Terraced hilly fields
Build levels, reduce runoff.
Beautifully strong—
—
Levelled
Category: life
Good Age
How good is friendship?
As good as age of a friend
Whose food transforms taste.
—
Good Roots
Good roots are strong roots
Supporting those on the soil.
They won’t be betrayed.
—
This trip is incredibly beautiful. Meeting best friends is more than anything. We talk. We laugh. We eat. We visit places. We engage with people.
One of my best friends who will be my neighbour in my humble abode is one of best human beings I’ve ever known. She lives to humbly serve humanity. She dedicates her life to help the underprivileged. She is so patient about what others do to her and always in understanding mode. She is so passionate in doing what she is doing to help others.
Among all her non profit projects that are my favourite is opening library in a small village that is functioning as youth center at the same time and supporting buruh gendong (traditional female labours who are paid to carry things either by sellers or buyers in Yogyakarta traditional markets, most of them are senior) in some traditional markets in Yogyakarta. If time allows me to live as long as I wish, our agreement is I will teach free classes of English, Japanese, leadership and management system in her youth center, while occasionally going with her from one market to another to greet the buruh gendong. Yet as an artist she is also teaching (mostly) women on how to make artistic products for sale to support themselves financially.
In this trip we discuss a lot about what we should do to ourselves and others but we can’t because of immovable blockages. We also talk about how we can feel good no matter bad a situation is. We talk about what will happen if the youth are not aware of what lies in their future at the same time we concern about how children around us get mature faster than we did before. And all always last long although with only a glass of tea, a cup of Javanese coffee and some pieces of local snack.
Life is too precious to focus on what doesn’t serve us good anymore. Life is too short to lament of any loss that is truly never loss. Life is too grand to just be sad of how that that we love disrespects us. Life is just too beautiful to consider what is not real.
So thankful for how real my best friends are in helping others. So thankful to be part of their spirit. So thankful that we are ordinary people in this grand life. So thankful that we are a grain of sand in the vast shore. So thankful that we accept who we are. So thankful that we are strong roots for each other.
Thank you, dear friend. It is good to always have a question “so what is our plan and action?” 💝
Alfatihah.
The Call
What colour is soul?
When the call is here, listen.
Skin colour is off.
—
Watching “Soul” again and still finding it refreshing 😍
Consciousness, Real?
What truly exists is what’s tangible. Nope. What truly exists is stories. Nope. What truly exists is belief. Nope. What truly exists is interconnection. Nope. What truly exists is mind. Nope. So what truly exists?
Look inside. Layer by layer….
—
A Path
A path to a place
Is walked through trees and uphills.
A meadow is waiting
Opening another path
To a warm home filled with love.
—
My friend sent me three photos of our beloved “simbah” (those senior people who are considered wise or those who have grandchildren) – Javanese). Most people call these simbah “batik maker” because they make batik to earn a living. We both call them “batik artist”. More than that through what we’ve seen and heard about them, we’ve considered they are artists of their life. How they embrace their humble life gracefully and consciously has always amazed both of us. They live like calm river flowing to the sea. They don’t struggle against what others think about or do to them. They live as if there is no hindrance and disturbance in life.
When my friend told me some things about those three honourable ladies, I secretly harvested some lessons. It is very critical reminder for me who is still very much attached to a feeling of (accidentally) underestimated and (slightly) humiliated because of one petty case. These three artists of life have silently told me to let go.
What a loud shot in a quiet weekend!
No apology is needed. All is gradually let go through my own wish and willingness. This is my life and I only want to be the artist of my own life. 💝
Thank you, artists of life. You’re blessed. 💝
Salaam.
Autumn
Dark night starts early
In fall when red leaves sway down
To earth cooling off.
—
While normally talking about spirituality and self love, one day one bestie and I conversed about money. To me she appears much more calculating than all of us in the circle. She manages her money very carefully and (of course) influences her friends to do so.
“If we feel ready with both predictable and measured emergency issues, we can feel good in more time than not.” 100% agree!
She is one of two besties teaching us to save at least 12-month income for emergency, fully pay all the loan the soonest possible, stay liquid rather than fixed (assets), not lend any assets to anyone anymore even with one’s emergency reason. I stubbornly disagreed with last one.
