Treasure’s treasured, why In tombs guarded by legends? It’s secret’s secrets.
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I’ve often thought that people living in this society is either living right at the bars or above the bars. It’s either we force ourselves to enjoy comfort that gives us uncomfortable consequences OR we comfortably enjoy whatever we have for comfort with just-right consequences. Today I learnt that there might be some super rich living in an area which “normal” millionaires here won’t even think as a good place to live. I read a news about a millionaire who in fact lives under their own bar with his family. Extraordinary!
So?
Ah! Life is just like that! There are choices to make and people make choices which (they think) they deserve.
Nothing is more liberating knowing that life still offers me wonderful news. It has proven me that life can be NOT-WYSIWYG. I would not imagine someone mistook my car as a grab car, while I were a super duper rich girl waiting for my friends to get on my Honda Vezel. 😃
Does it suffocate Or release? Up to the sky Or stuck in the black? Meet the wind. Fly to the far. Let the chimney nobly stand.
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Chimney is a symbol of industrial era like church for religiosity, tower for secularity and all kinds of stars of spirituality.
Yet I found different interpretation of mine on chimney through Japanese books reading (very very elementary, all hiragana and katakana, I can only remember 15 kanji so far, hell yeah!). Chimney can be a symbol of fairy tales, dreams, ideas and creativity emerging from the dark, beautiful stories. What else? Ya, just use imagination to find what clicks in mind until the word “chimney” meets its lighter connotation against the one in paragraph 1.
Reading the books, I can’t deny some people really get blessed with extraordinary imaginary world and ability to materialise what’s in it by intertwining the intangible blessings with the tangible ones. Like the writer whose books I’ve read.
God bless you, Akihiro Nishino (should be with ~san). Thanks for the books you’ve written.
Read. Read. Read.
Read the letters. Read the lessons. Read between the lines.
🏭
find the Chimney Town in you 🏭dark but glowing – isn’t that paradoxically beautiful?
Go solo travel Through blocked road, dead end With fright, thirst and hope! Trees will tell you where to go. Sun will tell you when to halt.
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I (almost) always travel alone and I love it. It is not only business trip but also travel for leisure.
My first impressive adventurous solo travel was at 12 with my red mini bike. I would bike from home to my uncle’s home in a hilly district. It was about one hour ride of 7 kilometers away excluding all the U turns of getting lost in quite rough terrain in the route. I was excited doing it though because of nieces and nephews waiting to play with and the agriculture experience to enjoy. The up-hill biking to uncle’s home was my private getaway until my little brother insisted joining.
Another impressive solo travel of mine was in Bandar Lampung where I visited elephant and rhino conservation centres. Unfortunately the sweet young me was still innocent that people thought I was welcoming them; and I got sexual-physically harassed. Lucky me to be saved by a bus driver — wherever you are (maybe you away already because you looked like 60 years old when I was 26), you are blessed, Pak Supir!
And the excitement of the first impressive solo travel and the most dangerous one have combined to be a sufficient foundation for me to be a 99% solo traveler until now.
Traveling solo, I learn and improve how to cope with life challenges: languages, culture, human behaviour, security, etc. Yet I can enjoy the trips as I wish without having to wait for others moving slower or having to be dragged by others moving faster. It is almost always about excitement, freedom and privacy!
The bravest trip of mine was to Bangladesh in 2011. Plane touched down at 12am. Taxi waited in a corner that will be considered dangerous spot by any normal women on earth. Hotel was totally different from what was described online. Food was a bit below my hygiene par but I had to show my respect by eating with (fake) happy look! Yet I was truly happy to meet 3 new friends who hosted me with genuine hospitality (no fakey smiley like in some countries on earth I won’t mention); they brought me to city parks, mosques, slum areas, high end areas, etc in Dhaka. That was one paradoxically the happiest-saddest trip where I met the most skinny dogs and poor people right in front of luxurious houses. The most teary nights ever!
My smoothest, most expensive was 20-day solo travel in Europe: expensive flights, flights between countries, 1st class trains between cities and countries, taxi rides, good hotels, accessible public facilities, drinkable water free of charge!, good choices of food…. very little warm smile though. My favourite cities are still Amsterdam with so many Indonesians that warmed my soul and Madrid with so many handsome men that freshened my eyes! 😂
Do I still want to travel alone? YES! but not 99% anymore, maybe will be 75%. I have a small group of semi-backpacker ladies who will be best neighbours when I retire. So they might be my travel buddies when I want to share some itinerary with.
I miss traveling!!!
Next destination? I don’t know…. The virus has evolved from physical barrier to physio-socio-psycho-political block for me to move around! God bless you, dear Corona.
Happy Sunday home! Salaam. 💝
traveling isn’t the only way to find your true self, you can travel within instead; yet when having time and resources, do travel out of your familiar towns and cities – you’ll feel different blessings! stay safe!
Sometimes a challenge or deadline is needed like fertiliser sprinkled on to the soil to trigger more chemical, biological, physical reactions from the root dancing in the ground to go deeper and healthier so that the tree grows even stronger and taller.
