Confirmation Biases

I got to know a lot about my own righteousness during the pandemic. It is incredible! I have a strong view on where I got covid, why, and how… What vaccines and masks do… It's an informed idea to some extent but sometimes I act very certain even though no one really knows what’s going on. That’s why there are ongoing studies and new treatments.

It’s partially to feel safe and secure in an insecure condition like the pandemic. I’m glad reasoning is available to convince myself that I know something when I don’t. Delusional? Yes. Comforting? Yes, to some point. I see something similar when transgender anything comes up. Lots of people act like they are biologists or sociologists. Human biology, gender and sexuality are more complex than we might imagine. No one still does not know how the human brain functions, yet I still see many people, including myself, using biology or science to push individual biases onto others. That’s an old trick that certain religious groups have done with “God” for a long time. I find it boring in 2022. We’ve been there done that.   

I often confuse myself with what is happening during my transition. There are many labels that I could be put on. AMAB, MTF, trans woman, trans femme… I am not hiding that I have a penis, or trying to deceive that I have vagina (I could get one after going through lots of gatekeeping). AND I am a woman. Someone has commented on my IG that I was not a “real'' woman. Ok… sure. I am not trying to convey that I am cis woman. I’m a happily openly trans woman. (Also I don’t have time for lecturing gender 101 to TERFs.) I was mis-assigned at birth as a man. Trans women are not cis women but women nonetheless. When anyone tries to pass as cis is mostly because of violence and oppression. TBH it is pure luck that the doctor could possibly assign a baby’s gender and get it right. Let alone that it gets malicious and violent for people with intersex condition. I was born a woman, and I had penis. That’s all. These facts do not have to contradict each other. However it does because collectively society hates trans people. 

No trans people will just start claiming whatever they want as their identity. Again it is shit living as trans because of the oppression from transphobia (internalized or not), even when I KNOW that it is fucking joyous. I’d like to assure non-trans people that transitioning is not like what you imagine. AT ALL. It is not what I wish or desire. It is a fulfillment of what was denied of me at birth. If you are not trans, you don’t know. That's why you aren’t trans.

I’ve talked to enough friends about my transition and thank goodness for their support. I have noticed that people think transition is stressful, and so did I. However, transition is not stressful. It is insightful and joyous. What is stressful is the external condition that lacks education in gender and sexuality despite all the studies that’s out there. It’s nice to know that some people also think what I do is courageous or inspiring. But if they have any empathy and compassion for the TGNC community, I would rather know their stories about gender. I want cis people (even gay and lesbian) to reflect on how their gender, sexuality, biases, privileges, patriarchy, (trans)misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia have had effects on their life.

And please stop doubting kids ability to know. Kids are fucking wise (not in the adult conceptual rhetoric kind of sense). Please listen to the kids. Also lots of studies done by adults suggest that gender affirming care for trans youth is life saving. People like science until they start to prove what they don’t wanna see. And yes I am like that too. The difference is that I’m trying to live, some are trying to deny my humanity.  

Pronoun, proximity, violence

As my transition went on, I’ve decided to focus on how I feel internally even though internal and external do not have a clear boundary. I use she/they pronouns, identifying as trans femme. My gender expression is pretty gender neutral, so people would often perceive me as a man. It’s weird because many people perceived me as not masculine enough when I was misguided that I was a gaysian man. Asian men are often not masculine enough in the white centric norm unless you are Bruce Lee. Now I know that I am a woman, I am not feminine enough. This is clearly not about me. This is about how society would perceive me. I will never be woman enough for some, or worse I will be a possible threat to their cis hetero normativity, which could lead to many forms of violence. 

I took a self-defense course and learned that the condition of being physically attacked involves three components.

1. Ability — Do they have the ability to harm you?

2. Proximity — Are they in the distance to be able to harm you?

3. Intent — Do they have intention to harm you?

All three components have to be present when physical violence happens. A child might be in proximity and have intent to hurt me but not the ability. Someone might have the ability and intent to hurt me but they are miles away. 

I think these can be applied to non-physical attacks. Ability and intent can be easily applied to mental/emotional violence. Proximity can be seen as how close to the individual in a relationship though harder to measure. A family member could more likely hurt me mentally and emotionally than a stranger. Internet trolls could harm a person but that's a more complex process of their voice being internalized. Once internalized, the emotional proximity is extremely close, ourselves. At the same time, if I am careful of internalization, a stranger misgendering does not cause that much harm because of the relational distance with whoever misgenders me. Granted, accumulated microaggression is oppressive. And using correct pronouns will save lives.

There was a time I was being misgendered in rehearsal space over and over. Or people would just use my short name, Kei, instead of my pronoun. I felt frustrated when nothing had changed after I reported to the management. Cis gender people have ability to harm trans people. In this instance, I felt close enough to my colleagues so them misgendering me hurt a moderate amount. But I didn’t think anyone had malicious intent to hurt me. Then how would I convey them to be careful with my pronouns?

Transition for me has been the process of unlearning. Unlearning who everyone else told me I was. Unlearning what gender is. Unlearning what women mean. It requires much patience, safety, and protection to unlearn. I cannot survive without unlearning all the entanglement of gender. Cis people do not have to do that, but I am asking them to unlearn what they know about gender by being around them. Despite the anger and frustration I felt, how could there be safety and protection for cis people to unlearn gender in this intense political climate? It is not my duty to educate them or provide them with protection, then what is the best way to reach out to them? I asked for their help. Help my wellbeing by gendering me correctly and chime in when others forget. Asking for help has been a great lesson for me because there is no way to live alone with my social location in the US. Immigrant, Asian, trans femme. I will never survive alone. And nor could any human beings. The closer you are to the dominant power, the easier it is to pretend that you could. The power of the oppressed is the proximity to reality. The oppressed are closer to the nature of change and vulnerability. Wisdom and care is soft strength. Delusion of power that enables temporary control is in the end hindrance for the peace we all might long for deep down in our hearts.

Medicated

I have dealt with depression as early as 13. No, I was not treated at all. I just remembered and put the information together in my 30s through therapy, meditation, performing, reading… I was finally diagnosed with depression and anxiety at 31. It was official! I have thought of many reasons that could have contributed to the condition. The birth defect and the surgeries. Separation from my parents by hospital mishap. Confusion around gender. My family’s financial instability. Trauma passed through generations. And the mind I inherited might be simply inclined for depression. Trying to make sense of it all could lead to more confusion. Maybe I will never know and it’s better that way. I’d like to know just enough for me to be able to care. 

I heard Sayadaw U Tejaniya talk about depression and how it is in the realm of aversion. And aversion is always accompanied by delusion. This resonated with me. When I’m in a dark place of depression, it feels like tension, dislike, pressure, dark, narrow, disassociation, out of body, hard, stuck… 

I have managed my depression somewhat ever since I started continuous and intensive practice and therapy. I tried medication but did not seem to be working so I stopped 6 months in. I “managed.” The depression was simply kept at bay and I knew that. It would lurk from time to time. And with the transition, it blew up again. Not with transition, it blew up because I had to go through transmisogyny and oppositional sexism in everyday life. I was conscious of it now, and that is why. The theater industry is slow due to Covid, and now I was struggling to find jobs and audition in women’s calls. I still show up and slay it in my heels and sports bra. I don’t think transition is intense. Violence is in the intensity of society that questions trans and non-binary people to the tea. Doesn’t that violence sound familiar?