And she said all should be done soon because 2023 seems gloomy.
I didn’t take her words until watching a bunch of YouTube videos about financial analysis and forecast by experts and practitioners for the past two years.
Not hoping the darkness happens but there is no harm to prepare the umbrella before it rains.
Please save us. Amen…
Library
Opening the door,
She finds books and thesaurus
Stacked high to the sky.
—
What else is this life mainly but library? Read your books! 💕
“Read your books” is excepted from one Quran verse “Read your records (the word kitabaka can also mean your books or your scrolls). You alone are sufficient this day to take account of yourself” that implies self observation, self evaluation, self assessment, self correction.
Ouch! An internal audit it is — becoming the auditor and the auditee: acting different roles in the same place using different points of view. Doable and sustainable! 😍
May all beings be happy.
A Whole
A hole curls sweetly
As a center of a whole.
Delicious truth—
—
Loud & Clear Sign
Loud enough and clear—
Thunder strikes and rain begins.
Children play outside.
—
Your signs are well read, well noted, well understood. Well…. 😎
The Space
She be, Beloved,
The space not the furniture,
Lets all come and go.
—
If only maturity could be implanted like nose or breast or whatever, I would still choose to get mature naturally through ageing and weakening although it takes almost half of century of struggling and pain to find only its gate. Damn late!
One maturity breakthrough of my life was when realising I should be more a “space human being” (my teacher calls it “room human being”) rather than a “furniture human being”.
Salaam….
Come True
Come true, Beloved,
Wishes colouring this life,
Bringing love and joy—
—
My mini daruma dolls package arrived from Japan. Now it is time to make wishes and draw the left eye.
May all beings be happy!
Luxury
Luxurious is tea,
Detaching from everyone
But not everything—
—
Clear Sky (ranting)
Clear sky, Beloved,
Calm blue where clouds swim, birds fly
Under the warm sun—
—
Javanese live their life with meaning and that makes them “effortlessly” survive even in the hardest time. They pin meaning to everything they experience. I believe Javanese are naturally philosophers whose communal humble life is richly loaded with wisdom; unfortunately fading away by the time.
Meanings easily recognised by most Javanese are those pinned to batik method and patterns. Historically batik patterns were works of art composed by either scholars from padepokan (ashram in Sanskrit) or the royals (king, queen, prince, princess or royal artists). In fact, there were few batik patterns created by commoners such as batik nitik and batik kawung. Kawung is one of the oldest original patterns of Javanese batik which has existed since 12th century. Nitik was born younger, approximately in 19th century.
Fun fact about Javanese king: aside from courses of political knowledge, leadership, palace management etc, long time before his coronation a Javanese crown prince must completely compose 3 works of art and publicly present them to the board of senior royals then announced the art pieces to people in the kingdom. Those three are batik pattern whose batik is handmade by him, tembang/kidung (sacred Javanese song) sung by him; and bedhaya dance trained to the dancers by him (a solemn Javanese dance performed by a group of dancers).
While batik nitik was initially created as secret codes by commoners to circulate among them classified information kept hidden from unjust aristocrats at that time or from the enemies (some historians said though this pattern was composed by the royals); kawung was allegedly created by a mother to dress her son who was instructed by the king to join his exclusive team due to his outstanding skill of espionage and balanced state of mind (again the historians said this pattern was composed by the royals). The said mother made a sheet of kawung pattern for him before he left as a prayer that her son could keep his current quality even after he later lived among (socially, politically, professionally) higher rank people.
Kawung is the Javanese word of sugar palm (kolang-kaling). The symmetrical four half chambers in a fruit are used to symbolise balanced state among physical, mental, intellectual and spiritual. The clear colour of the seed is borrowed to symbolise clarity: of conscious mind, of conscious decisions, of intension, of purpose and of actions.
People also relate the word kawung to suwung that can mean emptiness: in this matter suwung is more about self alignment, absence of sense-driven wanting. A person in this suwung state in positive interpretation means someone who is already free from his/her craving for worldly interests, s/he is able to calmly and consciously prioritise among physical, mental, intellectual and spiritual proportions with no doubt or confusion. S/he is in high level of awareness of a “perfect” human being.
