Issue 62: Navigating New-Age Nunchi

Lost In Translation with Mira Garrett Bayonne.

Warm Greetings, KP!

In this second edition of Lost in Translation, I’m exploring the Korean ‘sixth sense’ known as, nunchi. It makes me think of motherhood because it’s an intuitive force! I wonder how much of it has been able to permeate into the crust of our Komerican Pie?

Mother’s Day just passed, and this time of year always feels lively with celebratory reflections of the love and wisdom received from mothers— our first teachers. How many times can you remember your mother correcting your manners or teaching you how to care for others? It’s likely more than anyone could recount, but the repetition sticks. We find ourselves practicing and passing on those lessons, as second nature.

Lost in Translation is an exploration of cultural shifts amongst the Korean diaspora, from the perspective of a first-generation, biracial Komerican. It's a journey of self-discovery through reconciling the past and embracing the evolution of the culture.

Navigating New-Age Nunchi by Mira Garrett Bayonne

How well can you read a room?

Have you ever been described as a “nunchi ppaleun salam” (눈치 빠른 사람)? Or perhaps you’re like me, and have no clue; but find yourself intrigued and sensorily delighted by the sound of [noon-chee], as you pronounce it for the first time— Ha!

The ability to silently shift the energetic field of a room— that’s nunchi.

Nunchi (눈치) is an intuitive skillset of accurately assessing the energy of a person or space, and quickly adapting your personal energy to accommodate harmony. The objective is to use “eye-measure” to gauge a situation before acting— also to avoid the embarrassment of being mindlessly offensive.

The charming appreciation for subtlety makes nunchi feel like a unique cultural clairvoyance. Its potency, derived through mass attentiveness and cultural accord.

The more I dig into my Korean heritage, I find that there are so many seemingly hidden or encoded frequencies within me that I have yet to fully unlock, simply because I lack a cultural reference point. Well, my recent discovery of nunchi resonated like the unleashing force of a reservoir through a fallen dam, in coalescence with the river it once knew as itself. Understanding is the ultimate experience of reverence.

I have begun to realize that much of the miscommunication I’ve encountered with my mother wasn’t due solely to our language barrier. It likely had more to do with the fact that I had no basis to properly perceive her nunchi. Nunchi is most adeptly fostered within the intimacy of close proximity and shared experience. For a long time, we had neither, and it felt like such an impediment— until now.

Korean social culture revolves heavily around context and deference— much of which is nonverbal. American culture, by contrast, values convenience and autonomy, with a common understanding that "closed mouths don't get fed." Fostering the two cultures together, has played an interesting part in my personal journey.

In today’s modern society, where so many traditional customs have yielded to convenience, I wonder how might nunchi be preserved within the Komerican evolution of the diaspora, particularly in the digital age.

Historical pillars of nunchi can be traced back to the thirteenth century adoption of Neo-Confucianism during the Joseon Era, in Korea. There was a structural emphasis on: education and meritocracy, social harmony and respect for authority, and moral governance. This paradigm provided a sense of conformity that seemed beneficial in cultivating a prosperous civilization. However, it was perpetuated by rigid hierarchies, resisted change, and promoted collectivism over individualism. It was a classic “death before dishonor” model for society.

It’s understandable that Western influences have shaken those social archetypes, with American values like equality, innovation, and individual rights. A few years ago, I asked my mom if she would ever consider retiring in Korea. I figured she might enjoy more ease there— considering language, cultural familiarity, and the country’s vast development since the time she left in the 70s. To my surprise, she said, “no, because I can live more comfortably here… I can just focus on myself, if I want, and be unbothered.”

I didn’t fully grasp her sentiment until I understood nunchi. While predictable terms of engagement may offer a roundabout of good will, the entitlement that sometimes persists, particularly in hierarchal dynamics, can become a depleting burden. The courtesy doesn’t feed the soul of the social organism equally.

But we’re also contending with many other threats to social well-being, today. Eye-measure is becoming literally reduced to arm's length. Digital distractions and social disconnection is severing the ancestral intelligence from our DNA— shifting the textured and layered canvas of our human nature to a flattened, paint-by-numbers iteration of life that was once vastly original.

Americans are developing an intolerance for in-person connection by allowing social media, Zoom meetings, and curbside pick-ups to act as intermediaries between our intrinsic flow of human energy. This is a problem!

The new-age approach to nunchi must consider the individual as well as the whole, to keep authenticity in tact. Harmonious existence is the dream, but what are we evolving to if there is a fleeting regard for what’s real?

While quick nunchi can spare a nervous system spike, inauthentic exchanges undermine our sense of reality. We risk losing our collective grasp of the truth— encompassing generations of human nature patterns, instinctual energy, and situational awareness.

We need more human-grounding to balance our digital dependence, and prevent us from operating like soulless robots.

Crispy Crust: Original art and poetry from an unhyphenated life.

Reticence

Silence is underrated.
Often perceived as a deafening void,
but in actuality,
it is Spirit contemplated 
in a medium that can never be destroyed.

It garners no sensible criticism,
nor cynical feedback.
It’s the sacred gateway into mysticism 
that bears no limiting structure to keep track
of words, grammar, syntax, or tone;
just vibration and breath,
a peaceful rhythm to hone.

No chaos, no crowd.  
No incitement of confusion.
But do not fear saying the quiet things aloud
because sound is simply a sensory illusion;
perceived only by the density of speed.
Silence is the reckoning of heart and mind
that holds space for whispers of truth, 
in solitary times of need.

Love, Mira