as if my insides are being wrung like a towel. It doesn't feel good, yet at this point, I know it's momentary so I stay with it, breathe deeply, and then it passes, like all things in life.

As I grow intimate with my own body, I become more amazed by her and what she teaches me. My body is no longer this thing I have to just feed and train and make fit. Western society socializes us to identify "the self" as our minds primarily - our personalities, values, beliefs, and ideas. Thus, our body becomes this separate thing that we have just to aid our psyche. So we tend to treat it like shit. We starve it, we poison it, we push it like crazy, and we frequently ignore what it tells us. Over the past year, I've done the difficult yet liberating work to decolonize this narrow belief about the mind-body separation. I see my body differently. I treat her gently. I listen to her.

When people walk away from you, let them walk. Let them go.

I think about my body in these moments when people have left. How the sharp sensations in my stomach were cruelly ignored. How disconnection from the pain kept me from accepting the truth. In my mind, I was completely gripped by my fears and attachments and stories. Instead of letting them walk away, I would hang on as tight as I could or I would keep myself numb and dissociate when they did. I would blame myself that they wanted to leave. I would spend all my might and energy trying to convince them otherwise. That I was worth loving. That I would try harder. That things would be good.

When people walk away from you, let them walk. Let them go.

Now, when someone walks away, it still hurts, quite deeply. But instead of ignoring my body's response to it, I allow curiosity to arise. I open myself to the spinning circles in my stomach. I let the physical sensation run its full course. I notice the stories float in and out of my mind like film scenes scrolling by. I witness the tenacious part of me, feeling myself still wanting to convince, but I know better now.

Finally, I've learned to let them walk. I let them go.

I turn inwards to Truc, my little person, and I tell her this.

It's okay. It's not your fault. They walked away because something within them kept them from staying. Something kept them on the shores. You can't help them swim towards deeper waters. To heal. To see truth. To allow possibility. To love themselves. In letting go, you get to choose you. Trust and release. What's meant for you will know and will be.

We are no different from the Atlanta killer

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sat, 27 Mar 2021 04:45:00 +0000

We are no different from the Atlanta killer, Robert Aaron Long.

The colonial capitalist patriarchy, and its associated structures and institutions, reinforces the cultivation of inner hatred and oppression in each of us. The system breeds this inner hatred and oppression, seeking ultimately to keep us divided.

To believe we are separate from this white man who murdered eight innocent people in Atlanta would confine us to exactly what the system wants - supremacist ways. To view ourselves as different from him keeps us from seeing the complexities of our human experience as well as the structural systems that entrap all of us. To hate him and everything he represents in return will keep us deluded from the healing we all desperately need individually and collectively.

Robert Aaron Long is unfortunately an ugly mirror for each of us. To see how gruesomely and tragically our inner pain can unravel left ignored. To see where within us do we hold our own hatred or dislike of self, shame and non-acceptance, and fear of not being loved or seen as who we are. To see where in our own life do we wield harm towards ourselves and those around us.

All of us cause harm. To ourselves. To each other. To other living beings. To the earth. We mistreat those we love most. We self brutalize in our minds and beat down our own bodies. We kill animals for food. We destroy the ocean and create toxins in the air. We have addictions to substances, greed, money, and security. We can abuse and traumatize ourselves and each other, often without even knowing.

While there may be a scale to the degree of harm caused by our actions and behaviors, should any level of it be acceptable?

As an Asian American woman, I have vacillated uncontrollably between bouts of angry rage and deep anguish, grieving endlessly for the violence towards and deaths of Asian people. I have struggled to find empathy for these perpetrators, yet know intimately the systems that created their inner hate. I am attempting to hold both and. Upon learning about the Atlanta deaths, my mind immediately thought of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and the generations of countless Black and Brown bodies taken from this earth. I am angry at a system that would allow a white man, after killing four, to get 40 miles away to kill another four, while a Black man using counterfeit money died with a knee to his neck.