In Java region that kind of person is not necessarily a saint or a priest or a bikhu(ni) or a nun; s/he might be a farmer, a batik maker, a herbal seller, a taxi driver, an employee, a housewife, a leader etc, just whoever is willing to self align through what they do everyday regardless their professions. Not a few of them were “bad” people hearing the inner calling, deciding to quit their wrong doings and living “new” life.
At younger age, I met more of that type around us in my hometown. Now fewer and fewer people are interested to achieve that level because life pace is now becoming faster with the “tsunami of information” and life needs are “forcing” people to be constantly in alert mode with the high competition to “survive certain life style”.
Not much I can do this time. I try to breath more slowly, pay attention on shift of emotions through body reaction (my body will never betray me) then acknowledge the emotion whatever it is. Time flies like a wind sometimes like a storm, I choose to ride it, not to get dragged by it. Not easy but doable.
How light this head is after ranting!
Fun fact about the honourable batik makers:
- Once a batik maker pulls the “canting” filled with hot wax on a sheet of fabric, it will start developing lines or dots as the hot wax gets dry fast and block the fabric. That is why they work very carefully to avoid unplanned error. Correcting unplanned error is more tedious in batik making process compared to drawing the patterns with canting. Zero accident policy applies.
- Batik making is a highly contemplative activity (almost) like meditation. That is what makes many of batik makers especially those senior and/or with high quality artisanal works have good self alignment.
- Some batik makers don’t need to draw the planned pattern with pencil on the fabric. They are the highly skilled, the artist, the master of what they are doing.
- It takes approximately 5 months to complete a piece of two sided hand-made batik of 210-250cm long. Those batik makers also do household chores in between their batik making activities as they mostly don’t earn good money. If you buy hand made batik, please give extra dollars to share some comfort.
- Majority of batik makers are female. Very few of them are young.
Sweet Surprise
Unforeseen, unplanned—
Life’s rich: men, events, chances
Bring moments of truth.
—
This evening I met up with two Saigonese friends— not planned, not predicted. We sent each other messages and found that we three were in Hanoi and decided to have dinner together.
His message to me: “I’ll pick you up once you’re prepared”. Her message to me: “Let me know when you arrive at hotel, I’ll kidnap you”. And they both came in the same taxi with different intension. 😁
For years we have always wanted to meet in Ho Chi Minh City to eat south pho bo and life preferred pulling us together in Hanoi for north pho bo.
A happy rendezvous! All was good. The only minus was that I had much noodle as part of dinner. 🙃 See you in HCMC!
I hope to get other sweet surprises. Or at least I commit to feel good no matter what so any surprises will be sweet.
Salaam.
Payday
Payday, Beloved,
Crossroads to 4 directions—
6 o’clock, good bye!
—
Ah yes! I’ve been paid with how a group of people feel proud of achieving what they thought would never happen for my persistence and never-ending-annoying questions and reminders. I’ve been paid with sweet smiles for greeting the cleaning ladies and security guards and colleagues and neighbours. I’ve been paid with my family and friends’ laughter for the jokes that were not even funny. I’ve been paid with my colleagues’ flooding emoji for my “drunken” fingers sending auto-correct silliness. I’ve been paid by many many of those I’ve never thought of making me so light hearted more than dollars and cents.
Hey! Don’t get me wrong! I’ve also been paid with bitter rejections and secret smirks for what I did wrongLY and/or I did inappropriateLY.
And hey! I’ve also been actually paid with wages and benefits for working in a company.
Everything is worth paying and everyday is a payday.
Never look back to what was wrongly spent, that’s my payday commitment!
Ah how I love my payday!
Of course! Who’s not?
May all beings be happy.
A Bridge
A bridge, Beloved,
Transitioning melody
Between two islands—
—
It takes logical thinking to bridge the gaps — where she is, where she wants to be. And, honesty is the right logic to know how to get from one state to another.
?
Can anyone be dishonest to one’s self? Yes? How long? Long enough to sink before reaching the destination.
May all beings be happy.
Greeting
Greeting, Beloved,
Cool breeze sweeping the valley
Moisturised by dew—
—
Dream Home (lunch break)
Dream home, Beloved,
Sitting with all senses on,
Capturing moments—
—
Lunch break + very very heavy rain = early wish of birthday getaway to come true!