I needed medication. 6 years later, I am glad to find something that works for me. I was so baffled by how I got overwhelmed by depression again and again. I knew a lot of tools to manage and be in touch with depression, anxiety, and grief through my intensive practice for 6 years. But it was as if there was no time and space for me to apply any of my knowledge. It just went to the darkest place at full speed. Before I knew it, it was too late to even take a breath. 

In the dark place, I cannot access any of the resources I have. Everything I knew seemed to be helping everyone else but me. I am not in the profession so I am not trying to treat depression of anyone, but I share stories. Medication seems to be helping to slow down the speed of going downhill. I have time to notice and interject where I can. I still find shadows everywhere but I can be aware of that, and really care for the texture to be there. I’m sure different medications work in different ways and for different people, but this is how I’m experiencing the medication this time around. 

Not to be cynical, the truth is that things will go places that we do not want them to go. I’m appreciative of this modified speed to go downhill. I sense the shadow, and I sense the resistance to the unpleasantness. I call up gentleness. That might be enough, but if not, I go take a walk, reach out to my friends, exercise, give a big hug to my partner, play with my dog… And with the extra time and space, I can now see what is actually helpful for me is being in the body. This can be exercise, gentle stretching, dancing… Whatever it is, I make sure to be consistent. This is not to avoid depression — if that’s ever possible —  but to have boundaries to cultivate a manageable relationship with something that can be intense. Again this is not a cure for all, and medication has to be considered with great care. But I had never made an observation of my experience with medication and meditation, so this is a little note.                

New Orgasm

Sexuality and physical intimacy can have a certain intensity that some people might not want to talk about. Lust and sensual desire are often mentioned as obstacles for liberation. Monks and nuns are most likely celibate. At many silent retreats, participants refrain from any sexual activities. I have a total respect for whoever decides to step away completely from anything for their own reasons — sexual activities, intoxicants, certain food types, media, people… I think the baseline is to treat with care when activities involve intensity in some sense, otherwise we all end up in the place of shame, fear, regret, and doubt. AND there’s a place for renunciation all together. This is my attempt to talk about sexuality and physical intimacy with care and humor. I’m an open queer being so I don’t shy away from details. You have been warned! (Just to reiterate that all the changes I have experienced on hormones are very individual and how I have described them is very subjective.) 

I have lived as a sexually active gay man for well over a decade, and experienced fair share of romance, one night stands, relationships, and masturbation. I was not hooking up left and right (which is completely fine if you do), but my sexual desire on testosterone was pretty strong. I would often take care of myself by watching tumblr (until 2018), twitter, and some other NSFW contents online. 

After a few weeks of HRT (hormone replacement therapy), my sex drive went down to almost zero. This is not always the case for everyone but I found that it is often the case from reading Reddit threads. (Also my doctor told me that was normal :) I did not have much to worry about because my husband and I are in an open relationship, and I did not plan to have my biological children. I still love cuddling with him, and he can fulfill his needs elsewhere. I was actually grateful for the lack of my sexual desire because there’s so much to process that I rarely had time or metal space for masturbating or fishing for hookups. I’ve tried to masturbate out of curiosity because I wondered if it still worked. It did although the sensation was different for me. 

• Orgasm came like an intense wave washing over my whole body in and up, not just down and out.

• Intensity used to be very local but now much global. 

But I was not interested at the moment, and it took a lot for me to get to a point of arousal. More than that, wow I really used to masturbate frequently. 

I guess it helped me to have sexual experience as a gay man. I knew that sex, for me, did not have to involve my erection. Of course, it often did, but I knew it did not have to… probably not in the sense that if I were a straight man. That's an important perspective for people on estrogen when orgasm might become not accessible like it used to be on testosterone. (I’m just using these terms for fun but I understand it’s not black and white with hormones or anything) 

It brought much appreciation being queer. My queerness made it easier for me to explore my body and how I am to some extent once I “came out”. I don’t know what it feels like to be cishet, but I’d imagine it would be a greater jump from cishet to trans than from gay to trans with different variables. I’ll never know, considering how individual transition really is. No need to compare but I think about these things.

After 7-8 months on HRT, I started to feel a bump of sexual desire from time to time. I’ve explored a bit on my own and with some folks. Porn does little to nothing for me now, which is new, but I get excited when someone I know sends me a NSFW video. I’ve made a temporary conclusion that I need personal non-physical connection to feel sexual pleasure. I found that I don’t even need to touch my body when I can sense intimacy. When I see a good intimate scene on TV with amazing actors, my lower belly area and spine produce a jolt of electricity and vibration. So fantasy works too. I recall it used to be like this for my first testosterone puberty, then it turned into something else. 

I’ve met someone I really like. I started having mini-jolt when they texted me something really sweet or sexy. Just texting words. No pics. When we finally kissed, I felt a lot of things that I would not have felt just by kissing before. I’m grateful to meet a person like them because it is often not easy to date as a transfemme person even though trans people are statistically amazing ;) It’s fun and new but it is not like I’m 13 again. I know the honeymoon phase and the butterflies of new connection are exciting but fleeting. I’ve felt deep joy from mutual interest  and care in each other — that’s how I married my husband— but my body on estrogen is now capable of feeling something subtle with more intensity. I cannot help but to imagine what if I could relive my puberty with some experience I could not have!?

Relationships are dukkha, but I’m not going to avoid it either. There's a fine balance between being present for the vulnerability and being overwhelmed by it. I do not want to shy away from my new discovery around sense pleasure, nor want to feel shame around it. I have been there since the first puberty. It did not go down well. I see that the sense pleasure is like a bait for wanting, fear, and doubt to appear with resistance as a notification. PING! And I want to bring a sense of awareness and loving-kindness to the resistance, wanting, fear and doubt as well as pleasantness itself. Because it is joyful for me to feel sensuality on estrogen. I feel lucky to be in the condition that allows me to do so. And actually it gives me the opportunities to build different relationships with wanting, fear, and doubt, which can bring subtle calmness even though I’m not pushing myself to connect for some kind of imagined liberation. 

I would like relationships (romantic or not) that I encounter to be based on autonomy, gentleness, and flexibility, yet I keep finding myself wanting to solidify and label what and how I’m relating to my husband and other possible lover friend partners, whatever the label might be. I find that part of human nature so endearing and fascinating because it’s trying to construct familiarity for security. Sometimes that’s all I can see… thoughts after thoughts. Association. Reasoning. Expectation. I promise I’m not high but the mind is wild, and seeing that from time to time inspires me to practice.

Taking Refuge in Beauty

I was taught Vipassana (clear seeing) and Brahma Viharas (beautiful qualities of mind) practice simultaneously. They are separate practices but not mutually exclusive. Vipassana would be the kind of practice that’s more oriented towards simple — yet not easy— observation, cultivating awareness and wisdom. Brahma Viharas are cultivation of loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy (sympathetic joy), and equanimity. Of course, these practices go into much depth that I am not capable of explaining in words.

“Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. And between the two my life flows.”

― Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

This quote captures how my teachers teach. I had learned and practiced intensively for a few years before I started my transition. (Not that I knew that was gonna happen.) These practices quickly became an important part of my life, yet it was not survival. They added a different layer in my life that nurtured me deeply.

Not all 4 Brahma Viharas practices are often offered in the mainstream. Loving-kindness tends to outweigh all the others, and compassion might come up more recently. It is not that we should practice all 4 all together… and loving-kindness is the foundation of all Brahma Viharas. Steven said they are like 4 close sisters. When you practice one, you are practicing the other 3. AND I personally find it easier to practice compassion. I appreciate them offering a wider spectrum because it might be difficult to find a gateway for someone. These are very brief descriptions I have heard.