頑張りましょう！
28-day writing challenge with some friends feels like a squid game 💝 😵💫
A dream, Beloved, Is roots absorbing nutrient In any seasons.
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Teak wood tree will shake all her leaves to fall off in dry season and look like standing death log in order to save her energy in managing her metabolism. It happens until the first rain pours down again. Young leaves will come out. The forest will come alive again. Annually!
That’s what I learn from my childhood living in a district where teak wood forest was rich and well protected.
If I were a tree, I would dance and sing in its root in the spring, summer and autumn before dozing off in the winter.
That’s what I learn about having dreams in life.
Thank you! for everything
🥰
my dream is much simpler than his (I don’t even dream of visiting NY/USA, the only place I’m willing to visit is my office) but he is one of those inspiring me! he is mediocre (he said) just like me (I said) but given so much by life❣️
New year, Beloved, Leaf falling celebrated By the wind then gone; Only memories will stay In the soul of those alive.
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You can start the year on any day and call it a new year. You can use lunar or solar or any other possible cycle in the galaxy or even beyond the galaxy as you wish.
The only thing you need is making sure your start is well used.
I thank everyday for the second chance, the new day everyday, the new year everyday.
Happy Chinese New Year!
a video from a colleague in Taiwan, always one of my favourite buddies at work!!! 👍🏽 Gong Xi, Gong Xi, Tim!
I’m in, Beloved, Heart and soul. Give me some time, I might be behind.
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Life journey is a bus full of passengers. They are free to choose how to enjoy the ride except to disturb the driver. Some read books. Some sleep. Some look out day dreaming. Some enjoy the running-backwards scenery. Some talk to other passengers. Some try to seduce sexy passengers. Some take chances to steal sleeping people’s valuable belongings. Some complain why it takes so long to reach the destination. Some just look around confused or amazed or stupid or blank. Some do. Some do other things. Some don’t. Many, many and many things are happening in one packed stuffy place, misunderstood as the only whole life.
Which are you, Beloved?
Ah! A decision was made! I’m not in that bus. I got off earlier and am now riding my scooter! I might be left behind but I made a change inside of me! 🤠
Is there sacrifice? Earth lovingly hugs our waste, Giving all her love. Committed, sacrifice not— Yet Mars looks better? Damn you!
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I salute those who are ready to migrate to Mars yet curse them for destroying dear Mother Earth through mining and exploiting her to build spacecraft to join the god of war.
Allegedly-visionary people dream of living forever while destroying where they live. Allegedly-ordinary people take care of where they live and be considered underdeveloped.
To Mother Earth, so much love to and for you. Please forgive your children.
Know not, Beloved This path about to end when And where. I trust you.
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Trust is what she’s been holding tight because without it she’s lost the grip against so much magnetic force around that will pull her into a gaping hole, where greediness can consume anyone till no end.
Thanks, Beloved, for giving me a life that’s imperfect but perfectly humbling me in many ways.
I trust You; voluntarily or forcefully.
💞
a song that touches my heart like a tiny leaf falling on a placid lake 💝 thank you
Her life, Beloved, Perfectly-directed film Ready for Oscars—
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She sometimes forgets that life is a performed script in which she is casted to act out a given role the best she can. She should follow the director’s direction and directive.
What about spectators? She should ignore spectators. Spectators are stars whose job is to see and comment on the film. And they pay for what they see and comment. The payment goes to the stars!
So, dear Star. Fix your moves. Better your expression. Tag your ears with the melody. Live in harmony, with your own self like JavaneseBedhaya performers who are meditatively drowned in the sacred composition.
A wreath, Beloved, A circle packed with beauty, Arranged true colours—
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Dear Self,
When you’re bored, splash some paints! When you’re angry, splash some paints! When you feel happy, splash some paints! When you feel funny, splash some paints! When you get offended, splash some paints!
As honest as you to you when you’re alone, your colours speak the truth.
A home, Beloved Not an outlook— it’s the soul That hugs when inside.
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I bought my first property at 34, a bit late from the original plan simply because I was broke. It was a small house in Greater Jakarta, that is now called “Rumah Bob” (literally Bob’s home) named after my cat Bob.
It is one tiny house in a small cluster, uniformly designed with minimum freedom to show “me” — the owner can only have it painted different colours, install different window sills, plant different flowers and design different garden, add different carport, or maybe buy different cars.
That has motivated me to have a home that reflects “the me that I want to present”. None of the houses offered to me by brokers or friends hit my core although some were into my taste— of course some were simply too pricy. 😩 I rejected all offers.
Apology – Some people (who helped search property for me) thought I was too much because for some of them a house is simply a place to live in comfort, while I’ve always dreamt to live in a home where I can express the true me and help my guests understand their true selves by visiting the home. A few of them sarcastically said I shouldn’t have searched through them if I didn’t have enough money — ohhhhhh some bloody stings!!! 😂 Yet I did apologise to them for being so difficult.
I decided to buy a small plot of land in a greenery in Yogyakarta (my father’s home town) and build a home from scratch.
