Flower, Beloved Triggers moods or decoys dreams. You are, Beloved The beauty behind beauty. Sheer in the dark to sharp eyes—
When seeing this flower for the first time, I was wondering if it was plastic or real flower. That particular shape in the garland of real jasmine was still plastic in my head because when browsed in the Net, it was still found as plastic flower.
Until when found in Tekka Market. Oh goodness! It is a real flower! This flower exists! The flower seller said it is not easy to find and many use plastic to replace it for flower garland. No wonderrrrrr!
Browsing browsing browsing….
Ms Wiki said it is Calotropis Gigantea! And it is not something new. It’s been a flower scattered in front of the very eyes of mine back in dear homeland! We call it kapuk duri where I grew up; it is called biduri or widuri in Indonesian language.
You simply didn’t know that flower is hidden inside its crown, Self!
Where are you, oh dear? Mountains and oceans are passed By with beauty glued As memory. Beloved, Where’s the next stop? Peek a boo!
When I was young; I joined spiritual workshop, class, training; read spiritual books, journal, articles; listened to spiritual preaching, cassettes, radio programs; name more —mostly informal, some non-formal, one formal not finished oh I’m blessed that It wasn’t. Whenever I was asked why I did, I would say “I wanna know God.”
Has anyone experienced this looking-sophisticated-but-actually-comical thing? Thanks God (s/he’d like to be censored actually) I’m not alone in this zero to zigzagging journey— from being very excitedly curious to being a drunken master. 🤪
What a blessed journey it was! If I’m supposed to tell that young me when starting through the reading of those looking-sophisticated-yet-actually-comical random materials, I would say “Hey, Lady Haha! You should have a map but a destination is paramount!”
And I still feel so blessed!
May all haha moments be deciphered. 😊
* refer to the video of “How To Dad” in “How To Teach A Kid Curse Words”.
Bruised and scarred she is; A stained-glass window to see Both sides of her world.
22:22 / Sunday – June 6, 2021
I thought all of those were wounds and warts until observing carefully. I’ve been living with a beautiful stained-glass window which puts colours and gives unique perspectives when seeing inside and outside. As long as it doesn’t derail from being a human being, I think I’m blessed.
Where to go? Let’s go! River never knows but flows. This is estuary, Beloved, sea welcomes you. Black to blue is true. Slow down....
One of my best friends is flying to Bali this morning. She’ll live in her most favourite island for how long only Heaven knows.
We knew she has dreamt of living in Ubud without knowing how to materialise it as she’s a full time employee in Jakarta and her job requires her to sit in front of her computer for 8 hours a day 5 days a week. Bali was just a holiday or weekend escapade that helps refresh before going back to the busy metropolis.
We had a 3-hour call last night, celebrating her flight to her paradise! She’s happy. I’m happy for her.
How can I not believe that this pandemic is a blessing? It has moved someone’s cubicle to her living room then to her mother’s home, and soon to a beautiful place where dreams have lingered for Heaven knows how long. I can imagine how serene and fun her productivity will be!
Of being human: Letting others be human Although for a while.
If only human being is being human, giving up other predicates just for a while. If they give up the wrong concept of being religious, maybe no one will need to say “I’ll do whatever I want” because everyone respects everybody.
She walks to a place,
Knowing it or not. She’s timed,
Knowing it or not.
One used to want to be a doctor then changed to be an engineer then to a flight attendant then to a journalist then to a teacher then to a writer then to be rich then to be happy and peaceful then to be a human being…. Maybe someday she will change, who knows?
What is in the spread?
A bunch of grub and wisdom
Don’t leave any bit.
It is Lebaran today.
I put what I cooked on the table (the only table in the house), took picture of it and sent to those with whom I would love to enjoy it together on Hari Raya: family, close friends and some colleagues. This year, we’re virtually enjoying it through pictures or video calls! What an exciting morning!
