Your name, Beloved: Air blanketing fragrant space, Soil firming the stance—
—
Shakespeare said “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”
He isn’t wrong. Yet he isn’t always right.
I call a name when rain is sweetly pouring down, call another name when day is scorching too bright and hot….
Why is it easier to call your name than my own? Is your name so strongly rooted that only it I can remember when it rains? Is it your name or is it you that stays with me?
Oh you….
Oh your name….
Salaam.
is the flying butterfly not anymore the caterpillar greedily eating before sleeping? am I still the un-named baby born by my mother? 💗
The depth of silence is As deep As ocean of possibilities. Shaken, the ocean will splash Drops of gifts.
Time once revealed When the gifts will appear. It once said There is a moment in time.
Space once revealed Where the gifts will arrive. It once said There is a point in space.
Spacetime once revealed Why the gifts will engender. It once said There are reasons in life: Unfortunately wrapped In colours and shapes, Often times disguising things: A crow into a dove, A wolf into a sheep, A dumpsite into a garden, A villainess into a heroine, An evil witch into a kind queen, Bent into straight— Misleading this traveler’s direction.
Once it was said There is One That she will find Somewhere some time only if She minds.
Dear, Light. Only You can reveal True colours True shapes True hearts True reasons.
Be deeply silent Even in the crowd Where ocean of possibilities Is shaken In this spacious time.
Hey! The gift is relatively fair, Beloved. Be ready.
—
🌊
when window nook is ready for daydreaming, no book, no paper, no gadget – just her welcoming gifts
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…
—
farmhouse where participants and volunteers slept during the “Self Discovery” in Chisholme Institute (there are male house, female house and couple wing) – missing the place and good friends there 💝
the main house where we meditate, contemplate, brainstorm, do household chores, enjoy meal and good company during the “Self Discovery”
‘The Monument to Man”: this place is one of reminders for me to stay on this track: a track where life abundance isn’t always represented by or captured through social high class and luxury show off – ‘ve lived among those with abundance yet humbly bowing to the underprivileged – thank you for this decent life 🎀
hi, Edinburgh! I’m sure I’ll be back 🥰 next time with someone I love with heart and soul 😘
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.
💝
torii from pp #31 of James Norbury’s “Big Panda and Tiny Dragon”
Duhai, Indonesia. Serupa apapun engkau, kau adalah tempat lahirku. Walaupun saran dan nasehat bertaburan untuk menjadi pemegang status PR di rumah keduaku ini, aku tak goyah. Nggak papa…. PR atau bukan PR passport-ku tetap Indonesia. Hanya cinta dan hidup-mati saja yang boleh membuatku jadi PR atau pindah kewarganegaraan. Selain itu, no way!
Indonesiaku, terima-kasih telah menjadi tempat lahirku dan tempatku belajar hal-hal pokok untuk menjadi manusia utama. Kalau aku dilahirkan dan dibesarkan di negara lain, mungkin aku jadi orang yang bermewah-mewah dan tidak down to earth.
Indonesiaku, kemanapun aku pergi, kamulah darah yang mengalir di tubuh ini. Dimanapun aku tinggal, engkau tetap menjadi tujuan pertama pulang atau liburanku (ya setahun satu atau dua kali deh). Dengan siapapun aku bergaul, kamu tetap warna primerku.
Kecintaanku padamu bukan pada para pejabat buruk yang mengurusi ketatanegaraan. Kecintaanku tulus pada tanah, air, udara, rakyat dan makhluk di sekitarnnya.
Merdeka!
what a coincidence! this number is really escorting me this year
💝didn’t attend this year’s flag-raising ceremony in the embassy because of this cute virus 💝 next year I will, bismillah!
Broken clay jar, Love, A love letter torn apart. Message of a heart—
—
How broken you are, I will always love and respect you as a clay jar that records history and memory, in the hands of an ignorant they become waste and rubbish, in the hands of wise lessons and wisdom.
I’ll take your broken clay jar to kintsugi craftsmen in near future trip just in case they can also repair broken clay jar. 🤭
Otherwise, I’ll keep it in my mini cabinet of curiosity to be a reminder that a heart is so fragile or so broken and so worth handling with care.
Listen, Beloved, Humming angels keep singing Song of union. Ears can’t hear, too low a voice. Heart can, swayed by the wind though.
Root deep, Beloved. The song vibrates in the earth, Making grass and flowers bloom, Brightening up the meadow— Listen, Beloved.