• Loving-kindness (metta) — Unconditional love, gentleness, tenderness, friendliness

• Compassion (karuna) — Caring for one’s pain with wisdom

• Appreciative joy (mudita) — Attunement to one’s success and joy

• Equanimity (upekkha) — Mental equipoise, evenness, peace

Other than the phrases we often hear — May I (you) be well, happy, peaceful — I was taught a few different ways to practice.

• Simply tuning into the direct sensation of tenderness, vibration of heart towards pain, gladdening, and evenness through 6 sense doors (5 bodily senses and mind).

• Using the imagery in the mind that might invoke those beautiful states of mind: people you love, pets, your favorite place, or even a stuffed animal.

The essence of all approaches is to call up the quality and radiate outward in all directions like a lantern. When I think of unconditional love, I fantasize this grandiose vivid sensation that oozes out of my heart. That could be the case, but more often I feel sensations as subtle as gentle breeze or misty rain. I appreciated these practices but it was supplemental to be aware.

During transitions, I have found it harder to find sustainable beauty about myself. Changes in perspectives and how I navigate the world causes lots of doubts. My gender dysphoria would last longer than gender euphoria. I look out in the media and what I am does not fit most of the beauty standards. I try to audition and never feel like I’m what they are looking for. The same with dating. Granted that it was not easy to begin with as a queer Asian in the US. I am not asking for a pity party because I know my own beauty. I just forget… quite often.

It is true that I do not have control over how anyone perceives me, but trans misogyny is no joke. Often outside support — therapy, friends, exercise, dance, singing, drawing, binge watching, food, medication, drinking, weed — alleviates the intensity only briefly, which might be all I need at the moment. These tactics used to be enough for me to navigate hardships in life.

Now the internalized transphobia and self-hatred override external support. When I find myself in despair, depression, and doubt, none of those tactics seem to work… until I remember to practice caring for my own pain in a non-conceptual way, which is Brahma Viharas. This worked before transition in an extremely intense situation but those moments were occasional. To be honest, in the midst of struggle, I would not believe that calling up the caring quality of the mind would work. No, but it comes naturally when it comes. It’s like Sailor Moon that somehow magically runs into the situation. It just appears.

To trust that will happen, I need to cultivate the qualities continuously without expectation. While I establish my new identity as trans, I want to take this opportunity to learn how to trust the ephemeral nature of beauty without trying to solidify or grasp onto the idea of identity.

Privilege and Freedom

When I speak out in the DEI space — this tends to happen more and more as I transition — I try to remind myself the 3 characteristics of existence in Buddhism:

1. everything is changing (anicca)

2. everyone is vulnerable to change (dukkha)

3. nothing exists on its own. (anattā) 

I often start conversations with where things are for me and people around at the time, and where we need to go in my opinion.

For example, all gender dressing rooms in the theater. I would list all the reasons for why it’s often separated by binary gender system (even if it’s bs in my view) and have an understanding (again even if it’s bs in my view). It’s not difficult to list them when I think of cisgender privileges that I experienced in the past. (Was it actually privileges for me is another topic.) Then I would ask for specific changes that need to happen for achieving an all gender dressing room… It might not look like achieving the goal right away but hopefully eventually.

I try not to minimize or compare the stress or pain that cis people are feeling, because pain is pain. Oppression competition drives me to madness. At the same time I do not minimize my own pain in the face of transphobia and oppositional sexism. As I pay attention and care for cis people’s pain (not cuddling but actually just knowing the pain is pain), I do point out how their needs are often prioritized. 

ALOK said in a podcast interview:

 “The reason you [cis people] don't fight for me [TGNB] is because you're not fighting for yourself fully.” 

From the place of care, I ask cis people to think how they could fight not for trans people but for themselves. Because transphobia is not trans people’s issue but cis people’s issue, fighting against transphobia in any capacity could lead to fighting against patriarchy, misogyny, and capitalism that serve no one. (It might benefit some but never serve anyone.) This connection has to come from the individual experience and understanding. I also add that this is a big ask for cis people to reflect and take action because they do not have to do this, sitting on cis privileges. (I know because I identified as cis until a few years ago.) But is cis privilege really a privilege? Or is it a prison that harms others and essentially harms themselves? I try to ask myself the question someone asked… Bell Hooks or Alook? Audre Lorde? I forgot… (probably all of them.) 

Am I doing this to get myself more privilege, or am I doing this for liberation?

At the end of the day, everything I’ve written so far is dukkha. The word originally means… wobbly wheel, unstable. There's a sticky grip even to identify as transgender even though it might be necessary at times. There’s relentlessness to the consistent effort to carry out any processes when there are expected outcomes, even for social justice. That’s why I keep asking the question above over and over in many conversations and meditation practice.

OK then all identifications are bad? - No, in my opinion.

Should we not advocate for equity and inclusion? - Of course, we must.

Should I not cling to anything? - Mmmm, hopefully not but I wonder I have that much control.

I’m just very careful of the “ultimate truth” that all identifications end up with clinging, which might lead to a type of nihilism or false optimism. I think “truth” is more nuanced, layered, and complex.

Identification, association, intellectualizing… give me enough solidity in the world that’s moving faster than I could ever comprehend. Race and gender theory expands my lack of perception. Me identifying as transgender is a form of attachment that gives me comfort and belonging when my identification as a man is dissolving.

Unlearning is painful and overwhelmingly intense. I’m saying goodbye to a lot that has been there with me for 37 years. How can I go through it but to be kind? And I forget that a lot because of the intensity. Regardless, that's why I practice while I transition.

Positivity Override

I started my medical transition at the age of 37.

Looking at the younger generation in the U.S. where many young trans people can get support and medical care (even though there are MANY anti-trans legislation being written), I cannot help myself but wonder what if I was able to transition much earlier?

This brings a tremendous amount of regret, grief, and anger. Instead of overriding these intense emotions with things like “just be here now,” or “celebrate where you are,” (this might be important when the intensity is unbearable) I really tune into how grief feels in the body and mind. I mean… maybe for 3 seconds.

What is the texture?

I often feel the tension with an almost out-of-body sensation. There is a fragrance of loneliness, which for me is similar to dust and gravel. I sense the tremendous amount of desire for things to be different from tightness of stomach and jaws.

The accompanying thoughts might be something like… I cannot not accept the fact that things went the way it went for me for 37 years, and I cannot face the disappointment of it. I hate feeling l disappointed in myself, family, and upbringing.

What’s happening is not even the grief. It’s the resistance to the grief, and most likely resisting the resistance. Because I shouldn’t be resisting but accepting, right? Pretense. This cycle makes me laugh because I do think so many times.

It was until I could actually sense: “Of course I am sad, angry, and regretful. This sucks and my resistance is valid.” I still feel the intensity of disappointment everyday ,and yet I say yes to the resisting. I apologize to myself for denying all that I am, and wish to take care of myself happily that day. That is loving-kindness practice mixed with compassion and equanimity. 

One important aspect of transition is around attention and perspective. I find myself over and over missing the familiar feeling of oppression living as male. Living as a cis person simply has less obstacles. The habit of 37 years would take time to unlearn.

Every time I would tell people that

“I always wanted to be a woman,”

I really need to check myself and restate (even just to myself)

“I have always been a woman.”