Rice cake (ketupat or lontong in Indonesia), sayur labu siam (chayotes in coconut milk), opor ayam (chicken opor, the yellow soup), beef rendang and sambel goreng kentang (potato sambal), kerupuk (crackers), nuts, sweet cookies from Bengawan Solo, and of course fruits! Enjoy!
And what’s under the spread? Table cloth of batik with “nitik” motif.
Nitik is a Yogyakartan-style batik which is traditionally dark colour (sogan in Javanese) with lighter colour background compared to Solo style. Nitik is the shortened structure of “nggawe (making) titik (dots)” that immediately shows the appearance of the motif, thousands of dots forming some geometrical patterns.
Historically this motif has been believed as the simplicity and humbleness of the designers and makers who were ordinary women in the villages which were located outside of city centre (palace). This motif came into palace environment after certain period of time and finally integrated into many designs.
Interestingly nitik is a Javanese word that can also mean niteni or marking based on data or facts. So, simple and humble of human beings character can show something bigger if gathered and analysed carefully. Ah my…. Why should it be that complex? Just enjoy the batik beauty, Beloved.
When moments collide,
Time slows down, space enlarges.
Based on solar calendar, it is my father’s birthday today. Based on lunar calendar it is his death commemoration.
Mathematically the two calculations are crossing, astronomically celestial bodies are in moving in harmony, momentarily it’s just a coincidence. To his family it’s a special moment— celebrating a point when an important human being’s life in the world is started and ended.
God bless you, Bapak. Happy 0th birthday! Are you watching me? Thank you. But no need, just take a rest, I’m safe now. 😘
One awaited day,
A line to end and to start
A cycle. Nom nom nom!
This is the second Ramadhan without going out of this island. It feels serene. It is Lebaran (Ied) tomorrow. Many Muslim feel it is a happy sad time to end Ramadhan knowing that it is when they will celebrate a big day, realising that they might not meet with the next Ramadhan. For most Muslim Ramadhan is one of the most prominent and favorite months of the year with different reasons.
While it is culture that nurtures the vibe of Ramadhan in someone’s life, at the same time it is one’s personal experience that defines how meaningful and beautiful it is in one’s life.
My best Ramadhan was when I was a teenager. Ramadhan meant long holiday, browsing around from one “langgar” (small hut designated to pray together and teach how to read the Quran, usually won’t be used for Friday or ‘Ied prayer like mosques is, I never found extreme teaching in any of langgar I visited by then) to another, from one mosque to another looking for which prayer was the shortest and the most crowded with children to play with after. We would meet new friends, new games and new snacks every Ramadhan!
We also loved gathering food on the day for breakfast time when finally all the food could not be enjoyed. After fasting for 3 consecutive days, you can’t eat more than half of your normal. Your belly shrink! It didn’t stop us from gathering food though. Greedy child!
Clean if not new clothes is a recommended to wear in Ied. The clean and/or new clothes symbolise the self as spiritually newly born and pure gold after being “burnt” in the hottest month of the twelve. I loved it, I loved it, I loved it! I don’t buy clothes in Lebaran anymore, that’s not excited anymore and it has become an impulsive buying.
Ramadhan doesn’t feel that fun and full of adventures anymore to me. Aside from because of living in a place where legal restrictions will make people more citizen rather than human beings, no excitement of celebration involving cheerful crowd except scheduled and arranged by the authority; as an adult mature I “should” put more “less innocent” meaning in order to adjust with what the surroundings expect from me. How time flies but memories stay implanted in one’s remembrance.
In the opinion of this “aging me” fasting isn’t only about no eating, no drinking, no sex on the day. It is more about a structured self management: when to push the gas pedal and when to kick the brake. That’s life to me now: how effective the brake is working, not how outstanding the gas pedal is.
Anyway, Lebaran is also when Muslim should turn into butterfly after being a cocoon for one month. If they don’t, they should not look into the mirror. How could you be a cute caterpillar forever?