Architect – It’s very important to choose the right architect. Not necessarily the most prominent as to me integrity and friendship is the most important thing – luckily my best friend recommended her student to work on my dream. Working with an architect who was artist had blessed me. She understood what was wanted by her clients but she never got satisfied even when the clients said the final draft was excellent. She would get back to me saying “Mbak, I think I find which part should be optimised. I’ll get back to you with a new draft.” Thanks to Mbak Novi.
The Core – My home will never impress random onlookers from the outlook or those who think a good house is a luxurious building; they will simply think it’s a humble abode clean and fresh. It will only impress its guests, family and friends who truly relate with me as human beings with different kinds of engagements or those who know how to appreciate humanity and ordinary.
I wish to be granted health and prosperity to live long enough to enjoy being a sincere host in my true home to those who love life.
A dream come true! Alhamdulillah.
May all beings be happy. 💝
front door, greeting family and friends with all my heart and soul – no fake people are welcome
After the moon? No. The sun is where this heart walks With rain that visits.
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Chasing what’s not clear and uncertain was an exciting thing for the hot-blooded. Dark, shadowy picture of what she once imagined has started fading away. The moon’s shift is over.
Walking in this forest, the leaves has rekindled her faith that rain is paying a short visit. When the rain stops, she will again realise that her heart is always enveloped in the warmth of clarity.
Sunbeam always opens a new chapter in which sunshine will take over what’s mysterious and frightening. Light will help her eyes see things the way they are, no assumption, no prejudice. It is what it is.
When she reaches the edge of the forest, she will step on a meadow where the moon is again sending shadow but this time there is no mystery anymore.
All is clear. All is well. What it takes is just counting the milestones and blessing all that are sensed.
May all beings be happy.
take the bent road or go ahead? your choice, the sun will guide you 🧭
Comic, Beloved, Life through senses. Through head, storms— Through soul, a great gift—
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‘m wishing the borders re-open soon so I can travel to meet my family and friends then have some chat with them while throwing sour jokes without emoticon or disturbed internet connection.
‘m wishing the borders re-open soon so I can travel to see my base home starting her life.
‘m wishing I’m as fine as now if the borders don’t re-open soon. 😎
Borders re-opening means no quarantine applied 😁 10-day in a closed room -how much ever it is comfy- is truly a must-not-happen-experience-in-life thing!
Blissful, Beloved, Joyful, gleeful— life should be. Save the right window.
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‘m praying that I’ll be saved from any danger and threats from any creature. Amen…
Nagasari or Nogosari is rice cake filled with ripe banana, one “snack” included in Javanese praying ceremony. This food symbolises prayer to God for safety and security from any danger and threats from any creature; and so a Javanese’s life can be blissful, joyful and gleeful.
Always sit next to the right window, dear Self. 💝
prayer of safety and security in a piece of ramekin 🥰modern Nagasari, should be wrapped in banana leaf but today it was steamed in a 💝 instead
Garden, Beloved, Fertilized with poisons? Dead! Cinder rose goes off.
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A group call with my brother and sister in law is mostly either stupid or crazy. Once we talked about the old time passing and our addiction.
How someone gets addicted to something is mostly started from a physical or mental exit of pain— either clinically prescribed or personally decided— followed by excessive dependency on the substances or the activities.
I’ve seen how people addicted to medicine (I was to pain killer), drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, etc have changed from beautiful human beings into ugly persons either physically or mentally. It’s how awful co-dependency shapes someone’s life. Moreover, there is no addiction in any history that brings true happiness or freedom.
Three of us then discussed about someone who was addicted to something unusual: spiritual drills. Having all resources, the person went shopping on various classes and workshops about spirituality and self help such as meditation, mindfulness, tapping therapy, money magnet and how to optimise it spiritually, how to activate chakra, yoga and blahblahblah, gemstones and their spiritual power, mandala and spiritual awakening, how spiritual life pull financial abundance, spiritual traveling around many places, etc. One had been in one’s 60th class last time we met. One would be able to answer all questions in any possible ways. I called one ‘Mr/Ms Know All’, a euphemistic nick name that might be loved by those addicted to power and authority. Some friends called this person “Mr/Ms Spiritual Junky”.
What I remember about this person is that no one around was genuinely appreciated, everyone was just a “who-are-you-you-think-you’re-better-than-me”. One called most of one’s friends “cantrik”, a Javanese word that literally means follower/helper and would never be up to one’s level (one called one’s self healer and universe map reader).
How ironic! From someone who were full of compassion to someone who were full of envy and insecurity—
I think many if not all people to some extent were once addict who learned the lessons and changed the patterns to be free from co-dependency. My brother was a heavy smoker, been stopping for around 3 years. My sister in law was a Korean drama freak and quit. I myself was addicted to those I fell for and heavily overthinking.
“I almost got addicted to someone again.”
“Let go! Let go! Let go!” said they to me like cheerleaders.
Definitely! It’s a waste to wait for emotionally unavailable people to care that I care about them. I’m ok to get soaked in love and compassion but not in addiction to people. 💝
Addiction, oh addiction.
Alfatihah to all of those who are addicted to anything in any situation. Be healed and blessed.
are they addicted to gadget or hugs? so clingy, damn…. 😂
rike jokanan 
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