Have you heard of the word home? I often think of what it is And where it is.
My friends all say it. That it is where shelter is, That it is where family is, That it is where safety is, That it is where heart is, That it is this earth that spins, Blah blah blah, That it is this, That it is that.
What is a home?
I’m not as intelligent as they are. I can only tell what’s not a home. Sometimes my apartment isn’t a home. Sometimes my childhood home isn’t a home. Sometimes I don’t feel safe staying in this safest place. Sometimes my heart is flying across the ocean while I’m sitting in the sofa. This earth is traveling to where I don’t know. Sometimes I just don’t believe what my friends say about home. I’m sorry for being not so intelligent as all of you are.
I will keep identifying what’s not home Until I’m home.
They live in the mud. Flowers wanted. Story not, Real beauty that’s missed—
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Dark and bright, two limits that often corrupt my perception of facts and so affect many plans. In fact both bring different strengths supplementally support my life.
What is it about? Oh, it is just about that night ride is cool and serene, morning ride is colourful and fresh.
In the dark I hear more; when it’s bright., I see more.
Hey! Riding morning makes skin darker! Damn right! 😿
Salaam.
the blooming happiness along my normal route of fun this morningthey’re all resting buds last eveningmostly living in cluster, colourful same colour clustertwo of themliving at the edgesoloisolated duosupporting systemhiddensome can see their reflection on the water, some not 💝
Time zones, Beloved, Limit spaces with blurred ends. Illusion that jails.
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One hour makes things different.
Dear, time…. Thanks for the space you just gave for what’s called holiday. Please bless me with nice pace and good vibe again and again like always.
If I forget about your kindness, please remind me gently as I’m fragile. If I take you for granted, please remind me that I’m traveling between your two points: start and end.
Thanks again.
Me that is blessed with both negative and positive yet trying to balance at the zero ❣️
illusion that jails – time zonessky is the limit – love?
Beauty, Beloved Bodily fades. Beauty stays Only as value: Commitment, integrity. Forever? Yes, forever.
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I won’t exchange anything in me with anything from any other beautiful, rich, sexy women who look happier and more successful because I love the way Mother Nature presents life through this very journey.
Watching physical deterioration is provoking yet amazing. Seeing my own picture from small girl to adult mature, it takes courage to tell myself that who was radiantly strong has grown to this dully weak. At the same time it takes courage to tell myself that who was carelessly egotistical has grown to this wisely humble.
Thanks so much for all the lessons and gifts. I won’t regret. 🐣
May all beings be happy.
Dedicated to: scammers who never stop trying stealing from others in one way or another – if you don’t have money, just stop shopping, don’t use others’ to satisfy your impulsive buying, lazybones!
this old guy is clear and accurate, the other two favourite: the apartment doorman and the psychologist – different spectrum of covert beauty
Good life, Beloved Surrounded by them most loved In green serene air—
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I like to tell some colleagues that I’ll be the host for our reunion dinner in my home 15 years from now. It must be a good time to talk about how we’re doing what we’re doing.
Though not soon, ‘m looking forward to a long life to make it happen.
See you in a green serene garden, fellas! 🥳
water, greenery, away from parties – life as I love it 💓 – one spot in Singapore Botanic Garden 😍
I want to not eat But get full. My palate says “Go talk to the wall”.
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My palate is greedy yet very loving and worth loving. It tells me to eat more tasty food although I’m not hungry. In Ramadhan it whispers to me, coaxing me to “collect good-looking food” on the day to reward my good deed through breakfast (ifthar). Damn good influencer!
Dear, Ms Palate. At least please support my weight loss program. 😚
pizza, good when rather hot — ordered at lunch time in the office at 1:25pmheated pizza at home at 7:12pm — good? slightly dry but good!
Up and down the hills The feet walk, the heart stands still. Journey of the nights—
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Nights and days are the consequences of sun and moon fixed courses. Or is it the other way around: sun and moon fixed courses are existing due to the need of nights and days in this particular planet.
Many say day is for activities, night is for resting. I don’t deny but I have my own interpretation of activities and resting. Activity is when all my concentration is for transactional economy, resting is when my concentration is for relaxation and personal. Rest day? Of course all my rest days will become nights. 💞
Regret and sorry Not easy to feel and say, Yet flushing the guilt. Look! It’s rain water pouring On the roof, sweeps away dirt.
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Ramadhan is starting tomorrow, it’s my 38th year in which I do full fasting. I’m so grateful with this achievement. Achievement? Yes! Imagine for one full month during the day we don’t drink, we don’t eat, we don’t smoke, we don’t sex, we don’t let out uncontrolled emotion, we simply hold whatever we normally let out easily with no delay. We are human beings though, we can do all those at night. Ahem!