See how happily and how long a butterfly will live. No doubt that once one lies eggs, the next cycles will repeat soon. I myself am ready to eat big on the Lebaran’s day; a caterpillar mode on. Let’s cook tonight then eat tomorrow!
Under the green leaf,
Crawls then sleeps. Wake up with love.
Fly, Butterfly, fly.
Metamorphosis of egg to caterpillar to cocoon before butterfly is beautiful and relevant with the cycles of human being’s life in all aspect.
How someone finds a potential and amplifies the potential with any resources that one can think of such as schooling, taking courses/training/workshop, reading, listening, watching, contemplating, consultancy…. Oh some others who don’t have clear thinking include their actions of cheating, stealing, breaking the law, stepping the integrity lines, backstabbing, etc.
It is like witnessing the eggs sheltered by some shade of plants and with the weather and pressure, they are pushed to crawl out of the shells. Here it comes one hungry caterpillar, playing happily, eating this, eating that, eating these, eating those, eating everything. This caterpillar can only stop eating when one feels numb and one’s fullness melts away and wraps itself to sleep. The things one consumed liquifies it like ice thawed in a plastic bag.
Sleep soundly, hungry caterpillar and don’t wake up until someday your fluid self come into form, embodied into a totally different creature. The butterfly you are!
There was a time when an employee is so preoccupied with what one is doing, as if one is wrapped in a system that trapped one doing the same thing like no choice is given. One does it everyday until finally not having to think of how to do it already. One might feel the job is ingrained as a thought, a feeling, an intuition, movement, the life itself. Trained skills and talents make an art, the integrity shapes wisdom. A job—when has become a dedication— will not betray a human being.
Hope someday mine becomes one. It is never about how high I climb but about how deep I dive into the commitment of making what I’m doing a wisdom and benefits for those we promise to protect and support.
I think it is ok to be one hungry caterpillar, looking greedy and craving for more knowledge, experiences, adventures. As long as it knows where poison lies, it is safe to chew and swallow anything. No no not anything…. Select wisely, Beloved.
I remember Steve Jobs said “Stay foolish, stay hungry”. That person really knew what he was doing. Many people might have thought negatively about him, laughed at what he was doing, called him crazy, kicked him out for having different ideas, backstabbed him to stop his annoyance. Those people just didn’t know that that guy was a hungry caterpillar processing into a cocoon before butterfly. Amazing human being! God bless time when he was alive and forever.
Hmm…. Perhaps he truthfully made himself hungry by fasting and foolish by learning and unlearning.
God bless you, Steve Jobs and the people around his belief about staying foolish and hungry.
Silent nights have come
To sit still and greet the heart.
Please forgive me, Love.
Ramadhan month is almost over. Many Muslim will spend the last 10 days of Ramadhan in the mosques. They focus on the zikr (remembrance) by enchanting attributes of God and reciting the Quran. They call it i’tikaf— literally meaning staying put or sitting still, commonly understood as retreat in the mosque to worship the God recommended at the last 10 days of Ramadhan. How beautiful those nights are!
How lucky people who have the time to spend with themselves and look in to their own inner journey.
I’m not a devoted one so I don’t do the i’tikaf anymore. For retreat I prefer attending discussion or meditation session or just being alone contemplating or just wandering at the nature.
I feel lucky that this past one year has been a kind of long retreat through the working from home during pandemic. I’ve got sufficient time to do what I missed doing for almost the past 12 years in which back to back trips were a cup of tea, and do it slowly with (sometimes not full) awareness.
Cooking own food, washing own clothes, cleaning the whole house alone, running or walking at the river bank, biking around midnight time, painting, singing out loud at lunch time, writing journals and blog, watering my plants and talking to them, and so on…. All thanks to working from home—
Thanks to Life for all those. Thanks for everything.
At the same time I made a series of mistakes to someone. Some things are misunderstood naturally. It’s gonna be ok. I hope Life forgives me and lets my journey be easier.