There is no becoming when I am one to begin with. The doctor cannot assign me a gender. And I am not denying the fact that the majority of the world would not  operate in the mind set. Do I fight for it always with every encounter? No. I check in with myself? Yes. To be honest, I don't even know what “women” means.

The idea of women I have seems to be very misogynistic, fat-phobic, and transphobic. (Now as I edit I understand this as mixture of misogyny, trans misogyny, and oppositional sexism) Am I meeting the status quo of capitalist, patriarchic, racist, homophobic, transphobic, ableist bullshit? Probably at many degrees yes, but how can I be aware of places that I can be aware of and redirect those tendencies? This is so confusing and I don’t know how to move forward!!!... there is another doubt again. Doubt often immobilize me, feeling stuck. 

One of my ongoing struggles, for which is worth struggling, is that I have to be one way or the other. Am I trans or am I not? Have I come out to EVERYONE I know? There is a sense that I need to decide or else I am not ___ . Or another road I often take is “it’s not either-or, it’s both.” This is actually helpful sometimes but I’d be very careful with this because this can override everything and basically becomes All Lives Matter. This deceitfully can feel wonderful and expansive. Instead I hope to hold contradictions as paradoxes. This is puzzling and there will be many doubt attacks, but I find it closer to truthfulness. AND sometimes I make a stronger choice to take one side like anti-violence, racism, transphobia. It is NOT always both when we live in an oppressive society.

How to Be with Loneliness

Transition has come with loneliness for me. It feels l am the only one who’s going through this wild shit rollercoaster. Of course, there are communities and it’s not like I have no friends. It’s just that when I look externally for validation it is difficult to find someone who might mirror my core identities: trans femme, immigrant, Asian, working class… I appreciate trans folks who might be wyte out there, AND I do get weary. 

I have had thoughts about the hyper-visibility of trans women in the media. I don’t wanna be sensational. Are there unsensational trans women? I’d like to be sensational internally, please. (I do not have issues with gorgeous sensational trans women out there! I also am working on feeling beautiful because partly it is my internalized transphobia.) Is not pursuing glamor my internalized transphobia or it’s just who I am? 

It felt like I was back in the closet, and HRT made sure to feel like the time during puberty when I was alone struggling with who I was. Why am I back here?! I thought I was done out as a gay man… but I knew I did not fit in there. The rainbow was too bright for me. The wyte cis normativity in gay culture was toxic for my Japanese upbringing. I used to reason myself with being an introvert; I even went to queer introvert gatherings. It never dawned on me that I was trans… Am I? What was all those years as a gay man? Doubts again. But I see a glimpse of loneliness in it. Then how would I build a relationship with loneliness…? Loneliness is for everyone, trans or otherwise.  I will continue connecting with loneliness until the body dies, I’d imagine. 

Mindfulness is not a rocket science; it’s rather simplistic and could sound cliche depending on how it’s framed. The best way to understand loneliness for me is by being with it. LMAO. We are not taught just to be with things! We are taught to progress and be efficient. This is a learning curve for me and continues to be considering the state of the world. 

How could I call up gentleness in the process both externally and internally?

First and at most, I made sure that I had friends or someone I could talk to. I was privileged to have resources for health insurance and find a therapist. I am not saying my friendship amongst other trans people is like therapy, but it seems more connected. Maybe I don’t talk to them everyday but I make sure to check in with each other from time to time with more commitment to show up. Often the world gives us cold shoulders. Being able to talk about anything without burdening myself to over-explain the situation is a huge relief. 

I’ve facilitated different affinity groups for mindfulness. One was a 4-week course for trans and GNC folks and the other was a 8-week MBSR course for the BIPOC community. Some participants expressed that they did not know they needed the space. They had joined the cohort because of their time availability, not the affinity group. In both cohorts, I felt safe and tender holding the space. It is not to say I will never engage with someone who does not share the oppression. I’m trying to convey that both mindfulness and transition are very tender and vulnerable processes that sometimes require extra safety and support, so that we all can go out in society that’s often racist and transphobic. 

Hair Hair

Hair length does not have gender, but growing up I was not allowed to have my hair long because that’s not what “boys” do, or maybe it was financially cheaper to have a buzz cut. (It was pretty tight financially for my parents). I’m not sure anymore. It’s been over 3 decades since I imagined myself having long luxurious hair just like the lady in a shampoo commercial. 

My dream came true when I went to a salon to get my weaves with my girlfriend. Chatting. Laughing. Nervous. My dream came true: going to a hair salon with my girl! When my hair was done, I felt something that was familiar. My friend took me for a walk outside. It felt like when I wanted to kill myself. Narrow, oppressive, closed, heavy, shaky…self-hatred to put it in a simpler term. But now, It wasn’t the past when I didn’t have supportive adults anymore. I had a friend beside me comforting my traumatic response to having long hair, just sobbing on the street. She just held my hand and told me that she was proud of me. I’m forever grateful. 

I’ve finally got my hair, but I kept seeing myself through internalized transphobic lenses. I felt ugly. I projected that people around me would think that too. But then a houseless person asked me…

“Miss, can I have a dollar? Oh sir.”

Werk. The hair works. It’s so binary and stupid, but at the moment I felt good. I wish I had some cash. 

My attention was so close to myself that it felt out of body. I tried to call up on compassion. I don’t know if it came. But I found myself accepting others more on stage. Oh, I ran to my Broadway show after the salon, no time to process because of capitalism that keeps us working. I felt open and did not know which was my emotion and which was a song as I performed on stage. I cried in the shadows and openly throughout the performance. Didn’t Buddha say that the proximate cause for compassion was overwhelm in the face of suffering? Maybe that was that, or just vibration of the base and drum. 

I fear sometimes that someone is gonna come and kill me, if I do something wrong. In my head I was definitely doing something wrong, having long hair, but no one came to kill me. That might actually happen along the way though… unfortunately. Let’s get real. How many trans women gets murdered every year! 

In the end of the day, it was catastrophic and too much for me. My friend took them out. I felt free. Free of the particular trauma. I had long hair and I was safe. I asked my friend to take them out, and now I’m back. Back to my awkward fades, barely ponytail. But different because I chose this. No one told me to. I did. 

I hope you can see that I carried on with cultivating my own worthiness. It is a big part of Vipassana practice that I learned. Worthy of loving, being loved, and claiming my identity. As a person who believed that I was not worthy of even a suicide, I started to doubt that I might kill myself when I actually felt worthy. If it was true that worthlessness saved me, would that be the case? I called Jesse and he said not likely…  I appreciated that. It did stop me to kill myself though the relationship was super unhealthy. Now brahma viharas have become really a necessary practice for survival for me.

I Don’t Wanna Sing That.

I was in a private singing lesson, working on my audition book. The teacher was wonderful and we made much progress despite everything being on Zoom, but there had been some blocks that we could not quite resolve. She felt like I was not taking her feedback as well as before. Singing lessons can be like therapy for me. It touches the tender part of my heart… and my heart was filled with sadness and anger for a couple weeks while singing. I did not know why. Maybe cabin fever from lockdown!? 

There was a moment in a lesson that I realized I did not want to sing these songs anymore because I was not a man. I was singing “Something Is Coming” from West Side Story. Many songs are gendered binarily. Of course, we all can interpret any song in any ways we want, but it was critical for me to stop and reassess what I was perpetuating in my psyche by keeping singing those songs. Those songs — plus dance, aesthetic, people I know, age, acting — would get a job and make a living. I’ve done it for over 15 years. Now, should I just be singing “I Feel Pretty” instead?

I realized that I had much to unpack.