To be continued with more destinations in 2028, 2029, 2030, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2035, 2036, 2037, 2038, 2039, 2040, 2041, 2042, 2043, 2044, 2045, 2046, 2047, 2048, 2049, 2050, 2051, 2052, 2053, 2054, 2055, 2056, 2057, 2058, 2059, 2060, 2061, 2062, 2063, 2064, 2065…. As if I knew how long I will wander around here? I hope to live as long as time is mentally and physically enjoyable with family and friends without bothering them.
Long life, fresh and sane!
Then came the calculation part…. A lot of coins to spend to comfortably celebrate that way in those particular places. Easy! Just need a clover pendant to make it happen. 😝
Thanks for the rain and daydream. I know there is more than meets the eye! Life is so rich and I accept all the gifts.
Clay But Not A Kendi
Clay art, Beloved,
Hugged by earth, hardened by sun
Livened by heaven—
—
In Java island clay was commonly used not only to make art work but also as material to make kitchenware, eating utensils, plant pots, etc. Kasongan, Yogyakarta is one of famous villages of clay work industry in which different types of clay art and utensils are mass produced or customised as per buyers’ request.
One clay utensil that I often used in my childhood was kendi, a clay jug used to contain drinking water – it makes drinking water smell subtly earthy and feels cooly fresh. Children would dispense water from the jug to glass to drink; adult would usually just lift the kendi slightly above mouth level and dispense the water directly to their open mouth without touching the tip of the kendi mouth to their mouth — whoa so difficult to explain!
Kendi is not however commonly used as the function is now replaced by plastic containers and refrigerator. It is now mostly used in Javanese traditional ceremony or in some households that still want to keep some traditional way of life. I prepare 5 kendi to compliment the fridge in my Javanese home — 5 kendi are ready before the dining table is ready 😁
Kendi is actually an acronym (kerata basa in Javanese grammar) of “kendalining diri” (kendalining: control, diri: self) or self control. In Javanese culture kerata basa is used to tie a good teaching to what people is doing. So, practically kendi is not a personal utensil like spoon and fork, anyone can share it. Through the name Javanese know that using kendi, there shall be some self control applied. When someone drinks directly from the clay jug, one should do it carefully to minimise the risk of dropping the kendi and break it; and not greedily gulp all water as other family members or friends also need fresh water in that hot day.
Culturally (at least according to Greek mythology and Quran) human being’s physical is created from clay —like kendi— that is given soul by the Source and so we are breathing. So it is natural that human beings are fundamentally attached to earth. Yet how much ever human beings want to stay as firm, strong, young, beautiful like the clay coming from earth, it is not possible. There is breathing that fans the “fire of life” in the clay body and when it stops “fanning”, the clay body stops functioning.
Can’t live forever, some like to play “forever pretending”. Pretending to be young or beautiful or firm with plastic surgery. Pretending to be happy with some drugs. Pretending to be more precious than others with fake luxury and conspiracy. Pretending this and that.
Ah! That game! That’s fun indeed! Yet it is not doable for me. Being human is not an easy job, pretending makes it even difficult and complicated and unnecessary. So please count me out. 💃🏽
Hey! If some people want to live forever or stay young, firm, strong, beautiful and fully functional; they’d better be a kendi. 😂
Salaam….
Crossroads
Crossroads, Beloved,
A while gauging where to go—
Follow the North Star.
—
Today’s conversation with one best friend was a bit nostalgic. She talked about how she went to spiritual class (very common in my country to do so for religion or non-religion based teachings) until finally she quit at 45. Her reason was disappointment to teachers. She asked about me and I said quit at 30’s and my disappointment was to myself.
A stubborn student, I wouldn’t listen to what teachers told me to believe or to do. I would ask questions then believed only when choosing to believe; even with good explanation, I wouldn’t believe if not interested to believe.
One example of the fool was when a particular teacher gave “daily task” to recite “Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem”, I didn’t do it even he only asked me to recite it 10x a day, while the other two were 100x a day. “No, Teacher. Why do I have to do it? I already read it as part of Alfatihah recitation in my daily prayer, that’s more than 10x a day,” said I. It was when praying was five times a day for me, oftentimes 7 times!
Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem is a sacred word uttered by Muslim or most traditional non-Muslim Javanese when starting an activity. It means “In the name of Allah The Gracious The Merciful”, some interpret it as “On behalf of Allah The Gracious The Merciful”. By reading it the reader is expected to only do good thing with good intension with love. The teacher also said that reading it we were doing self alignment: align the self with the true self, to be true to ourselves, to easily make decision and to cut short confusion and to always be blessed, to blend action with good intension.
Amazingly all teachers understood the fool and just gave a lot of smiles and books to read which annoyed her more and more. I became frustrated seeing the two good friends gained fast track understanding of life. I decided to quit then did whatever was fun fun fun ignoring the essence of being human being.
Only years later I found that self alignment is very important and I was sorry for realising it late. I finally got it why those two good friends were so peaceful while I was still struggling with almost everything. It was also the year when we found that that dear teacher passed away of old age.
Now? Learning to care more about inner journey and well being. Whatever happens to me is a consequence of my decision. If the decision is aligned with my true self, it leads to success. If the decision is false and against my true self, it leads to lesson learnt. Lesson learnt leads to better decision. Better decision leads to success. Success to me is not merely material gain, it can be simply being able to smile in tough time. This simple lesson is a result of years of battle for a stupid person like me.
My best friend asked me how now to deal with self alignment esp when in confusion.
Me: I recite Bismillahirrahmanirrahiem cumulatively 300x before night sleep.
BF: Why? Did that teacher come virtually and ask you to?
Me: No. I found that this word is my best to strengthen self-alignment between good intention and action.
BF: Why 300x? He said 10x.
Me: He discounted the price. I’m 30x more valuable than his appraisal.
BF: Arrogant fool!
Me: I’m just a fool.
BF: There are two of us.
Lesson learnt: Always find a way to see my fool not others’. Always find a way to laugh at my own self not at others’.
Alfatihah.
So I Can Meet You
I don’t want to race.
Only safety that I wish
So I can meet you.
—
Dream Home (ranting)
Dream home, Beloved,
A place where nature meets hearts;
Hearts warmly greet souls—
—
The conversation with a long lost friend came to a topic of “where we want to live if ending living alone?”
Living in Singapore was never part of my dream. A visit in 2010 gave me impression that I would die of hunger in a week with Indonesia salary. 😁
Now this city is a lovely second home; my impression has changed. I won’t die because of hunger but I will die because of loneliness if I stay single retiring here. I still can’t find enough friends like those in home country. There are three but all of them will retire in Bali and New Zealand sooner than me.
Residing in a landed property where gardening and backyard dining is affordable is a preference, yet I don’t have the luxury of living in such place here. And I don’t want to die alone in a locked condo found rotten after days or even weeks. Oh God, please protect me from such horrible thing. Amen….
F: I’ve always wanted to live in Ubud and it will happen very soon. I’ll open a spa with all traditional herbal from all over Indonesia. I’ll quit my job soon. I want to live my own life as me, no one can tell me to do this and that anymore! No bloody politics anymore! Visit me often! You’ll find my spa super special! I’ll give you discount! Be a regular customer! Hey! You once wanted to live in Thailand?
Me: Someone informed me about a good property in low price near my favourite hotel in Ayutthaya. Yet Thai have controversial life style I’m not comfortable with in a way. I’m too simple, sometimes too honest and can be against those status-oriented that I might not be able to adapt well. Not a true dream! Hey! Actually love to live in Kyoto!
F: You’ll die in three months after you complete second round of shrine, temple and ancient house hopping! 😂
Me: Dying of walking! 😂
What a refreshing conversation! And yes, I’ll visit her spa soon! 😍
Lesson learnt: Will only live with those I love and loving me where home is a real feel. No excuse.
Salaam…. 💝
Not Lost
I’m lost, Beloved.
This maze takes me a hostage
I need to grow wings.
—
You might feel lost yet don’t get lazed. Open your eyes. This is not that maze maze. It is just an abandoned garden where trees are growing high touching the sky blocking the sun ray, grasses are growing wild covering the paths disguising directions. Look! There is something blinking from afar. Follow it, it might be a star. Or at least there is something moving you out of where you are.
