10 min read ⭑

Author and spiritual director Tasha Jun has a beautiful perspective on belonging. As a Korean American who grew up in a multicultural and biracial home, she has spent her life “navigating cultural collisions and liminal space.” She is a dreamer who is passionate about creating spaces of belonging for everyone she encounters. Her book, “Tell Me the Dream Again: Reflections on Family, and the Sacred Work of Belonging,” delves into what it’s like to be biracial in America today and the importance of fully embracing your God-given identity.

In this interview, Tasha openly discusses her struggle with rejection and the temptation to hide as well as the victory she’s experienced as she has allowed God’s compassion and gentleness to remind her she is deeply loved.  Tasha shares what it’s like to be a “nomadic homebody,” how Korean dumplings help her reflect on the past and invite her to create future memories, and how she practices the art of paying attention. Continue reading to learn about practical ways Tasha invites God into memories of the past to bring healing.

QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

There’s much more to food than palate and preference. How does a go-to meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind the web bio?

I grew up in many places — from the West Coast to the East Coast with a few places in the middle, from Tokyo, Japan, and Freiburg, Germany, and back to the Midwest. Throughout my “there and back again” life so far, having fried mandu with family and friends is a meal that will always stand out and always make me feel at home. My mom made mandu in heaps — enough to feed whatever neighborhood we lived in at the time, whether there were four of us or twenty. Mandu, or Korean dumplings, can be boiled, added to soups, steamed, pan-fried or deep-fried. In my mixed race family of upbringing, our favorite was deep-fried. All hands were on deck. Filling dumpling wrappers, sealing them around a good chunk of whatever protein we were using with veggies and kimchi, and then lining them up ready to be fried was a communal experience. I remember these times with almost as much joy as I have remembering the taste. We dipped our mandu in the traditional soy-vinegar sauce and a bowl of Pace Picante salsa — my Californian dad’s contribution.  

Making mandu with my own family today carries all the memories and feelings of my past with it while offering the chance to build new ones. Each fill and fold, along with the sound of crackling of oil, is a tangible way to carry on the communal gift of jeong my Korean mom passed on to me.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So, what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activities do you love and help you find spiritual renewal?

Travel is one of my favorite things. I am a nomadic homebody who would travel year-round if I could — finding homecomings wherever I go. While it’s easy for me to find and feel the presence of God in nature among the trees, open sky, water and mountains while traveling, I also find God in the faces and sounds of cities. There’s a rhythm to cities just like there's a rhythm to water or trees moving with the wind. Instead of feeling stressed by the noise of a city, I’ve started to notice people’s faces and movements, voices and languages, and I see God in it all. As magnificent as a redwood reaching toward the light is this unique creation of body, soul, experiences and stories looking for the Light of all lights (whether they know it or not) and shining whatever light they have been given as they laugh with a friend, hold the hand of a partner or young child, or enjoy the taste of their coffee in a cafe. I’ve carried this breath prayer around in my mind as I’ve encountered new places and people:

Breathe in: God, you made each person I see with love and intention.

Breathe out: May I see and hear your masterful work in every face and voice.

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness. Every human, too. We're just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re broken and in this thing together. So what’s your kryptonite and how do you hide it?

When things in life feel hard or overwhelming, I want to hide. I spent years of my life hiding, hating the details that made me who I am — from my Koreanness to my naturally slow-paced, introverted, melancholy soul. And while I’ve been on a decades-long journey of healing from that self-hatred and rejection, and live more authentically and honestly than I ever thought I could or would, I still carry the temptation to hide who I am really am, how I really feel or what things I wrestle and struggle with. Sometimes I go to that old space externally and internally. This looks like not engaging with others, canceling plans I was excited about, shutting down while in conversation and shifting the subject away from sharing anything significant, avoiding my journaling practice and prayer, and speaking to myself with harsh, condemning words and hatred. In these times, the only way out for me is to meet myself there with the compassion and gentleness God has met me with again and again and to remind myself that's not who I am or what I was created for.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your obsession? And why should it be ours?

My passion is paying attention — attention to my heart and soul, attention to the people and places I am surrounded by, attention to the past, present and future and the details that make people uniquely who they are, attention to the ways everything is connected, attention to love notes from God, to God’s presence, and how God brings big and small glimpses of shalom into our lives and the world. This is why I write and why I talk about stories as much as I do. This is why I am going to school to become a spiritual director. 