—
It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?
Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.
A lady is walking to the lake. An empty clay jar sits on her waist. Her hair is hanging loose, Listening to love songs, waving to the sky.
Sitting, she looks down Saying hi to her reflection on and on. My hair, thanks for growing long And for listening to my love songs.
A lady is walking back to home. A clay jar full of water sits on her waist. Her hair is waving by the wind: Spreading patchouli fragrance, calming down the lane.
Walking, she looks forward Humming her best love songs. My hair, thanks for spreading good scent And making my life so fragrant. My hair, thanks for being silken And keeping this flame ardent. My hair, grow grow long. My hair, listen to these love songs. My hair, stay here Until home is welcoming me.
—
Each and every one deserves love and appreciation. Today I took longer time to scrutinise and caress my hair; this stubborn tough protein deserves love and appreciation, too.
A hymn for my hair is not too much, an extra love after shampoo to clean, conditioner to soften and sometimes hair dye to match the mood.
my definition of beautiful day: long hair after treatment at the weekend 🥰 (RC Gorman’s artwork, from Pinterest)
Love makes heart full. Love makes heart empty. Love makes heart laugh. Love makes heart cry. Love makes heart closer. Love makes heart distant. Love makes heart trust. Love makes heart distrust. Love makes heart bloom. Love makes heart wither. Love makes heart healed. Love makes heart broken. Love makes heart warm. Love makes heart cold. Love makes heart enlightened. Love makes heart blinded. Love makes heart beautiful. Love makes heart wicked. Love makes heart bright. Love makes heart weary. Love makes heart sing. Love makes heart scold. Love makes heart write love poem. Love makes heart compose hate speech. Love makes heart recite ballads. Love makes heart scream hoax. Love makes heart look foolish. Love makes heart look angry. Love makes heart love more. Love makes heart hate more.
Love makes heart swing like a pendulum between two ends.
You say love is You say love is not You ask what is love
Love makes space To those willing To feel, To taste, To experience Millions of what’s-nots To know The what-is.
We decide Which space To be filled With what.
This is about love— An unlimited edition But still Difficult to grab.
—
missing home where love is as simple as opening the door ajar to let the breeze in – please bless me oh Allah…. this poor soul 💝 thanks for everything
This love, Beloved, A battle to win the heart Zooming in and out—
—
How distant are we? Never away, just the lines and dots that project substantial distance. Once perspective is well understood, near far is never an issue as all are cluster of objects in the same dimension.
Yet how well is perspective projection can be accepted by this foolish brain?
Not easy to do it well. It is to play the focal length. It is a long battle to win the heart; is it my heart? Or your heart? Or both? It depends on what the computation is based. Can only wish it is based on mathematics that contains literature for accuracy without beauty kills hope. And living without hope is walking zombie.
💝
red torii: balance that stands out, mercury painted to battle the climates, poetic geometry
You Have got everything: A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Yet in all daydreams of closeness and connection….
I wish to give You a warm kiss, Yet impossible As You are too high Up the sky;
I hope to give You a pretty daffodil Yet unlikely As You are too disguised Behind the curtain;
I want to spread for You a good breakfast Yet too early As You wake up too late In another day;
I want to paint You a red torii Yet too trivial As You know torii much Better than me;
I am writing You secret love poems Yet in vain As You don’t even care They exist.
Beloved, Breath is with what I count life. Breath is in what I save love. Breath is on what I paint faith. A warm kiss, A pretty daffodil, A good breakfast, A red torii, And secret love poems Have livened this breathing Although You have got A sweetest smile, A cheery hello, A loving look, A warm hug, A good kiss All in loving care.
Beloved, I only wish You behind the curtain See me breathing For and with You.
—
This long weekend of Eid Al-Adha is turning to brighter space with slow breathing, daydreaming and chili party.
Happy Eid Al-Adha, family and friends. Hope we are blessed with closeness and connection with the Source of Love.
Alhamdulillah 💝
RC Gorman’s – what an inspirational picture for chili lovers 😁
I’ll send You postcards. Cards with white flower On white paper And some messages On white ink That will glow When You bring it to the dark. Only You and I know what it is Until one day You bring the light To burn it or frame it.
—
Dear you…. 💝
postcards draft for friends – not perfect, yet purely poured from the heart
Wishing, Beloved, Upon a star where dreams sit Waiting to be picked One by one to the bucket Before the steps reach the home—
—
Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗
Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃
Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.
next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝
Counting beads of pray, An echoed name flows away Through silence of heart.