As a Javanese Muslim welcoming Ramadhan is as special as the fasting itself. We welcome the Ramadhan with a small celebration called megengan which literally means holding (esp. the breath).
In megengan a Javanese family will deliver a basket of rice with dishes to neighbours and extended family members living separately. While each family can choose what they share, there is one must specialty in this occasional delivery so called “apem” in Javanese or “kue apam” in Bahasa Indonesia or Malay.
Apem is steamed cake whose ingredients are rice flour, coconut milk, coconut water, yeast, sago starch and some sugar.
The word apem is derived from the word “afwun” (an Arabic word) meaning apology. Why apology? In Ramadhan when a Muslim is fasting, s/he is not only holding her/himself from hunger, thirst, lust, uncontrolled anger, and exercising her/his integrity; but s/he is also recommended to contemplate her/his own “action records” for the past one year. It is not easy for one to bear the guilt during the contemplation, so it is recommended for a Muslim before Ramadhan to apologise to their family and friends or to whomever s/he did wrongdoing, to ease the contemplation process. As it might not be easy to say sorry through a naked word, Javanese Muslim will include a symbolic apology in the food called apem when they deliver the whole food package. Everyone knows what it is, what it does— it is up to each person whether or not to accept the apology. And there they go starting the fasting month with a light heart to physically, mentally and spiritually exercise her/himself for one full month.
I used to think that that celebration was a waste of food. For one week I used to see sooooo many plastic and bamboo baskets piled up in our dining table and shelves — all those megengan packages which would be eaten just a bit and end up given to our chickens at the back yard. Fyi, the apem is never wasted though as every family has different taste and ways of how to make their best apem – maybe it’s a symbol that everyone is taking the apology seriously. I used to say to my mom that megengan was more about chickens celebrating than human beings celebrating. However after I understand what is symbolised through those simple deliveries, I highly appreciate the way we Javanese hold the integrity through our humble tradition.
I used to tell my mother to not do it, but now I’ve always been a reminder to her to not forget doing it and done it myself although I’m living around those not familiar with this tradition. I normally cook some simple food for the cleaning ladies and the gardeners who are assigned in the block two days before Ramadhan. Unfortunately minus the apem, simply because I am not confident enough to make my own apem. Tried this year though and failed 🙃
I promise to myself that this year is gonna be a good Ramadhan.
Welcome, month of holding, month of exercising integrity. It might not be always easy but doable.
I’m sending out apology to all the people having felt hurt by me. I’m sorry with my heart and soul in naked words. 🙏🏼
May all beings be happy.
my private megengan in 2022 minus rice, the white one is my own first apem in life – taste good but imperfect texture 🥰
Smile is a good mask Than a mask can be. A mask Masks a masking smile. What masks a mask? Or who does? Unmask! A soul has missed you.
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Sometimes she doesn’t know why she feels a blissful joy. She tries her best to find a reason but seems to fail. When people ask why she looks radiant on certain day, she will just say I love the food, I love the weather, I love this, I love that — simply for courtesy with a bit of honesty compromised due to inability to give exact reason.
Perhaps the reason is because the footprints of falling in love is greater than the scars of broken heart. Alas! It might not be. Or, it might be. Come on, it might not be. Ah! That’s not important.
Oh? She doesn’t know. And it is ok to feel that way – blissfully joyful with unknown reason like when she is falling in love, unreasonable — her love did go to that that she never ever thought of getting on the way then suddenly gone away.
Tragic comedy! 🙃
❣️
guess why happy? the salad counter is at least 50% open! eyes can’t hide a smile 🙂
Woman is human being With exactly the same rights as man to be human being. All her decisions should be respected like man’s decisions should be respected, too. It is not a privilege to be a woman like it is not a privilege to be a man, too. It is a privilege to be a woman like it is a privilege to be a man, too.
In some culture woman is discriminated based on different things, but overall the discrimination is simply because she is a woman. Don’t worry, culture sustains when human being preserves it. So let’s change the discrimination culture by promoting a non-discriminative mindset.
In some culture though woman overdoes her fight of emancipation that makes herself suffer with no gain.
There should be no fighting between man and woman because the existence of both doesn’t generate competition. It is a complimentary and supplementary relationship for one another in different levels or fields of roles and responsibilities that are agreed without discrimination, harassment or abuse just because of being a woman or a man.
Ah! It is good for her to be a woman. And I know it is good for him to be a man.
Stop ranting! Go rest. 😀
thanks for saving me, Beloved❣️we can adopt a cat, a dog or an underprivileged child! 😁not less woman by being not a wife or a mother with a childI never be in this type of changing room but yes, I get itexotic and uniquely builtoh, I’m not either of them but yes it’s my body and I love it so I take care of itcommitment and integrityto those underestimating me, thanks for staying away 🥰not only happy, be joyful❣️
Time travels with you To where good memories sit, Waiting to rejoice.