No system of harm should be accepted. No level of harm should be accepted.

And not accepting harm must start within each of us.

Unfuckwitable

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 25 Mar 2021 22:05:00 +0000

All my life, I saw my heart as weak.

I grew up being told that my tears were cowardly. That my sensitivities left me too exposed and indefensible to the world. That the soft ways of my heart were signs of my fragility and unsteadiness.

My mom often expressed her greatest concern for me being out in the world, especially when it came to love and relationships.

Má sợ con sẽ bị ăn hiếp.

I am afraid you will be abused or bullied.

My mom was 21 when she had my oldest brother. She was 29 when her entire family left her behind in Vietnam, when the war ended and my dad was taken to communist camp leaving her behind with 3 small children. She was 32 when they escaped by boat with nothing but a few dollars.

Con phải giống Má.

You must be like me.

Strong, resilient, unbothered, and unfuckwitable. All the qualities opposite of a weak heart.

Con là cọp giấy.

You are a paper tiger.

Not a real tiger. Bite-less. Weak and needing protection.

These things I heard growing up crafted a deep-seated story in my mind about what I was made of. I used to think "paper tiger" was an endearing term. But deep inside, I held shame about what the term implied about who I was. I equated it to weak heartedness. I judged these supposedly weak parts of me. I let my marriage reinforce this story. I shoved away these essential aspects of my being.

Recently, my spiritual teacher taught me a new way of understanding weak heartedness.

Lacking the courage to be truthful and authentic with ourselves.

This whole time, what I believed to be weak actually clouded me from seeing the truth of my own heart. That weakness wasn't in my tears, or in my vulnerabilities. Weakness was in the absence of my courage to stand in my own truth and authenticity. That is where I had no bite. That is where I was not a real tiger. I couldn't stand to be with the truth of who I was.

Coming to terms with this new notion of a weak heart has brought much sadness and grief for the person I once was, but it has also brought deep gratitude, appreciation, and joy for the woman I am today.

No longer a paper tiger. I found my bite, my courage, and my truth.

No longer weak hearted.

Instead, strong hearted, full hearted, open hearted, clear hearted, and...unfuckwitable.

Winter is Over

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Fri, 05 Mar 2021 19:47:00 +0000

The snow is melting and the first signs of life are re-emerging. Small blades of grass and flowers are beginning to sprout through the remaining layers of icy slush. Earthly signs of a beautiful new genesis.

Winter is over.

The sun's warmth is here. She illuminates wonder upon the seeds that were planted. I look up at her, gently smiling.

My life's longest stretch of winter is finally approaching its point of transition.

Relief slowly comes over my body and my spirit begins to lift.

After setting down the last bit of weight I was carrying, my hands are now fully free to shape and create life, allowing my spirit to transpire fully into the artistry of who I am. In this new season, my intention is to continue integrating all parts of me. The opposing parts of me. The paradoxical parts of me. The renewing parts of me. The parts of me still developing. My aim is wholeness. Stepping bravely into wholeness, bringing together light and dark, deepening balance within, and bringing my gifts and talents fully into the world.

For the last couple of years, I've been navigating this in between stage of myself. Not exactly the person I once was, but not fully the person I was walking towards. This in between version of myself was grieving, yet imagining possibility. She was in pain, but feeling more alive than ever. She didn't know where she was, but she wasn't rushing to find her direction either. My past self seemed so distant, yet my new self was still taking shape.

More than two years ago, I set out on a journey because my soul felt empty and my heart was dry of love. Without knowing what would come, I spoke my intentions to reinvent myself into the universe by sharing very vulnerably with my community.

The work to unravel my inner world since then has changed me at a cellular level. I have shed so much of myself. Layers of conditions, behaviors, and beliefs. I am no longer last on my list of what's important. My new skin is lighter, more flexible. No longer a full iron suit of armor. No longer needing to protect myself from suffering because I have already felt the worst of it. No longer letting fear dictate my choices. No longer misaligned with my greatest truths.