I broke up with the teacher, and started to see another teacher whose research was on transgender voice. I even broke up with my therapist of 5 years to seek therapist who was transgender. This sounds liberating or abrupt, and yes, it was. I had a realization of who I was and made decisions that align with my truth! Sounds great and courageous but it’s not like that.

Deeper truth was that liberation is scary. I did not realize how much of my identity was solidified around binary gender. Making all those moves for transition made my life groundless and unstable, which is actually closer to the falling away nature of everything, anica. I had known a small taste of that in my practice. Also how vulnerable I really was, dukkha. It’s overwhelming. It is still overwhelming and unpleasant, but I can navigate — if necessary crawling — somehow to take care of myself, laughing a little that there was no core identity anywhere to be found, anata. This notion of “not me, not mine, not I” in Buddhism and mindfulness is known as “non-self.” Practice actually has started to deconstruct my identity as it does.

What might be different particularly as a transgender person is that there was no sense of core self to begin with. It was hollow because I kept pretending most of my life to be a man. The shell was hard but once that was broken it was a gooey mess.

Then how does the process of liberation happen with the gooey instability? I don’t know how cis people are but I’d imagine they would have a core identity that’s a little more solid. Working with solid things and gooey things are very different. Don’t get me wrong. There are many other identities for me: dancer, partner, friend, artist… but the crack was big enough to shake all of them. I needed to reclaim my identity after the insights deconstructed it.

I am still in the process of cultivating womanhood that is not based on white-supremacist capitalist patriarchy which is homophobic and transphobic. I’d say this is a lifetime project along with liberation practice. 

Transcendent Time 

I thought I was almost 40, 

still playing a high school kid on stage. 

I’m taking time travel pills. 

My body says tick tock. 

Taking me neither forward nor backward… 

just upward, downward, and scribbles. 

Taking me to my birth, 4, 10, 14, 18 years old. 

The time has been blur 

since I compromised as a boy as a gay man.

I wonder if trauma keeps your appearance frozen, 

held in the prison of pain. 

That might be my skincare.

Thick walls not to feel the pain. 

Crack crack crack. 

Water seeping out. 

I miss my uncracked wall. 

Wasn’t it so comfortable? 

Not really, 

but it sure felt like it.

Accidentally I came out of the wall with my time travel. 

Only for a second. 

The second was long enough to see it through. 

What I was told. 

What I became afraid of. 

What they told me to be. 

I was back, 

but the wall had already started to crack 

because I understood. 

The wall crumbles. 

Sadness, grief, disappointment, joy, all came out together. 

They came and went, came and went.

Again here they come. 

Can I travel with you? 

Can I fade into the deep dark sky?

Distraction as Protection

**Trigger Warning** This piece discusses suicide and suicidal ideation, and some people might find it disturbing.

I would like to make sure that I convey this point again in a nuanced way. Controlling, manipulation, and distraction are not the enemy or “wrong” refuge. Those are, too, nature. My teachers would often call them “protection.” Maybe it is not so wholesome at times, but protection regardless. I have heard it like this in different occasion from Jesse, Michele, and Jake:

Mindfulness is the intention to understand rather than to judge it. It applies to all sounds, body sensations, emotions and thoughts whether they are pleasant, unpleasant, neutral. Maybe a sense of solid self is protecting us to feel a little bit secure from the truth of impermanence. The human experiences through body and heart-mind is bonkers: every moment is falling away faster than we can comprehend. That must be overwhelming. Then it is natural for the mind to be distracted, bored, or doubtful. Instead of yanking the attention back to the anchor, can we feel the texture of “lostness” instead? Maybe even a little loving-kindness to the distracting thought itself. If that’s not possible, it's completely ok to ground ourselves with anchors. Neither practice is better than the other. 

What would I have done if I did not distract myself and pretend that I was a boy? I don’t think the environment I was in growing up was supportive of any queer kids. Maybe it was. I say this because of the amount of internalized transphobia that I am unlearning now.

Who am I to judge pretending, distraction, or addiction, are “bad” and not supportive? At the same time, it is true that those attitudes and behaviors would likely have harmful tendencies. They often carry a certain amount of intensity. But I truly think that my self-hatred spared my life even though perfectionism and self-hatred itself led to my suicidal ideation to begin with… that’s a another conversation leading to the colonizing, capitalist, patriotic, racist, homophobic, transphobic society. 

Vmmmm

Just as the sound of base vibrates underneath all, 

my heart quivered. 

You may call it compassion 

but it didn’t feel like the warm fuzzy saying that gets you a thousand likes.

It came with pain. 

The pain that’s so familiar and painful that had almost killed me 

and saved me at the same time. 

I used to think that I didn’t deserve even a suicide. 

Worthlessness and loneliness were my friends. 

Hatred in me was so strong that it made me question… 

Why would I think I could end my life on my terms? 

I’m not worthy. 

That much self-hatred had somehow saved me. 

Or maybe it didn’t. 

It was in the past.

So I thought. 

But my body remembered the darkness and its weight. 

My brain caught up that it’s happening right now again. 

I started to weep on the street. 

I felt warmness in my hand. 

For the first time in the face of overwhelm, 

my heart chimed in with the low vibration that held everything. 

Brain caught it and said… 

I wish I didn’t have to feel this. 

I care for my pain. 

Vmmmm. 

I looked around for the first time in hours. 

Human life is filled with struggles, ignorance, pain…. 

It’s so hard. 

Vmmmmmmmm. 

I didn’t know what I felt was the vibration of the music blasting or the heart trembling. 

Who’s emotion is this? Yours? Mine? 

Because the borders the brain creates separate 

me and you, 

inside and outside, 

body and mind, 

private and public, 

life and death… 

Conceptual borders to keep us safe 

How I look in the mirror and how my body feels when I close my eyes are nothing alike but the same. 

That’s confusing 

Yeah. 

I hate the oneness. 

It’s unreliable. 

Vmmmmmmmmmmmm. 

Resting on the heart’s vibration, 

I continued being overwhelmed. 

It’s so hard. 

Hard for you, me, and us. 

Let me weep in front of strangers. 

Let me feel the pain and shout on the street. 

So that we all can understand… 

It’s so hard to be human. 

Maybe then we can care for each other. 

Because pain, struggle, tears, joy, boredom, anxiety, 

everything is worthy of our attention.

The worthwhile question my teachers often ask is, “What would be the healthy distraction instead of the harmful ones?” Healthy meaning less charged, less intense. My teachers suggested having tea, walking outside, aimlessly gazing out the window… With that space I started to notice what I’m dealing with is not distraction itself but the resistance to the distracted mind. 

I started to have faith that I might be worthy, and so is every being.   

Dance, Identity and Buddhist non-self.

One of my teachers, Michele McDonald, really meant it…

When the heart is open it is open to a wide range of joy and sorrow. We cannot pick and choose what the heart is opening to…

As I started my gender affirming hormone therapy, my heart was open all right — a roller coaster with hormone balance changing. I take this as a heart opening because I am accepting the formally repressed desire to transition. I was willing to do something that I would have never done or imagined before. I felt the body changing as if I was in my 2nd puberty. My body shape changed not to mention the emotion rushing over me out of blue. I would be crying without much conceptual reasons, sometimes joyful, the other sorrowful. There are often times with much restlessness or sleepiness. 