My first book, “Tell Me the Dream Again,” a memoir-in-essays that’s also been called “a love letter to my mom” and “a guidebook to embracing one’s whole self” by dear readers, was birthed in a college memoir class over twenty years ago while I was digging deep into the stories of others and being asked to be brave and dig into the story of myself. Even though the seed of this book was underground for years (in hiding), it didn’t stay there. It grew up from the ground once I started paying attention to the story of my heritage, and it asked to be told by bleeding out onto whatever pages and conversations it could. The things we try to hide and keep inside will always find a way out. Once we pay attention to who we truly are and what we’ve been given in love, we can cheerfully choose to be generous and hospitable with those things. I do this primarily through writing stories and poetry and notes. “Tell Me the Dream Again” is something I am grateful to give away so that others, especially those who don’t see themselves represented very often, might find themselves reflected in the pages. And now I am working on other forthcoming writing projects. They will be different, but the heart and passion behind it all remains the same.

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors, or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it's God when it happens?

Sometimes I want to run from writing and run from my own life. Life is hard, and knowing my passions and knowing how many beautiful things I’ve been given in this life doesn’t mean those things come without struggle or difficulty. I love writing. I’ve always been a writer, yet the work of it can be exhausting. Sometimes I run from it, try to be someone else, or try to ignore it, but it always comes back around to find me. Rather, it stays with me no matter what I do. For a number of years after graduating from college, I chose to pursue full-time ministry and walked away from furthering my education in creative writing. I thought one was the better, more spiritual choice and while I don’t regret those years and see how that time in ministry has helped make me who I am today, I see how the writer in me (which is much more than being a writer for work) waited like it knew I would come back to it. I see such grace and mercy in being given the choice to leave and come back to something that was already in me, waiting for my attention. In small ways, I still see this. I run from the details that God has woven into the core of me, but they remain, waiting to be embraced. And beyond the actual work or practice of writing, it’s more a way of being and seeing in the world. I find so much love and compassion in that, and the more I experience it, the harder it is to turn from.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied actions that open our hearts to the presence of God. So spill it, which spiritual practice is workin' best for you right now?

I recently wrote about this over at my substack (Shalomsick Notes). “Rememorari Divina” is a spiritual practice I often use. It could be a sibling of Lectio or Visio Divina. The difference in this practice is that the focus is on a memory instead of a passage of scripture or a work of art.

In addition to memories that come to mind, I also practice Rememorari Divina with photos, using the image and my own mental memory of it combined. There’s no “fixing” of what was or anything specific that happens through the practice. It merely helps me connect the dots between a memory and God’s love for me, and it helps me experience God’s presence with me as I look back and consider both then and now.

This practice is something I’ve done for some time, without knowing or naming it as a contemplative spiritual practice. I’ve always been someone who has looked back and carried vivid memories (both joyful and challenging) around as if they are in my back pocket. I haven’t always known what to do with them. At times I’ve gone back to them searching for something: closure, a clue or another take. Other times, I’ve felt like some memories follow me like a shadow, making it hard to see the gift of today. At some point along the way in my longings and wrestling with the past, I started trying to invite God into those moments with me. It’s changed the way this melancholy girl looks back, and that has impacted the way I am able to stay present where I am and trust that God is with me.

Try it for yourself.

Imagine your younger self or think about a past memory (it can be a joyful or difficult one). Focus on whatever image or feeling stands out, and ask God to show you your belovedness in that memory. Include these breath prayers if you are comfortable:

Breathe in and pray: God-with-me, show me my belovedness back then.

Breathe out and pray: I was never separated from your love.

Breathe in and pray: God-with-me, ground me in my belovedness right now.

Breathe out and pray: Nothing can separate me from your love.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Our email subscribers get free ebooks featuring our favorite resources — lots of things that have truly impacted our faith lives. But you know about some really great stuff, too. What are some resources that have impacted you? 