—
Have you ever prayed so silently? No one can hear. Only beads of pray click. A remembrance of love that is unseen. Beyond the ocean and beyond existence—
Literature is a limited tool to disclose ideas and emotions; not accurate enough to shoot one heart. Math is sharp to operate a complex equation; not sweet enough though to state naked truth.
With what then should I count this reality between two lovers? Beauty or precision?
Only beads of pray is whispered silently. Who knows the river will sail this soft voice along its flow introducing it to the estuary that escorts it to the ocean where winds push the current following the North Star to meet with you.
Love is Unseen rope Invisibly tying Sparkling souls.
Love is Interconnected network Constantly connecting All computers.
Love is Moving air Secretly exchanged Through breathing.
Love is An attached context Building meaning In a statement.
Love is A medium Conveying messages To a ready recipient.
And what is not Is not.
—
Years of experience has brought me to an understanding that subtle sensitivity is one of the keys to understanding, genuineness, boundary and security.
Welcome to genuine hearts. Good bye to tricky engagements.
Today I’m in love again with those around me who never give up on my clumsiness and insensitivity and with myself who becomes more patient and acceptant.
Salaam. 💝
“3 sisters with love in heart” in progress – thanks for being older than me, you both are beautifully blessed ♥️♥️♥️
Love at the first sight To what’s captured by senses And stays in the heart—
—
One beloved person called me asking why I didn’t attend a nephew’s wedding party yesterday. I said I couldn’t as I’ve been physically “beaten up” because of an accident recently. After what happened, sorry and better be careful, don’t go biking at night, wear the right shoes; she started ranting….
“What are you looking for in life? Look at your nephews and nieces getting married one by one. They wish their best wishes for you but you don’t seem to care. You’d better find one man and get married and they will attend your wedding party with all love and gifts.”
“Not my priority”, I said.
“What is your priority? Your work? Your dream? What?”
It is sometimes annoying to be a single woman in a society in which marriage is highly appreciated and considered as highway to happiness. I feel so lucky for living overseas away from those caring so much about me so I can enjoy my life the way I love to. Many of my single girl friends call me now and then telling me how tiring it is to answer the same questions again and again even when they don’t seem to have problems for not getting married. We are mentally and financially stable. 😁
“Ok, tell me I’ll find one. I know you won’t want one like your last. Tell me.”
“Sexually straight and not abusive in any way possible.”
“That’s easy! It is just you so difficult! Sometimes you just have to give up your priority or your love. I got married without love and it goes well. Many of us do and it goes well. Know that we worry about you.”
Alamak….
Weekend still goes well. And I’m happily looking forward to another week.
Life is a mystery, and so is love. I love my life and I don’t worry. 🥰
Gemstones, Beloved, Beautiful, shiny, precious— Mind! You’re still a stone.
—
When you integrate, you at the same time disintegrate. Imagine what happens before a gemstone sits on a ring: a tumble stone, cut, polished, separated from dirt and rock. Often time most part of the tumble is “wasted” for the sake of presenting a small carat of a bright semi precious or precious stone!
What gemstone are you? You might be a diamond in progress. Don’t tell, let the true eyes see the true you. Sheer beauty! Don’t take so long except you are willing to be a hidden treasure of the universe. Whatever your choice is – be true to yourself.
I want to be a diamond but I am not and so I will never be.
I am though grateful to have been created a less pricy one – it is precious to be given time to be what I am. Not more, not less, just right. I know and I accept it. 💝
Which one, Beloved? To love? To be loved? Any— As long as it’s true.
—
There are times when you have no choice but giving or taking; no reciprocity whatsoever. And that is when you think it is not fair although that is not necessary to think of anything as long as it is true.
When it is time to give, just give like when you enjoy good unhealthy food. When it is time to take, just take like when you enjoy the healthful bland food. Easy but I have found it challenging in some way. I want balanced give and take, good and healthful.
Life is bitterly fair. To enjoy it, be true. Be true to yourself, my dear.
💝
all is healthful until….you are given this loud, greasy, high carbo, full of pleasure magical crackers! 💝 🎉
Fine lines, Beloved, Show how much and deep her love is To life and its vibes.
—
I am seriously getting and looking older. It doesn’t matter. I love being me changing physically and growing mentally. 💝
black and white photo apps has made my fine lines disappear from the tips of the eyes 😝 no wonder my nieces love to manipulate their photo with some apps
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