Idyll, Beloved, Found in rural area; Hidden heritage—
—
Saw a package in front of my door today. It had been there for several days as instructed to the courier while I was away for a biz trip. Three pieces of jarik batik (long fabric with traditional batik patterns) from Yogyakarta were delivered safe and sound.
Idyllic gift for myself for the hard work in the past one year. Thank you, dear self! 💕
💕 thank you
this handmade batik was crafted by Mbah Suhir, a 93 year old batik maker – truntum background with sido asih (combination of 2 classic patterns) – I’m blessed!
Truntum (depiction of thousands of jasmine flowers) symbolises life under divine guidance and peaceful life fragrant like jasmine. Sido asih symbolises living in love and compassion.
210*120 cm – shorter jarik is for male as he won’t put any pleats when wearing it
the one-sided black “sido asih” handmade by another senior batik maker (still trying to find her name) – I’ll keep this beauty with love 🥰
250*105 cm, classic batik – longer jarik is for female as she will make some pleats at one end of the cloth to beautify the lower apparel
While sido asih pattern bears common symbols everywhere in Java island, the color and the strokes show its place of origin. Black and thin lining is originated from Solo, white and bold lining is originated from Yogyakarta.
“nitik cakar ayam” two-sided classic batik handmade by Ibu Suminah (80 years old batik maker) 🥰
Nitik (literally means making dots/points) is an original batik pattern in Bantul district, Yogyakarta. Nitik “cakar ayam” (literally means chicken claw) symbolises someone who is good at providing good life for his/her family (hard working, prosper and wise).
Two-sided batik is such a luxury to have in modern day. It doesn’t always show the price; but it is more about the maker has to block both sides of the fabric and it doubles the time of craftsmanship. Most batik is one-sided nowadays.
Can’t wait to directly thank the batik makers for their love to Javanese culture.
Matur sembah nuwun, Mbah. Mugi penjenengan dipunbarokahi dyaning Gusti Allah Kang Maha Agung. 🙏🏼💕
My beloved said You need pens, I give you trees. You need ink, I give you oceans. Write love poems with love Until you run out of paper.
I said I need much paper I want as much as I want My love poems are trillions and more.
My beloved said I won’t let you write forever The last paper is not for you It is for me to invite poets for a party Where a special spread is ready.
I asked How much paper will I get Will you give me as much as I want Will you let me write trillions of love poems?
My beloved said Write as much as you want I’ll give you as much as you write You’ll get your paper for your trillions As long as they’re yours.
My beloved said Be dignified, write your own poems, As the spread will be only for those Not claiming from others’ names.
—
big lunch, mini spread for my hard work today – my parents’ message about how to enjoy luxury of life: be dignified to “eat” what you’ve worked and share with love 🙏🏼
What is love and trust? Wind and water pushing boat Sailing to a land—
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Yes, love can come mysteriously like Capt Nemo’s Nautilus suddenly emerged from sea surface. She might love one that she doesn’t logically expect to love at all. Love is an active emotion. If she loves, she does. If she doesn’t love, she doesn’t. Accept and embrace it with its pain and foolishness.
Yet, trust can promote or demote one to or from a position like how Capt Nemo finally trusted Aronnax, Ned and Conseil as his main crew in the submarine. Trust is a living action. Test and investigate it with loyalty and integrity. If she trusts, she’ll promote the one to an inner circle. If she distrusts, she demotes one to outer layer.
Aaah! Love is always sweet in word— just that some people don’t have sufficient vocabulary to express and to understand. Trust is always inevitable in number — just that some people are accustomed to data manipulating to look good and so hiding the fact.
Dream home, Beloved, Sitting with all senses on, Capturing moments—
—
Lunch break + very very heavy rain = early wish of birthday getaway to come true!
sitting here while writing a bunch of love letters to whomever I want – 2023
long chat in Ubud – 2024
tranquil nights in Angkor – 2025
ocean air breathing in Ninh Thuan – 2026
walking in the depth of souk – 2027
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. 😝
4-leaf good luck charm immediately wanted!!! to make dreams come true 🍀
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.
I don’t want to race. Only safety that I wish So I can meet you.
—
started late today and found the undercharged front lamp, decided to go back to the brighter track, safety first 🧷brighter area near home is always the safest
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—
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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! 💝
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