It has gotten noticeably harder and harder to practice formally. This is not the first time I could not sit or practice formally. The last time was tremendous aversion from my perfectionist tendencies about practice itself after my first 3 week silent retreat and ordination in Burma. I did more walking meditation then. For this time, I instead leaned onto the aspiration to be aware from the moment I woke up till I fell asleep with a light and relaxed attitude. That was what Steven said during the retreat. Continuity of practice. Of course, it has a different flavor outside of the retreat setting. Busier to put it simply, especially in NYC. I might sit for 1 min, 45 min, or 10 sec. It is difficult to be ok with not meeting my own expectations, but I knew that if I push, I’d be cultivating aversion. I was not going to add the fuel to the surfacing internalized transphobia. All of this resulted in low energy, both mentally and physically without much testosterone in my body. I just could not do much. 

Transitioning during lockdown was one thing but I had to eventually get outside. And the shit got real like the next level with socializing in person. Not being able to see myself good or beautiful sprung up when I danced with my friend in a studio, and it strongly hindered my learning skill. There were 8-10 other dancers, BIPOC, friendly and queer. When she divided the group into men and women, she asked me which group I wanted to be in — that was the first time anyone asked me that. I picked the women's side. As we learned the choreography, my mind was occupied by thoughts about how fake I was and I didn’t belong in the group. Every time I looked in the mirror, I wondered why I was so unattractive. They were the real women and not me. I was clearly not picking up  choreography because I was preoccupied by self-doubts, judgements, jealousy, fear, and hatred.

The doll test originally conducted by psychologists Kenneth and Mamie Clark in the 1940s hovered over me as I saw myself judge harshly myself and other trans femme folks. And there's the “Blue eyes/Brown eyes" exercise by Jane Elliot. How dominant culture influences our perception of ourselves is scary especially when I am clearly not White, cishet, upper-middle class, person… I acknowledge that everyone no matter their social location goes through hell in this world because oppression oppresses both the oppressor and oppressed, as Paulo Freire explained, but people in the dominant group do not go through the same oppression as the oppressed.

As a yogi and professional dancer, I was able to recognize the pain in the studio because dancing brought in general awareness and concentration. Dance enhances the connection between the body and mind for me. It can definitely be a form of concentration practice if done in a certain way. It would keep the mental discomfort at bay or magnify it. At this time, it was going back and forth between both. After the studio time was over, I cried my guts out on my friend’s shoulder outside on the street. I felt like shit and ugly. One thing I was good at, dance, stopped offering me self-confidence. There was no way to offer myself loving-kindness or compassion. Instead my friend was there holding me. This was not fun, but I would have never known my deep identification as a man.

I did not know how much of how I moved was oriented towards masculinity. It’s understandable that Asian men in the US struggle with their masculinity because Asian men are often biased as not masculine in the sense of White centric world. I remember the owner of a prestigious dance studio in L.A., White, cis and gay, telling me that I was great and I needed to dance more masculine. That was the reason I did not get their scholarship. When I started to learn how to move with masculinity, I booked jobs at the Met Opera, dance companies, on Broadway… My internalized homophobia and transphobia were rewarded. Without my transition, I would have said something like “movement is genderless.” In the studio, I tried to convince myself of that, but it really was not possible. I noticed that even taking a step had the imprint of binary gender. We all might be dictated by binary gender more than we know.

“Be whoever you are!” “Be yourself!” “You can be whoever you want to be!” These are not wrong. They are partially correct and can be inspiring in some cases. But what if whoever I am was not accepted in transphobic society. What if people mocked, bullied, discriminated, and erased who I am knowingly or unknowingly. How can I exist as whoever I am? Don’t get me wrong. I still do exist and propel forward. BUT these naïve “ultimate truth” without considering the actual social complexity in 2021 is harmful and cruel AF. 

On the other note, the sense of overriding doubts and overwhelming pain is sometimes necessary, especially in meditation practice by anchoring or loving-kindness and compassion practice to build stability and safety. AND I must say that overriding unpleasant or neutral things like that comes with an aspect of aversion and delusion. What was happening to me in the studio was resisting the resistance against my own internalized transphobia. 

1. I hated how I felt in the femme centered space.

2. I noticed my internalized transphobia.

3. I hated that I still had this sense of shame for my femininity.

Usually in meditation practice, I touched the surface of pain, and I retreated from it. For example, sensing the tightness and swirl of overwhelm for 3 seconds, and direct attention to hearing or sending loving-kindness to the overwhelm itself. I do this over and over. I was doing this back and forth while dancing. I can gear myself toward retreating more with an itch when I’m meditating in a contained environment, but this was out in the open with other people. The intensity started to build and I went into the classic aversion spiral — resisting the resistance. What was happening was resisting. Those judgemental transphobic thoughts and their unpleasantness had already passed. 

It’s not like I can face the resistance fully during meditation, and that is ok. I just switch out by carrying on with daily life: work, errands, eating, Instagram… by doing so I learned to appreciate how my system tries to protect myself from vulnerability even when the protection is addictive, controlling, and distractive; that was the only form of protection I had until I learned to meditate. One of the biggest learnings from Jesse has been that human experience through 6 sense-doors (5 bodily senses and mind) is bonkers and overwhelming. How could I face the destabilizing reality of there’s no core sense of who I am without care!? This kind of realization happened in the retreat setting, but it started to happen in daily life with my transition. Many of my identities with manhood (son, husband, brother, uncle, dog dad, boyfriend, gay…) just dissolved. This definitely was not what I expected. It’s fucking unnerving. Being able to avoid it is a privilege because the sense of dissolving my identity has been very shitty, rarely liberating. There’s something liberating to it for sure, but it’s scary for me.

All I Have Really Wanted

During lock down with the Broadway shutting down, I dedicated much time to practice. Uncertainty seemed like a common thread for all. First I tried my usual striving for perfection because I finally had all the time I needed that I didn’t have for an 8-shows-a-week-schedule (now no job), but soon enough I figured it was no use striving during a lockdown. It was time to rest.

Fortunately, I had aspirations for practice, resources, unemployment benefits, a partner, and a community to support that. On self-retreats, unlike my regular self, I start not following the schedule and letting myself lie down during many sits (the perks of at home self retreat). This finally relaxed my overachiever tendencies… just slightly. TBH I could not bring myself to sit with low energy and anxiety. I told my teachers what I was doing, expecting that they might tell me to practice more. On the contrary, they were glad that I was figuring out how to practice. They didn’t accuse me of not sitting or following the schedule. They respected my autonomy. No one had done that for me. Not even myself. Without me controlling, the experience still happened.

I heard Michele saying it like this:

Practice is a process of opening and closing like a flower. When we are open we are open to all experiences that are pleasant, unpleasant, neutral; we are open to the range of joy and sorrow. When we are closed, we are protected from sorrow but also closed off from joy. We cannot really pick and choose… Joy and sorrows and everything in between, all are worthy of paying attention. The amount of control that I might want to have… that much of control is pure violence. We actually would not want to have that much dominance over ourselves or anyone. 

I knew this was true. My life has been a series of violent control from others, society, and myself that portrayed capitalism, patriarchy, racism, homophobia, and transphobia. During the lockdown without much contact from the outside world, I started to remember how I was. One important part was that I was a trans woman.

At one of the self-retreats I realized that I was afraid to be a woman. The obvious violence of misogyny and yet my desire to be a woman aligned with patriarchy scared me. I saw a glimpse of the cause of my avoidance to claim to be a woman. I felt angry. The anger gave me energy to explore what it meant to be a woman. A trans woman. The cruelty that happens in transphobia is despicable. The external cruelty might be hard to deal with, but at least I have committed to unlearn my internalized transphobia that violated my own existence from inside for over 3 decades.