I am speaking authentically. I am setting clear boundaries. I am taking emotional risks. I am creating. I am feeling. I am loving deeply. I am tending to myself. I am paying attention. I live in my body. I care less about what others think. I am prepared for pain. I am gentle with myself and the world around me. I am moving towards intimacy in each moment. I am finding my way slowly and patiently. I am healing.

The seasons come and go in life. Different winters will surely arrive again. But for now, this long, harsh winter is over and today, the flowers are blooming with delight.

In this new cycle, I feel more capable, more resourced internally, and more open to not knowing. I've taken a leap through a portal of transformation, and where I've landed is this beautiful new and tender becoming of the person I have always been.

Dear friend: Why I write, why I share

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Tue, 02 Feb 2021 19:25:00 +0000

Dear friend,

When I decided to share my writing with the world, to share these deeply personal reflections openly and vulnerably, my purpose was not to make friends or to be liked or to seek validation from others. I knew I was taking a risk. I knew some people would disagree with my effort.

I found my way back to writing, first and foremost, as a source of my own deep healing, a journey I understand not everyone will choose or have the resources or capacity to pursue. Writing and sharing with others is my effort to expose my heart as expansively as possible. Because when I put my heart out there, there's really nothing else to lose or be scared of in life. And that's my intention here, is to live each moment without fear, and as authentically as possible.

The reactions I've received over the past year of writing has been overwhelming. It has revealed to me that many of us live in real emotional isolation. It has showed me that many are suffering without being seen and heard. It has allowed me to feel into the human experience in ways I had not understood. People far and wide have reached out to share their stories and reflections of their own lives. People are longing for connection and shared understanding. I've talked with many new friends, reconnected with old ones, deepened existing relationships, and found alignment with new communities enriching my journey. The gifts from sharing my inner world has been truly endless.

With every single post I share, I am putting up a mirror for you to look at. What do you see when you look?

You might sense your own discomfort, or fear, or pain. You might think what I'm doing or saying is too much, too intense, or too personal. You might even feel angry at me, or disgusted, or unknowingly irritated by what you're reading. You might feel triggered. You might feel judgmental, of me, or of yourself. You might even feel your own traumas surface. You might see yourself in my story and feel relief or even love unexpectedly. You might feel seen for the first time. You might feel joy and appreciation. You might feel compassion for me, or yourself.

Whatever it is you are experiencing, it's okay. And however you are receiving it, it may be a signal for something deeper to explore. You could follow the thread, set it aside, or find it later, or even ignore it. There's no right or wrong choice. It's just what ever you're ready or not ready to be with, and again, it's okay any way. I invite in patience and self-compassion for whatever is arising. Please know, you are loved regardless, just as you are.

Thank you to those who continue to witness and experience this shared journey.

With care and gratitude,

Danielle

I lived most my life with anxiety without knowing it

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sat, 30 Jan 2021 06:43:00 +0000

Thirty-four years of life, two therapists, three coaches, and a divorce later... I recently discovered, I have lived with high functioning anxiety without knowing it.

I don't blame anyone for not having helped me figure it out sooner. The hallmark characteristic of this condition is the ability to mask it quite effectively. All my life, I've been told:

"Danielle, you're so calm, composed, and collected."

I was always confused by this feedback. Truly puzzled after every performance review or 360 cycle. What people saw of me felt so far from how I felt inside. It's no wonder I felt like an imposter. I lacked the skill, space, and safety to explore or communicate the dissonance. Over the years, I assumed what I felt inside was just normal wear and tear of the hamster wheel. Your regular work or school stress. But no, it was more than acute stress. It's been a longterm pattern of anxiety living within me since I was a kid. Because I was so disconnected from my body, the reality of this anxiety remained disguised and unseen. And if I am being honest, it was probably unconscious denial due to fear of being 'othered'. I'm not like people with real mental health conditions because I've got my shit together.