Firstly open eyes! Your cat is getting impatient to go for adventure. Don’t let it leave you. This cat is a precious traveling companion indeed.
WAKE UP!!!
💝
after morning prayer
An Artist
Artist, Beloved,
Proportional and perfect?
No. Flowing river—
—
When someone is so much a master of something that no labels or names of techniques are needed to pinpoint what s/he’s doing to perfect completion, s/he be an artist.
When will this human being be the artist of her own life? At least the artist of her own breathing…. It takes not only talent for her to become an artist, maybe she needs courage to be wrongly perceived! Maybe she should be at least misunderstood that she seldom breathes right?
😁
Salaam.
Ruined Through History
Forbidden city not.
Imaginary power
Ruined through history—
—
What’s built on weak foundation will collapse. Lies, betrayal, tyranny, iniquity adorn the strong marble slabs and zhennan wood logs, remembered through time.
Life is undeniably karmic: what is sown is what is reaped.
So satisfying to see time reveals the truth!
Salaam.
Self Discovery (ranting)
Point zero, my love
Here now, unshakeable ground
After the earthquakes—
—
I’ve been a full time thinker for the past one week…. Thanks to the physical weakness brought by the virus! 🥰 And here is the ranting abridged 🙃
Life has always suggested me to walk through places where paradoxical situations exist and has made me weigh what life path should be chosen. Luckily life has always sent me angels (fallen angels included 😄) who remind me that life isn’t only about exploiting what’s considered lucrative and physically pleasant; it’s also about exploring what’s wising-up and spiritually enriching.
When I was young; books, courses, lectures, workshops were kind of “subscription” I had to shape a level of mental toughness. Yet there was exhaustion and anti-climax for intensity every now and then (good deed included 😄). Losing faith, difficulty to trust human beings and skepticism to almost everything triggered me to deconstruct my own mindset.
Another “point zero” came and brought a decision to take a course inspired by one friend named Eva (not one of my close friends but she is definitely one trusted human being). I promised to myself that this would be my LAST course to finally be unshakeable me.
I flew to Edinburgh and was driven from the airport to a place called Chisholme House by Mr Brix who became an excellent opening of my self re-discovery. He introduced me to the richness of self re-discovery even before the course started. That was when I felt so lucky to have read Ibn Arabi, Rumi and English literature although not extensively and to have learnt Javanese wisdom that is considered “local” by many of my friends (which I always disagree) as Mr Brix’ languages were using all those keywords in the repertoire from my literature reading and cultural wisdom. Indeed Mr Brix was a “gate” welcoming me to a true friendship or fellowship bonded by humanity.
The course was simply daily schedules for us to an experiencing life or “human beings who work” — physically, mentally, spiritually, socially in connection with their own self, other human beings and nature. Of course the classes was the superb! Collins, Hiroko and Aaron were excellent facilitators and to me they are role models of ordinary yet impressive human being! Collins was a loving husband and father cum the best administrator. Hiroko was a loving mother and wife cum an excellent painter! Aaron was an excellent chef cum wise philosopher! 💝
It was so normal a life that I felt so blessed. We woke up in the morning then took a bath or at least took ablution. We started the day with a group meditation — everyone: the course participants, kitchen staffs, office staffs, garden staffs, etc except those who overslept. Then we had breakfast — English breakfast! After that we started the class; the staffs started their duties. After that we had tea break then WORK! Work meant doing the assigned chores (garden, kitchen, house, laundry). After that class again then English lunch! Then lunch break for one hour. Class again. Mediation again. Work again. Afternoon tea. Personal time (we could go to the hill, forest, sleep, talk to staffs or participants, whatever). English dinner. Discussion time. Free time. Sleep…. Repeat.
Completing the “self re-discovery”, I found that life is like riding bicycle, balancing while moving. I lose, I win. I fall in love, I break heart. I get sick, I get cured. I trust, I distrust. I think, I feel. I work, I take a rest.
Balancing is about knowing the limit. I lose against someone/something but I gain wisdom. I fall in love at the same time I have to accept the unpredictable responses. I get sick then I will be cured. I trust with or without reasoning yet can also distrust because of the true or false reasoning. I think based on logic yet when logic doesn’t count, only feeling of acceptance will neutralise the situation. And, when I am tired, I should take time-out. Just like that!