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When I was a girl, I got sick very often. Yet what I remember the most isn’t the pain but is how my family would take care of me. Of course they medically treated me either at home or hospitalised, but there was a unique way I can never forget what my mother, father and siblings did extra.
My father would chant Javanese mantra that would calm me down. My mother would wrap me with a sheet of batik cloth before putting the next thicker blanket. And of course siblings especially sisters would sleep with me the whole night.
What Javanese mantra chanted by father? Oh can’t remember! What batik, I definitely remember it and now own it for the same need; covering myself with batik gringsing when sick.
1.2mx2.3m batik cloth with gringsing background pattern of flower bouquets
Gringsing is one of the oldest batik background patterns in Java. It is thousands of tiny square with a dot in the center symbolising “sedulur papat kalima pancer” (literally means 4 siblings and 1 core as the fifth) the cosmic balance of human reality in Javanese wisdom. And through the philosophy it is believed that when a Javanese human is sick, s/he is cosmically imbalanced and needs to be balanced. Physically s/he is medically treated, metaphysically s/he is cured with gringsing the balance symbol.
Gringsing is an acronym of gring or gering (sick, not well, ill) and sing (not); gringsing means not sick anymore. Oh! That simple! Made by hand! Oh! Not that simple!
What a blessed human being!
wrapping body when catching fever doesn’t replace paracetamol, it’s to recall the memory of how my family well treated me when I was sick 🥰detail of gringsing: a tiny squarish scale with a dot in the center – sedulur 4 ka-5 pancer
Today I had a lunch chat with a colleague. We discussed about this and that and of course how we both grow more grey hair, more fat and of course more wisdom.
happy to work with those having courage to tell when it’s right or wrong, with objectivity
I remember when I was 30’s I said to him I was so afraid of growing old alone. Now I’m growing old alone and I’m not afraid. Today I said to him that I’m afraid of dying alone and he lightly said “No one wants to die with you or with anyone else, girl! No one!”
I laughed and said “Damn! you’re right!”
And I made a good decision right during the convo that I won’t be afraid of being alone! Everything is gonna be alright!
But he said something before saying goodbye “And you’d better be a bit stingy to those not helping!”
“Damn! You’re right again!”
Life is fair but life is also not fair so we’d better know how to surf! Unfortunately, I don’t like surfing, I’m just gonna be biking!
slow down to both directions, live and die is like drawing an ♾
A flower blooms, dries to fall off or falls to dry at time in place for a given moment. It lives then dies. It blossoms or prematurely drops.
Some flowers are admired, some are not even noticed. Some are vibrantly coloured, some are dead dull. Some are meticulous, some are straightly simple. Some produce edible fruits, some the poisonous.
It’s about flower, the beauty in itself, although most view points perceive the look differently. Absolute beauty sits where it is, lingering forever as values and concepts. Relative beauty fades away through aging, some even without being remembered as memory or history.
It’s about flower, the one in a palace and that in a lawn.
Salam. Alfatihah.
prominent, admired, blessedunnoticed, hidden beauty, blessedfall to dry, blesseddried and ready to decompose, blessed
I’m a tiny dot in the galaxy, a mini tiny dot in the universe but I won’t give up praying that You will give peace in the heart of every human being on earth.
My prayer is for the children, elderly, disabled and animals where violence is hell on earth. That is the real hell.
Happy, Beloved, Return to office saying “Hi!” to real bodies
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My first day working in office after 23 months working from remote workplace felt like my first day joining the company. Excitement and thrill, this time with clarity, calmness and strong ground
Although not many, I met people in real bodies not their avatar.
Thanks for the new day!
frozen in a huge quiet space but happy! 🥰🥰🥰
on my way to the bus stop after work, I met a jungle fowl as happy as me 🥰🥰🥰 – hello, ayam hutan!
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 💝 😵💫
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
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
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…. 😂
Time flows, Beloved, To an estuary of hope. Time flows, Beloved, To the eternity sea. Won’t be long before we meet—
Time flows, Beloved To you through me. White beacon Blinks red at low tide. Wind says the woodlands miss me. Time flows, Beloved. Thank you.
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Don’t take too long a time to fix an issue. Time wisely travels with those willing to appreciate a journey through action taking along with wisdom harvesting. Otherwise, it will bulldoze what’s not solved.
Dear January. I know you’ll transform with me who doesn’t want remedial lessons next year.
Thank you, 2021. Welcome, 2022.
Bismillaahirrahmaanirrahiem….
💝
nothing is forever, let go of all that are not serving for my highest good either interest or ambition
no one is perfect, accept the dark side of my own self and learn all lessons either pleasant or unpleasant
balance is feasible only when mental detachment and appropriate acceptance are achieved, I claim the balance
rike jokanan 
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