That was the start of my medical transition. I steadily gathered the information about GAHT/ HRT because I wanted to offer myself something that I had always wanted and did not know how to. After years of denial, I had not known how NOT to be cruel to be myself, knotted by childhood trauma and self-hatred. Hormone therapy was the first gift that fulfilled my deepest longing. It was just for me. Not the pill itself, but the act of offering myself something meaningful brought me a sense of friendliness towards myself, metta. 

Once I decided to proceed, there was no stopping. BUT it was not as easy to find a trustworthy medical provider even in NYC with the complication of the American health insurance system. Some medical providers claimed that they offered transgender medical care when they did not. Some did but their procedure was not up to WPATH’s standard of care. Wanting, aversion, and restlessness increased during the waiting period, on the other hand, the worthiness that I felt from intention to transition was something I had never experienced.

Pretending to be O.K.

**Trigger Warning** This piece discusses suicide and suicidal ideation, and some people might find it disturbing.

The repeated theme in my practice had been control and worthlessness. I remember crying on the first silent retreat in 2018 because I realized that I could not even observe breathing without trying to control how I breathed. It came to me as a surprise that the most fundamental thing to live—breathing — I could not let it happen as it was. (Additional shame for being a professional performer. Breathing is the foundation! ) Worthlessness washed over me with doubts as I sat in the meditation hall, but I would hunker down to finish it as music from a nearby village enhanced. It makes me laugh that I was controlling so hard not to control. In 2022, I would only try to observe one or two breaths and am joyous if that even happens. Michele often says lowering the expectation :-)

I guess that excessive controlling tendency was there partly because I had lived to control my identity to fit in. That’s one of many causes that I can think of. I would not have been able to live safely in the condition I was in as a queer kid in Japan. My 4th grade teacher called my mom because she was concerned that I might get bullied for hanging out only with girls… I don’t remember explicitly being bullied but I was afraid that I might. My parents let me be who I was but it was not enough in the environment that I might have gotten bullied just because I played with girls. I needed more encouragement and protection from adults around me. It hardened my heart, yet I still remember longing to be kind. Just to be kind. That was all. There was a glimmer of goodness. Then I clung on to that, and it turned out to be manipulation. I just felt like a control-freak, and maybe I was, and still am.

I have learned through practice that those “negative” traits were mere protections. They protected me to make me feel safe even though there was a price to pay later. I was in survival mode constantly. The worthlessness I had felt took a critical part in my suicidal ideation as a form of protection. Basically I did not carry on with it because I thought I did not deserve even a suicide; I was not worthy of ending my life. Worthlessness saved my life. But what would be the price of that much self-hatred!? I hardly trust myself. Maybe it’s the internalized version of the dominant force that has denied all that I am. I’m not sure any more. To carry on with my life, perfectionism became my vehicle. I overachieved in school and look at me now on Broadway while still being miserable pretending. The worst part was that I didn't even know that I was pretending.

In All Good Pretense

Sometimes I dislike people because of their privileges, and distance myself. 

That’s the honest truth. 

Especially when I cannot ever get there. 

I know it’s not fair for them whom I might not even know, 

swiping left for White gays. 

But that’s my protection. 

And there are people I have known for a long time, 

I gradually realized our differences. 

The distance has grown over time… 

or maybe I intentionally let it grow. 

Distance is the most effective protection that I learned to use. 

Shut myself off emotionally. 

Run away thousands of miles geographically so that I don’t have to look at them. 

It might look like I’m the one who’s hating, 

when my friends and family are trying to reach out. 

I feel guilty. 

I feel guilty that I cannot just be a friendly one 

who overlooks all the microaggressions for a day. 

Telling myself just to put a smile on my face. 

Pretend that all is good as my pain inside increases 

as the proximity of a relationship gets closer. 

Yikes.

It’s so close that I cannot see the violence coming from them or myself. 

All is good. 

That has been my life. 

Pretending that I am good, 

In the truest sense, 

I didn't even know I was pretending to begin with. 

I used to tell my friends which girls I liked 

when I was thinking of which girls I wanted to be like. 

I kept auditioning with White people 

when I literally had 3% or less chance to be on Broadway. 

I said I love you to my White exes 

when the only thing I needed was the validation from their kind.

I should win Emmys for this. 

We all should, not those White celebrities. 

I don’t win any awards for being on stage because I’m not pretending, maybe. 

I know it’s not their fault and they are trying. 

Then so am I. 

It is not my fault that  I do not want to be hurt. 

It is not my fault that I do not want to pretend anymore. 

It is not my fault that the oppressions oppress. 

And again it is not their fault either…  as individuals… or is it?

Then how. 

How could I ever go back to those days that were all good. 

The system will break me, 

or I can break the system inside of my narrow perspective. 

But what will be left is not a la-la land. 

It is the pain and struggle. 

What is different is that this pain and struggle is for freedom. 

It no longer leads to dehumanizing pretense of all is good. 

I’m reclaiming my worthiness through simply holding the texture of worthiness which for me is softening and subtle vibration. Michel sometimes tells stories of the Mya Taung Sayadaw in Burma. He practiced cultivating worthiness by looking at a statue of Buddha. It’s the first of the Four Guardian Meditations.

(1) Recollection virtues of the Buddha

(2) Contemplation of the 32 parts of the body

(3) Loving-kindness

(4) Reflection on death

It’s not widely taught in the U.S. maybe because these practice sounds simple. I find it very nurturing and protective.

Introduction to Vipassana and Gender Exploration

This is where I’m at. I don’t want anyone to think that if you practice mindfulness, you are ready to explore and transition. I have no idea! It’s up to you completely. Mindfulness as a practice of liberation — liberation from greed, hatred, and delusion — is a great framework to keep reconnecting for me because there’s a common thread in nature of the mind. If that’s too out there… There is something that is very important to reconnect with the body using sensations. Those very subtle cues that the body goes through are entry ways to start building the relationships with the body and mind: soft, hard, moist, dry, heat, coolness, tension, and pressure.

I wonder if there’s anyone who has not been traumatized growing up. I use this word widely. Accidents, medical procedures, assault, neglect, bully, systematic oppression… There are enough trauma studies to show that it is difficult to get in touch with the painful part of ourselves without being in touch with the body. Embodiment helps to establish some sense of safety. It seems like that was the case for me; I had no idea gender transition was on the horizon when I started the practice. Calling up curiosity around gender (or race) means to question my own existence. I would imagine it would be meaningful for anyone (and scary). For me it’s not negotiable as a trans person, otherwise the world will crush me. Before praising the wisdom and love of “wise and compassionate” people on the margin, there needs to be a culture to reconsider what condition led them to take risks like that to survive. 

Besides the practice, I have amazing support around me. My friends, especially trans friends who go through different yet similar flavored experiences. My husband who is encouraging to live my truth and willing to explore non-traditional, non-monogamy marriage (Whatever that means TBD). Therapist. Meditation teachers who are accepting and caring. Somewhat healthy and broken my aging dancer body. Unstable but successful career. Warm and comfortable apartment. Resources to see my doctor and continue with the transgender medical care. I feel appreciative of my external support AND transition has much to do with internal landscape that I did not get in touch with until I started my own liberatory practice and educating myself around gender and race.      

