Reclaiming my time and myself, honestly
Coming to terms with chronic illness, social media as a drug, and what's next
A lot of the time when I write, I don’t really dive in past elevated, top-level summaries that are distilled down into concise, catchy one-sentence reminders. To be honest, I just haven’t had much capacity. And there’s been a lot of fear of over-sharing.
If you are subscribed to Gentle Reminders, my monthly newsletter, you’ve known about what a year of transformation 2023 was. (Funnily enough, at the beginning of 2023, I didn’t pick out an angel card from Burning Bowl and much came through in its absence.) Between commuting between a beloved community in Big Sur, living in the East Bay, moving from Oakland, to starting to plant fresh starts in Marin, to questioning if the move was worth it between the droves of maggots, flies, cigarette smoke, allergies and sickness that came with untreated mold and mildew, to moving on Christmas weekend to our third apartment in one year, while adopting a very very anxious but very very cute dog; it’s been a lot.
On one level, my capacity has been limited by sheer number of things that have been thrown my way. On another level - my capacity is forever limited.
I’ve lived my entire life with chronic illness. The illness has shape shifted often and in many alarming ways. The most recent resulting in a limited capacity, sparking my shift towards all things rest-based in 2018.
Before going on winter break in late 2023, I’d been feeling the push to continue slowing down. Terrifying. As a person intent on returning back to being a full-time solopreneur, slowing down is the last thing you want to do. I couldn’t deny that nudging that after 10 years of teaching, holding space for others, and for output, I was ready to reconnect with some input. So I set out to reclaim my time.
Reclaiming my time initially meant slowing down and tending to myself. It meant saying no to things that didn’t feel like full body fuck yeses. It meant letting go of a weekly schedule after ten years of teaching to make space for the next level of my offerings. It meant doing less. It meant being present more. It meant resting more, sleeping almost entire days to catch up on my sleep debt. It meant focusing in on what I could get done in a day, not what I felt I should. It left me with so much time, I didn’t know what to do with myself. So in this space of unwinding years of conditioning and sense of urgency, I found solace in doom-scrolling on my phone. I was hungry for overstimulation.
There were pockets of insight. Times where I really welcomed the spaciousness and spirit would come through as inspiration and creativity. Nudges along the path to write, to envision, to dream. Coming into the truth of living with a restricted bandwidth was tough. Inadvertently, reclaiming my time slowly led me to a deeper journey of reclaiming myself.
In January, I took my mom to see the Pacita Abad exhibit at the SFMOMA. Somehow, in the frenzy of getting a partner, a pup, and myself out of the door, I’d forgotten my phone at home.
“When I heard you forgot your phone, I said - oh wow! I get to have her present with me all day!” my mom exclaimed excitedly.
I balked, hurt. I always considered myself a bit more present than most. Immediately, I realized it wasn’t the first time a loved one had shared about my destructive habit. My partner, E, had shared the same sentiments with me a week prior.
That day at the museum was a turning point for me and I hope to share more. What was I giving my time, awareness, and mental space to - unconsciously? Where would I go?
Outside of myself. Straight to social media. Disassociating. While I deleted IG and FB, I kept TikTok and scrolling immediately became my new drug dealer. I felt “productive” by learning so much so quickly, but I also felt like a piece of shit when I’d notice my whole day had flown by without doing anything.
Scrolling felt more fulfilling than staying connected with folks. It felt easier, less energy expended. The short-form videos were perfect for my limited attention span, but they were training my brain to only hold an audience for 10 seconds, max. I could do it while lying down in bed, unable to do anything else.
The truth was - I was having trouble staying in my body, with all of this new spaciousness and asks to come to rest.
It wasn’t until a very recent health scare in my family that I started to wake up.
If I truly was living with a chronic illness, then what do I need to stay healthy?
It felt clear to me:
Social media wasn’t it. I’ve grown tired of performing for folks, of feeling like I need to “catch up with the Joneses.’” Honestly, the lack of transparency and radical authenticity on these curated feeds are just offensive and harmful now. I’m excited to continue working to distance myself from the apps and hope to be fully transitioned off of IG + FB by the end of the year.
Checking myself on scrolling. I don’t believe in going cold turkey. Much like the failed attempt at Whole 30 last month, I believe success comes in sustainability. I’ve set up time limits on my apps that I’ve forced myself to listen to them when those reminders crop up to stop.
Honoring my limited capacity and being radically creative in envisioning my work. I’m excited as tendrils of creativity are coming through. I’m thrilled this substack, has started to take up shape and direction. Aligning my schedule with my monthly cycle has been transformative. Giving myself permission for my work to look and feel differently than what’s being modeled out there, honoring my restricted capacity.
Pouring into what nourishes me. Lately, that’s been reading again, writing again, being unafraid to share myself. It’s been committing to my business in a more grounded sense, it’s been following the flow of my energy as it ebbs and flows - without questioning it, it’s been reconnecting and pouring into relationships that have been supportive. It’s also been more therapy, less social interactions, more quality relationships, less toxic business opportunities and partnerships.
Following the full body fuck yeses + being radically honest with myself. It’s so easy to live in the woulds, shoulds, and woulds, and I’ve been practicing just simplifying things down to whether shit lights me up or not and excising the rest of the extraneous. It’s required being radically honest with myself, which is challenging.
Recommitting to my health. I’m coming back to the basics of nourishment: hydration, reconnecting to cooking for myself, of daily movement, working up towards gentle exercise, and making space for readjusting my expectations as someone with chronic illness.
Reclaiming my history, reconnecting to my roots. I’ve been nudged to reconnect with my roots and have been interested in reading and ingesting more material from AAPI creators and it’s been the most fulfilling way to reconnect to self.
What’s next for me? Honoring the calling of writing more. Of getting over the fear of things not being imperfect and sharing them anyway.
What’s new is rebranding this substack as A Tender Reclamation, which I hope - is a harbinger of things to come.
My plan now is to put things into practice. As I’ve been deepening in my studies around somatics, energetic + embodiment sovereignty, I’m excited to start following it and utilizing this space as a place to share what I’m discovering, to shape what is to continue unfolding. Oh yeah, and my Angel card from this year’s Burning Bowl? LIGHT.
Thank you for being here 🤍 I’m excited to continue sharing my Reclamation journey with you.
So relatable- the need for space and rest, then filling that space with stimulation. Slowing down is hard! This is so small- and lovely- there are a couple typos.. and this is genuinely not a criticism or gotcha.. to me it slows a level of letting the piece flow and be— not hyper-attuning to perfection. Go you!
Wow, yes! Mirrors so much of my own experience with social media, and chronic pain. Thank you for sharing this, may we each experience 3 dimensional lives rich with connection!