Participating in a local small group of racially diverse women over a decade ago, inspired by the early days of Be the Bridge, was transformative for me. My dear friend Tanorria led the first gathering I attended, and as a group of diverse women from many different churches in the area, we ate together and used “Be the Bridge: Pursuing God's Heart for Racial Reconciliation” written by Latasha Morrison to guide our conversation. It was the first time I had ever been in a faith-based space that invited me to talk about my racial experiences freely and listen to the stories of others. Be the Bridge continues to inspire me with their resources, podcast interviews and work they are doing in the world.

Alia Joy was one of my first writing friends who graciously and generously welcomed me into her life as a newish “public” writer. Not only do I admire her as a writer (she’s one of the best there is), but I also deeply admire her as a person, a fellow biracial Asian American, a mother, a prophetic poet, a wise guide and a tender-hearted soul. Her debut book, “Glorious Weakness,” is a work of art and a must-read. 

This one is recent, but I am moved and inspired by the work of Aisea and Elmira Taimani, who lead Minor Islands and work to make worship “glocal.” I recently attended a gathering where Aisea led worship, and it was an experience unlike any other I’ve ever had. The gift of learning to sing songs in other languages and also being led with attention to breath and movement, joy and lament, with such humility and zero pretense was deeply moving, refreshing and inspiring. The space was beautiful and welcoming; it somehow considered others and connected us to others near and far, and I felt the presence of God through all of it.

We all have things we cling to to survive (or thrive) in tough times. Name one resource you’ve found indispensable in this current season — and tell us what it's done for you.

Lectio 365 is an app I currently use most mornings. Sometimes I read it silently, sometimes I listen and read, and other times I just listen. It resets my thoughts and gives me a moment to be present “where my feet are.”

I am also in love with “Sanctuary Songs,” the album made in partnership between Porter’s Gate and Sanctuary Mental Health. “Centering Prayer Song” by Andrew Peterson is one I listen to regularly and where the aforementioned “be where my feet are” comes from. I listen to this song when I feel discontent or overwhelmed and let the words wash over me as I breathe and find my footing again. And when I can't listen to it or play it, I recite the simple lines in my mind as I walk or breathe in and out, and it helps me tremendously.

QUESTION #8: dream

God is continually stirring new things in each of us. So give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

After leading an emerging writers cohort for emerging bipoc writers of faith last year, one of the fellows told me that “I create spaces of belonging.” It shook me because it was specifically through writing and mentoring others in their writing, while facilitating a group and leading in a contemplative way, that this response was born. In those words, I heard something that my entire being already knew, and it wasn’t a career description. It was what I was made for and long to do with and for others.

Belonging is something that felt impossible and unreachable for most of my life, and so much of longing for it is wrapped up into my own story. To be at a point in life where I don’t feel like I am trying to find it everywhere else but can participate in the sacred work of it while creating spaces for others who feel alone has changed everything for me. I am working toward becoming a spiritual director to “create spaces of belonging” for others who are on their own spiritual journeys. I write to create spaces of belonging on screens, within book pages, poems and stories. I mentor others to create spaces of belonging that I longed for. I dream of more and more ways and places to write invitations of belonging and create spaces for others to know they aren’t alone and can find shalom.

Tasha brings a unique and valuable perspective to the idea of belonging. With loneliness reaching almost epidemic levels in our fast-paced world, her commitment to paying attention — to her heart, to others’ hearts, and to what God is saying and doing around her — is inspiring. Her passion to create spaces of belonging where others can be seen and loved deeply is rooted in her own journey where God’s love brought healing and restoration. Spend some time in prayer with Tasha’s breath prayers. What memories come to mind, and how is God revealing your belovedness in the midst of those memories?

Tasha Jun is a mixed race Korean American melancholy dreamer. She grew up in a multicultural and biracial home and because of that, she’s spent her life navigating cultural collisions and liminal space. She sees the world best through stories and poetry and she’s passionate about helping others notice beauty and embrace themselves as wholly beloved. She writes about everyday life, faith, travel, and cultural and ethnic identity, and writing has always been the way she’s found hope and shalom. She is currently a student spiritual director and lives in the greater Indianapolis area with her family. Her debut book, Tell Me the Dream Again: Reflections on Family, and the Sacred Work of Belonging is available now, wherever books are sold. Find her on Instagram or subscribe to receive her newsletter, Shalomsick Notes.

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