My introduction to Vipassana meditation on a retreat setting was at Kyaswa monastery in the Sagaing Hills of Upper Burma in the beginning of 2018 leaving 10 days before the closing of Miss Saigon on Broadway (I had had enough). I met my teachers from the US there whom I slowly opened up over the years and built much appreciation for. All the foreigners were mostly White people except myself, but everyone else was Asian in the monastery. I learned by diving into the deep ends for 3 weeks on a silent retreat, being ordained. One of my tendencies… just jumping off.

Fast forward to 2019, I was sitting in a floating bungalow on a lake in Southern Thailand, another 10 day silent retreat. I remembered this nightmare I used to have when I was kid. I would have it and sleep walk out of fear. As a queer child there was so much pent up energy and restlessness inside of me, probably out of fear of not fitting in. This nightmare might not sound scary, but rather peaceful; it was a gentle moving scenery of a grass hill, and there was a girl in a red dress and hat holding a red balloon. She was standing beside a dollhouse as big as her. In one sitting, I saw the imagery and understood that the girl was me. I was afraid of the dream because I was her and I was not allowed to be her. That’s when I remembered that I was not comfortable in my male body. A few months later, I came out to my friend and my husband as a non-binary. In the fall, I reintroduced myself as he/they when our Broadway rehearsal started.

My first direct encounter with trans people had happened before JLP but one of the cast mates was the first person who introduced me to the use of pronouns. Zie became my actual friend who I cared for and who cared for me. We met in 2017 while we did the first workshop for JLP.

At that time I had a 300-hr certification for teaching mindfulness from MNDFL. I had been to a few weekend retreats and a 7-day Zen retreat, only having started formal daily practice at the end of 2014 with my mental breakdown. I was straight up gay Asian man on Broadway who had not been educated enough around internalized white-superiority or exploring gender identity and sexuality. My career and romantic relationship were on the verge of big changes; I felt disheartened being in a show about a misogynistic white savior story about the Vietnam War written and produced by White men, and could not wrap my head around the fact that my my fiancé who’s White American was suggesting an open relationship right before our wedding which led to our new relationship dynamic and made my transition smoother. I digress… Some awareness around racism on Broadway was brought up, and meeting my friend at JLP was my initial unintended shift around my gender identity. With practice, it was natural for me to start noticing different aspects of life that I had not paid attention to before, which ended up being mostly unpleasant oppressive truths about gender and race. That was partly why I left my 2nd Broadway show 10 days before the closing to go to Burma. At the end of the day, one aspect of mindfulness is training the attention. One aspect of many. 

It was not like everyone called me they/them. Plus, I could not imagine taking up space like that. Not worthy was the understatement of my life. My friend kept checking on me and included me when some trans non-binary clothing line came to the cast and gave us sample clothing. But I remember feeling like a fraud. Was I really non-binary?

Then Covid-19 pandemic happened. I was exhausted already from the show and took the time off to go back to school and join my teachers for online-at-home-self-retreats during the lockdown. Over the pandemic year of 2020 I was on a few retreats for over 30 days in total. I don’t know how I did that with a 1 bedroom apartment in NYC with my husband working remotely with an anxious dog, but we worked it out. Their weekly gatherings were helpful as well. Insights really worked their way into my life since Kyaswa, and especially those during the pandemic led me to make my decision to medically transition. Not because I was wiser or more accepting, but I felt just a tiny bit safer in the chaos of the world.

Beginning

*** I’m not writing this to share insights that came over the years. I just think there might be something that serves someone at some point in their life around race, gender and mindfulness. Hoping it will serve people of any social locations, but especially those who have to wrestle because of the dominant demographic of White population in the colonizing Western centric capitalistic mindfulness. It’s not a shade to anyone, maybe a little to White people. But I do understand as a Japanese person from Japan who had no idea how internalized Western superiority took place growing up, which was probably passed down from the Imperial Japan era. This initially brought me to the U.S. The bright white American Dream!

In the middle of struggling to decolonize myself, I would like to share the power of the oppressed, as Paulo Freire might put it, that comes from the weakness, tenderness, and softness I inherited as an immigrant, Asian, trans human from the working class living in Munsee Lanape land.  

As I chatted with Jesse, he asked me if I was writing stuff down about how I experienced my transition as a yogi. I told him that I was, but it was sporadic. After we hung up, I started to collect my eclectic writings on my notes and poems during lockdown and home retreat. I try to distinguish my experience and thoughts from what  I’ve heard from my teachers/ spiritual friends: Jesse Vega-Frey, Michele McDonald, Steven Smith, and Jake H Davis, who have strong lineage in Burma, Theravada Buddhism. They heard it from their teachers and them from theirs. It is written as not a direct quote but a paraphrasing because it is not my forte to remember words by words in my second language. And it is not quite possible to have clear boundaries because I’m writing about dhamma, nature. Wisdom and love do not belong to anyone, but I intend to pay respect to the lineage of over 2600 years. 

TRANSITION BABY

Babies are joy. 

Babies are assholes. 

But babies are magical. 

I’m holding this process like that. 

Once it starts after a painful birth

I cannot NOT be there.

It’s slow and gritty but

I gotta be there. 

People get excited. 

I’m rather calm and steady. 

Otherwise this storm sweeps me up and down. 

It sweeps me up and down anyways.

Disenchantment is no joke. 

Disillusionment is unnerving. 

Change is often a bitch otherwise a relief. 

Am I ready? 

Yes, no, and maybe.

This is my writing on my meditation practice and process of gender affirming medical care (race comes in as well because of intersectionality). I would not have decided to start my transition (mostly medical ones) if I had not had the foundation of practice. I am not saying that it is mandatory, but it has been helpful for me, especially with the approach my teachers took. It was trauma sensitive even before “trauma sensitive” mindfulness became a thing. I’d hate to call it that, but basically it was.

Naturally with a big decision like medical transition would bring lots of doubts. It challenges my self-worth and acceptance. I heard from Steven that the recipe for doubts was desire, aversion, low energy, restlessness and worry all mixed together like a hairball. It’s hard to observe doubts let alone discern because the nature of doubt is making experience unclear. I have doubted every decision on my transition. Breaking up with my therapist, voice teacher, starting gender affirming hormone therapy (GAHT or HRT), buying more femme wardrobe, coming out to my manager, getting weaves, taking out weaves… Why the fuck am I putting through this? Wasn’t I oppressed enough? Spiraling… When I have doubts, I want clarity, solution, and reasons. I would google, talk to my therapist, reach out to friends, read, and listen to Dharma talks and podcasts.

These are great tactics, but how about connecting with the texture of doubt? It's a murky, dark, heavy, suffocating, tight, closed, unpleasant texture for me. There is a little clarity in the very act of sensing and feeling. It does not fix anything or change situation how I want it t be, but the practice is to be with whatever is happening without preference. Maybe when I have some energy, I might call up compassion, lovingkindness, or equanimity. Even gladness that the mind is trying to be careful and protect me by throwing never-ending questions and worries. If not, I’d feel the unnerving texture for 3 seconds and go back to cleaning the kitchen counter with light awareness — hardness, moist, soft… I don’t think doubt by nature is reasonable or literal. It’s connected with the part that my teachers would call it pre-verbal or non-conceptual. Then rationalizing doubts might not be as helpful as I would like to think… These are rare moments of clarity to be honest… living in NYC as a freelance performer is not a supportive environment, but hey I work with what I got.

Oh by the way, I still don’t exactly know who I am or what gender is. Definitely I have not figured anything out. I know it is a long shot to transcend gender as well as liberate the mind. More to come :-) Thank you for reading.

With metta, Kei