In college, as a student leader, I focused primarily on mental health advocacy. I sat on the Chancellor's Committee on Student Mental Health and organized UC Berkeley's first ever Mental Health Awareness Week. This work intended to support all students with reducing stigma to mental health, drawing attention especially to the disproportionate depression screening rates of students of color. Throughout that work, I thought of myself as being outside these students whom I was advocating for. But now, I see that maybe a hidden part of me was also advocating for myself.

Putting a name to this experience has been incredibly powerful and relieving. I have a fresh understanding of my behaviors: showing up superrr early everywhere, being exceptionally organized, planful, and prepared, being very helpful to others, needing lots of reassurance, constant overthinking and rumination, constantly filled social calendar, and unexamined loyalty in relationships.

Learning these things helps explain how part of my childhood conditioning evolved seamlessly into adulthood. I got really good at trying to be perfect and overachieving because: I didn't want to disappoint others, I didn't want to fail, I didn't want to be seen as not enough, and I wanted to be loved. I kept moving. I kept doing. I kept busy. And so, I've accomplished a lot, but at what cost? This anxiety kept me from taking risks, embracing my creative intuition, connecting intimately with myself and others, and staying present to the beauty of my life.

Well, now that it's here in the limelight, I am befriending it. I am exploring new ways of relating to my behaviors and notice when they're driven by anxiety or true authenticity.

I have Year of Dana and my healing path to thank for this discovery, along with my beloveds who have been mirrors for me on this journey. Thankfully, my body is finally healing. As she recovers from many years of these unconscious ways, she can finally tell me wisdom she's held all along.

She says to me, Danielle, when you can:

let go of what you thought you knew about myself
make your self care, rest, and wellbeing your #1 priority
create space for stillness, silence, and slowness
lean deeply into your spiritual practice

What you can experience is this:

True calmness, composure, and collectedness. Right inside of you.

The only place where it really matters.

**For anyone who resonates with this post and would like to connect, please reach out anytime. Check out this article for more info. I got you. Much love.**

My Healing is No Longer Negotiable

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Sat, 23 Jan 2021 04:18:00 +0000

As I descend into the final part of Year of Dana, I realize, this journey will not end at the one year mark. I will not be returning to before, yet I will not be arriving either. Because there is no arriving where there is no destination. All I have is my trust in self and what I cannot yet see ahead of me.

What I do know though is this: my healing is no longer negotiable. Nothing will ever again stand in between myself and my inner home of love and resilience. Not a partner. Not my family. Not a career. Not society. Not patriarchy. Not capitalism. My inner world is the single most important, most sacred, and most precious thing to me.

I am committed to a way of being that prioritizes my freedom, my wakefulness, my rest and wellbeing, and my expression of inner truth and power. I am committed to overwriting old narratives and unlearning conditions that once took control of my body. I am committed to living fearlessly with a heart of abundance.

Deep healing, gentleness, and tenderness will be integrated into every aspect of my lived experience. In what I eat and drink. In what I read and watch. In what I pay attention to. In what I practice. In how I care for my body. In how I sleep. In how, what, and who I work and serve. In how I lead. In how I make decisions. In how I speak. In how, what, and who I love.

My heart-mind-body will be relentlessly aligned to the truth of my being. So aligned that if something or someone is not contributing to this process of healing, of staying awake and conscious, of being alive, of being free, I will have no interest or energy to expend. My body finally knows what healing feels like, and it won't accept anything or anyone less, ever again.

While I have no clue what my life holds moving forward, I have clear seeing on its direction. I am the gardener of my own soul and spirit and I will grow this garden with the utmost care and integrity.

Poem for Flight by Becky Birtha

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Wed, 20 Jan 2021 23:54:00 +0000

Thank you to Harriet Tubman and countless pioneers, seen and unseen, who did the work to free themselves in order to help free the minds, hearts, and bodies of others. Thank you to those who helped free my heart. Thank you to my spiritual sister who shared this beautiful and timely poem.

