The Month of Gratitude (and Everything That Tested It) - Edition 13 // 11.21.25

Dear curious explorer of the world 🌏,

November is disappearing in a blink.

Before I flew to China, I gave this month a name — “The Month of Gratitude.”

Every time I travel, I like to create a little “game” for myself: a theme or intention that grounds me in what I want to practice and listen for.

But maybe you’ve experienced this too:
The moment you choose a quality to embody, everything that shows up first is NOT that.

When “gratitude” felt very far away

Coming home this time, I imagined warmth, ease, and connection.
Instead, I felt… angry, tight, and irritated at everything.

Small things set me off — like how my parents still hadn’t fixed the shower head after years, even though it would make their lives easier. Or how they kept telling me what to do, when to come home, and how to spend my time. Or how I feel like I need to prove I am good enough and living a good life in America in front of my Chinese friends.

On the surface, I was irritated.
But underneath, there was something deeper,

A sense of helplessness - I can see a different way of living for them, but I can’t make them choose it.
A feeling of being trapped in old family dynamics.
And a sharp whisper of self-debut inside:
“Everyone else seems further ahead. What am I doing?”

The moment everything softened

In that messy moment, I paused.

I journaled.
I breathed.
I looked honestly at what was happening inside me.

And I reached out to my community and turned to one of the tools I’ve been exploring — BaZi, something from my culture that helps me understand my patterns and emotional tendencies.

Three powerful things showed up for me:

1. Irritation is never the root — it’s the surface.

Underneath is usually pain, grief, or love.
My anger wasn’t about the shower head.
It was the ache of wanting my version of a “better life” for my parents and not being able to change what isn’t mine to change.

2. I’m not “behind” — I’m simply not designed for a traditional path.

My nature is exploratory, intuitive, and experiential.
Comparison is the quickest way for me to forget that.
When I compare myself to people on a different timeline, I lose sight of the path that’s actually mine.

3. My sensitivity is not a flaw — it’s how I read the world.

The same sensitivity that triggers me at home is the same sensitivity that allows me to create retreats, to hold space for others, and to help people see themselves clearly.

These insights didn’t solve everything, but they helped me breathe.
They softened the edges.
They brought me back to myself.

Returning to my five pillars

When I felt grounded again, I looked through the lens of my Grounded Harmony Life pillars and saw exactly what was missing:

🌸 Self-Development — my inner world was full, but I wasn’t giving it space.
🌿 Connection & Community — I needed people outside my family bubble.
💫 Making a Difference — I felt stagnant because I wasn’t contributing creatively.
🏔️ Adventure — I wasn’t relating to my trip with curiosity; I was just reacting.
🔥 Being Active — I wasn’t moving at all, and my body knew it.

As soon as I saw this, the confusion lifted.
Not because anything changed —
but because I could see clearly again.

I reached out to friends.
I scheduled a workout session.
I reconnected with my husband and restarted our “Gratitude Game.”
I stopped trying to fix everything around me and focused on grounding in myself.

What November taught me

My life isn’t perfect.
I still get triggered.
But what I have now — and what I’m practicing every day - are the tools to return.

To pause.
To notice.
To choose again.

That, to me, is what a Grounded Harmony Life actually looks like:
Not never falling…
but knowing how to come home to yourself.

Looking Ahead: Grounding Room: a practice space for coming home

As we move into the holiday season, everything gets louder — the family dynamics, the expectations, the rushing, the pressure to “be happy,” the calendar filling faster than our hearts can keep up.

It’s a beautiful time…
and also a tender time.

And after the month I’ve had, I’m noticing how easy it is to get swept into everyone else’s energy — family patterns, old triggers, cultural expectations, year-end urgency — and forget my own rhythm.

Which is why I’m holding on tightly to the practices that bring me back to myself.

This season, grounding isn’t optional — it’s essential.
Not to escape the holidays…
but to remain rooted inside them.

🫖 Friday, Nov 29 — In Person (DTLA) @11 am - 2 pm

The Grounding Room: Complete & Create at Shiloh Tea House, in partnership with Happening in DTLA

This gathering is for anyone who’s moving fast, feeling full, or needing a quiet moment to breathe.
Together, we’ll sit in ceremony, sip tea, reflect, release, and intentionally create how we want to close the year — and how we want to begin the next.
It’s a soft landing in the middle of a busy season.

💻 Monday, Dec 1 — Online (Zoom) @7:00 pm - 8:30 pm PST

The Grounding Room: Monthly Reset

If you want a gentle, guided pause before December begins, this is your space.
We’ll look back at the month with honesty, release what’s been heavy, and map out the coming weeks with clarity and intention — so you don’t default into holiday overwhelm, but consciously create your own rhythm.

As the year winds down, my intention is simple:

Slow down enough to feel my life.
Ground myself enough to choose how I want to live it.

And I want to extend that invitation to you.

Whether your holidays feel joyful, stressful, heavy, chaotic, or tender, you don’t have to navigate them on autopilot.

Come ground with us.
Come create your ending.
Come design your beginning.

Let’s step into December — and into the new year — grounded, present, and connected, together.

With love and curiosity,
Shanshan

P.S. A question for your journal:
“Where in my life do I need to pause, notice what’s actually true, and return to myself?”