GUEST OF OURSELVES >> 04 .
Quietly Disruptive: Rethinking service, safety, and how we show up for each other.
When I traveled through Asia,
one of the first things I noticed was how chill the dining experience felt. No one interrupting mid-bite to ask if everything was amazing. No overly enthusiastic specials monologue. You sit. You eat. You pay. That’s it. Even in Michelin-starred spots, the service was clean, efficient, respectful—and refreshingly unfussy.
And to get your server’s attention? You wave them down. Like, with your hand. Boldly. In public. I remember laughing at how normal that was over there—and thinking about how uncomfortable that would make people here.
Back in the States, hospitality has a script. Greet within 60 seconds. Drop waters. Mention the octopus special, even if no one asked. Check in 2 minutes after the food hits the table. Refill without asking. All delivered with a smile.
Has anyone else ever wondered—who made these rules?
Did we create a system that trained guests to expect constant attention? Or did guest expectations shape our obsessive, performative standards of service?
Somewhere along the way, hospitality became less about care and more about control. Preempting every need. Over-apologizing. Smiling through burnout. And maybe that’s the tipping culture talking—when your wage depends on someone else’s mood, you learn to read the room like your rent depends on it. Because it does. I’m reminded of all this every time I serve guests visiting from other countries. They expect service differently, often causing a clash between our version of hospitality and their expectations. Some wave you down without hesitation—what might be considered rude here feels totally normal elsewhere. Others seem caught off guard by how often we show up at the table.
That quiet cultural disconnect reveals how deeply conditioned our approach to service really is. We think we’re elevating the experience—but sometimes, we’re just overcomplicating it.
And it’s not just service.
The way we move through the world—how we speak, listen, lead, or respond to discomfort—is shaped by the same invisible conditioning: social cues, family norms, and cultural scripts. Most of us are reacting to expectations we never consciously agreed to.
And this conditioning doesn’t stop at guests.
Our peers, our coworkers—everyone shows up to this job with their own blueprint. What hospitality looks like. How leadership should feel. What’s “professional” or “too much”.
That’s where intersectionality comes in. Coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, intersectionality is the idea that our identities—race, gender, class, ability, immigration status—don’t exist in silos. They overlap. And when they do, they shape how we’re treated, how we show up, and how we serve.
Lately, with everything happening in our communities and across the country, I think a lot of us are carrying a quiet fear. Maybe it’s in our bodies. Maybe it’s in our silence. Maybe it’s in that underlying hum of uncertainty that makes it hard to breathe fully.
Mindfulness is helpful. Meditation can be grounding. But neither abolishes grief. Or violence. Or systems that were never built to protect all of us equally. And yet, we’ve learned to use these tools—breathwork, movement, even “positive energy”—to bypass hard feelings. To soothe over discomfort instead of sitting with it. Regulation without reflection isn’t healing—it’s dissociation with a wellness filter.
Travel helped open up my lens, sure. But perspective doesn’t require a plane ticket. It just takes intention.
The next time you’re in a room—at work, in service, on the floor—notice who feels safe. Who doesn’t. Whose voice gets space, and who’s scanning for permission to speak. That’s where awareness begins.
Practice empathy more often-not the performative kind, but the quiet, embodied kind. The kind that requires presence. Curiosity.
Expanding your community—intentionally—can be one of the most honest ways to challenge the subconscious norms we didn’t even know we were carrying.
Look around—who’s in your circle? Your workplace? Your table? Is there variety in experience, background, perspective? Or does everyone look like you, think like you, move through the world in similar ways?
When I was the traveling tourist, the language barrier caused me so much frustration. I think about that now when I serve guests and an order turns into a Google Translate conversation. It's humbling. It's human. It’s a reminder.
Seeing others—really seeing them—is a practice. A skill. And co-regulation is part of that practice. Making eye contact. Softening your voice. Grounding yourself so someone else can feel the room shift. That’s hospitality too. It’s not just about ambiance or table touches—it’s about being someone people can breathe around.
If you’re in a position of leadership or perhaps you hold influence amongst your peers—especially if you hold privilege—this is where it matters. Not to lead with shame, but with curiosity. To ask what others in the room might be navigating that you don’t see.
To shift from “How do I lead?” to “Who might feel unseen in this space, and why?”
Nothing about this work is simple.
Not when you’re carrying your own weight and someone else’s expectations at the same time.
But I believe in the people doing it with heart. With eyes open.
That’s where the culture shifts—not in policy, but in presence.
Try This: A Quiet Reset
Take a moment. Stay where you are.
Feel the weight of your body—against the chair, the ground, the air.
Now, imagine a small glowing orb at the center of your chest.
As you inhale, the orb expands—soft light filling your ribcage, your shoulders, your throat.
As you exhale, it gently contracts—drawing you back to center.
Again—
Inhale. Expand.
Exhale. Settle.
Let the breath move like that for a few rounds. No effort, no rush.
Notice what shifts.
Not in your thoughts, but in your body.
Do your shoulders soften? Does your jaw release?
Do you feel a little more here?
That’s it. That’s presence.
Sometimes it starts with just returning to your own heartbeat.
This Months Event
Breathe With Us
If you’re craving a space to ground, reflect, and reconnect—join us.
Our next community yoga flow happens Tuesday, July 1st at 10AM at the Earth Corner (Upas & Jacaranda).
A space for breath. For movement. For people who work in service and rarely get a moment to receive it.
Come as you are.
All bodies welcome.
No performance necessary.
Celestial Events:
New Moon in Cancer – July 5th
Mercury enters Leo – July 11th
Venus enters Leo – July 11th
Full Moon in Capricorn – July 21st
Chiron Retrograde in Aries – July 26th