Poem for Flight by Becky Birtha

There will come a day —
it is not far off now —
when you wake up in the morning and know
you were meant to be happy
and that you want it
more than you want
things, or memories
any concrete place called home
all the strings of the past that fasten you,
more than you want
justice or pride:
your old clay image of yourself
or the faint chance
that all that has gone wrong
may still change.

It is you who hold
the power to change.

And whatever it is that holds you
whatever it is you think you cannot live without
the time has come to open your hands and
let it go.

Run
flee
disappear
break loose
take wing
fly by night
move like a meteor
be gone.

If you fear it will never be possible
think of Harriet
who traveled alone
the first time
who finally freed three hundred people
but first
had to free
herself.

Do you love me?

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Wed, 13 Jan 2021 17:16:00 +0000

2nd Grade Danielle

Do you love me?

I asked this question of my ex-partner repeatedly in our marriage. Sometimes it was asked playfully. As we were waking up in the morning. Or right before bed. Or before he left for the day or a long week of work travel. Or while we snuggled in bed. Or just randomly on a walk or in the kitchen. Sometimes it was asked desperately. As we argued. Or as we existed painfully in disconnection. Or when we finished a family meeting. Or while we sat in silence during a car ride.

Do you love me?

Over time, it became a part of our unspoken norm, embedded seamlessly into our way of being together, without any close examination. Partially conditioned by my own insecurities and fears of abandonment and not being loved. Partially conditioned by a relationship environment that hardened over time, one that grew unsafe emotionally.

Do you love me?

Sometimes the question was met with love and kindness. Sometimes with sincere reassurance. Sometimes with silliness. Sometimes with hurt. Sometimes with anger and exasperation. Sometimes with disgust and withholding.

Do you love me?

I asked because I was scared. I asked because I didn't know. I asked because I couldn't feel it in my heart or my body. I asked because I couldn't tell myself a different story. I asked because I was taught to find the answer outside of me.

Do you love me?

The question itself should have caused pause to begin with. The root of the question should have been explored tenderly. But neither of us were capable at the time to be with the question in the way that it needed.

As I look back, I've discovered, the question was asked from a place of deep longing. A longing I've held since being a little girl. A longing to be seen. A longing to be held tenderly. A longing to feel loved unconditionally. A longing to express things I didn't have available in words. It was asked from an empty vessel inside of me. A vessel that is no longer empty but instead filled with my own love and care. With deeper insight, I realized, the question I should have been asking instead was, do I love myself?

As I've unearthed both questions on this journey, there are many threads unraveling. Dark and light threads coming undone. Some thick, some thin, some tightly knotted, some loosening with ease. Instead of quickly pulling at each thread, I'm practicing patience with myself, being with each thread gently. The thread of shame, that a seemingly independent and strong willed woman would need that kind of reassurance. The thread of guilt, for putting the weight of that need on him alone. The thread of compassion, for the longing part of me that couldn't be fully seen then.

With every thread that I untangle, I heal the little girl in me who didn't know how to create that love within herself. I nurture forgiveness for her. I place my hand on her heart and I tell her, I have always loved you.

See you later Bay Area, I'm returning to the belly of the beast

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 31 Dec 2020 17:30:00 +0000

What I am returning to... my mom and her lecturing fingers :)

I'm returning to the belly of the beast. I'm headed to Orange County to live with my aging parents for the first time since leaving at the age of 17. This decision arrived from deep listening to my intuition, a quiet yet bold calling for me to return to the origins of my greatest wounds.

You see, over the last couple years, as I've uncovered some of my deepest sufferings, artifacts from familial trauma have surfaced along the way. Shiny, prickly artifacts that have somehow survived many generations, remaining in the most pristine condition. So pristine, it's easy to believe they're brand new relics that I created myself. But, I didn't create them, and they're not just mine. They belong to my mother and father, and their mothers and fathers, and their mothers and fathers. And now it's time for me to explore what aspects of these ancestral artifacts should be set down, and what aspects should continue guiding me in this lifetime. I realized on this journey of awakening, I have the power to choose what I take with me.