And I actually graduated with flying colours from many “extra” lessons: doing laundry, washing dishes, house keeping, potato harvesting, making bread, cooking English lunch, preparing dining table, raking dry leaves, going up and down the hills in the rain, walking in the moorland, listening to silence, listening to others’ opinions, identifying and recognising true intelligent people, trusting the right people at the right time in the right place, respecting stupid idiot (myself included 😂), taking a bath in the cold morning, and more and more!
And yes, that was the last course in my life. Ordinary yet impressive, like what I always want myself to be to and for those having in touch with me.
I want to be back there not as a participant but as a guest in the English breakfast or lunch bringing a best friend who deserves an ordinary yet impressive life.
…. 💕
Thanks for today! 😴
Salaam…
—
Torii
Torii, Beloved,
Opening from here to here
To be entered now—
—
I’ll always make tomorrow morning inevitable in life like a torii that connects here now and another here now. These happy steps are walking from torii to torii, with another pair of steps inevitably aligning with me.
Salaam.
💝
Negation Is (Now) Good
Negative, Beloved,
New paradigm that builds life;
Breathing is blessings.
—
I thought that virus was reluctant to approach me until that funny doctor said bitterly to me last week “The Gov will SMS directly to you but these sudden symptoms give me a hint. Take care.”
After some inconsistent (+) and (-), being a lethargic patient (the virus pulled all muscles down) and a slow thinker (MZ sent me a confusing email of mine) of home quarantine, I’m back to my own self!
Thanks for toning this pride down. I was not that healthy.
Thanks for curing me. I’m dependent on You.
💝
Nowhere (good memory)
Nowhere, Beloved,
To depart. Wait for next train.
Look around and pray.
—
Checking my old photos, I saw an almost forgotten one. A station that was giving me the most alarming experience in that trip.
Back in April 2017 I was in a solo travel for 20 days in EU region when the train from Lyon left me no choice but changing train in Bourg-en-Bresse. It was rainy and windy, almost 5pm local time, some passengers got off with me but all of them went out of the station (perhaps to go home) and only I stayed to wait for the next train at 7:15pm.
For almost 45 minutes and no one was coming. A group of young men entered the other side of the railway. They sounded chatting and giggling. I tried to avoid looking at them. It was my first time feeling insecure in the trip.
I continued reading my book (now pretending) as I felt so uneasy with the noise across the lines.
“Hi! Lady!” I looked around. No woman but me. Damn! They called me.
I didn’t say anything, my eyes looked back to my book.
“Hi! Hi!” Don’t say anything, Rike. Don’t look at them. My left hand slowly moved down to my Swiss knife in the inner pocket of the jacket.
Only prayer in heart and some strategies that were taught by my brothers on how to use the Swiss knife and simple kicks to defend myself from bad guys.
“Lady!” They shouted at me more loudly after some time.
“Lady!” The guys laughed out loud among their French words. I saw them waved their hands to me. They whistled at me. I wondered why no one was here but those guys. In my country there are always many people selling things around railway station. There are always tricycle riders moving around.
When those guys got even merrier and happier, I saw a shadow moved the tall doors behind the guys.
A tall black lady drew a trunk and went across line 1 to line 2 and to line 3 where I was almost ready to hurt any of the guys if they approached me.
The guys stopped their noise. The lady walked towards me.
I didn’t feel better. This lady could stop the guys’ laughters and whistles, she must have been able to do stronger thing than that including killing me— I had to be alert!
“Hi! Going to Geneva?” A soft voice greeted me.
“Hi! Ya! Are you?”
“Yes! The train will arrive soon.”
“Thanks God!”
“No, it is just the schedule.”
😁
We eventually were sitting in the same cart. She was working in the UN headquarters and traveled back from personal leave. She said I was lucky to take this train, not later one that might have made me encounter with more men in the station unluckily often drunk.
“Thanks God!“
“No, you just need to choose the right timing.”
😁
I almost forgot that I met this smart wise tough lady. Wherever you are, Madam, I wish you good luck! Thank you for saving me with your timeliness.
Salaam.
rike jokanan 
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