I want to be really honest here with myself. I am not returning to the belly of the beast with a blind mission to be martyr and change my parents for the better. My intention is to learn how to love and accept them fully as they are today, with all their wounds and artifacts in tact, from the lens that I am wearing in this moment, as the person I am today. I will be holding these questions mindfully.

Can I break old patterns within myself while staying in connection to my parents?

Can I show up fully, engage them sincerely, and not dissociate or dismiss them as I have in the past?

Can I stay connected to my grounding practices and lean further into my self care?

Can I draw healthy boundaries respectfully and compassionately to fully honor emotional needs?

Can I fully acknowledge my feelings yet be gentle and forgive myself when I make mistakes?

Can I choose myself while staying respectful and caring of my parents?

Can I practice generosity and abundance without betraying myself to earn their love and approval?

Can I set down the idealization of what my mom should be to me and receive her fully as she is?

There is no playbook to healing intergenerational trauma in a refugee family. But I do know that my inner work this year has gifted me tools and practices that give me a deeper capacity to engage the origins of my wounds in a new way. I want to leave room for them to surprise me. I want to see if I can make space for a different way. Because I learned, when I change, the world around me can change as well. I am not expecting perfection of myself. I am not expecting to be the dutiful daughter who always does right. I am not expecting warm and cuddly 7th Heaven status relationships with my family. Instead, I hope for deeper understanding and acceptance within myself. I hope for self forgiveness and compassion. I hope for lighter and joyful moments with my parents. And while having these hopes is okay, I will stay present with the unfolding process, practicing non-attachment with the outcome of the experience.

My only intention is to simply try a different way. Regardless of the outcome, my effort will undoubtedly bring some insight for this lifelong path. And if all goes terribly and somehow my stubborn 17 year old self comes back with a fierce vengeance, it's all good. At the very least, I'll be fed some delicious Vietnamese food.

Farewell Little Shoebox

noreply@blogger.com (Danielle T Duong ) — Thu, 31 Dec 2020 04:57:00 +0000

When I moved into this little shoebox studio shortly after my separation, I sensed immediately it had an energetic holding that would support the most difficult period of my life. Living here with my roommate has taught me a lot about the value of creating a space that connects me to beauty, peace, and spaciousness. The existence of these elements in my physical environment brings a sense of ease and safety to my mind and heart. My relationship with beauty has shifted quite meaningfully while living here. Things I used to overlook or defer to another are now supremely important to me. Having beautiful flowers at the table. Enjoying the charm of each furniture piece. Displaying unique art. Lighting candles and burning palo santo. Letting sunlight and fresh air through the windows. Playing soft music in the background. Making my bed. Tending to my altar and meditation corner. These seemingly simple practices have helped me center and turn inwards for refuge.

My dining table pictured above is very special to me. When I lived with my ex, for years, I had wanted to replace our janky dining table. I brought up regularly if we could find something different. Compared to other things, it never became a priority. I would browse and browse for a new one but never followed through, leaving only myself dissatisfied. I'm working to forgive the version of me that gave away the agency to make that change myself, independent of his approval. My dining table was the first piece of furniture I found for my new place. Finding it symbolized a reclamation of my own power to create an external world that mirrors what I sought to cultivate in my inner world.

My greatest lesson from living with myself in this sweet studio: I am fully capable of creating a truly sacred and authentic space that can meet my needs and hold my energy safely and preciously in all its forms. How I treat my physical environment reflects how I treat my internal environment. Now, more than ever before, I treat both environments with attention, sincerity, care, and kindness. Tonight is my last night in this special nest. When I moved in, I knew in my heart it would be an impermanent arrangement, just long enough to find myself again. Little shoebox, I bid you farewell with the deepest gratitude and appreciation. Thank you for holding me during the most painful moments and for letting me dance and be myself freely and joyfully.

Click here to learn about where I'm headed...