Good heart, Beloved, What blossoms her life. Always. Bright light in the dark—
Human being with good heart looks weak. Yes. Not always though
Human being with good heart looks stupid. Yes. Not always though
Human being with good heart looks naive. Yes. Not always though
Human being with good heart looks vulnerable. Yes. Not always though
With all those, she’s still seeking all ways to shape a good heart. Failure. Pain. Sadness. Vulnerability. Anger. Disappointment. All those are nothing but chisels sculpting the best figure in the right place at the right time.
Thanks for sending me all those human beings with good heart along this journey.
Good vibes, Beloved, Contagious and precious Keep it the longest.
Years ago….. One teacher said “You do whatever you want to, but make sure what you do doesn’t harm….” Impatiently student asked,”Harmful to whom?” Teacher didn’t say anything, just pointed to one’s chest then head, and said “Go play and don’t harm yourself or your friends. Have fun, you’re good. You’re good, my child,”
Another teacher would just sang some traditional songs then explained the meaning that were full of wisdom when asked questions. Those silly children would ask so many questions about why religions were many and different, how many gods were there, why the teacher didn’t have religion, why, why, why…..
Another teacher just asked us to eat what one was cooking when we asked questions. We just did and enjoyed the food. It happened when our questions were about what Mr A or Mrs B did this and that for.
More teachers, more experiences…. And we all grew up becoming human beings who approach different things differently or sometimes uniquely although sometimes confusedly. How challenging life is sometimes!
All those learnings happened in the Wonderland! I hope the young get honourable and good teachers as we did before and even better so they build our land into real wonder! Not the most developed in infrastructure, yet with the most developed clear thinking. Not the most modern, yet the most dignified. Not the richest, yet the most caring and loving to the people. What a dream!
Dogma, Beloved, The least she can hold in life. She is full of quests.
What human beings should think of being sick is it is a tool materialised by Life to make them stop or at least slow down especially from analysing every single thing. Yet human beings often forget that blessing should not be always gift-wrapped in fancy paper with ribbons; it might be sometimes humbly bundled in a sack.
Blimey! Why do I have so many sacks? And poorly unable to untie them successfully 😎
Secret, Beloved Ice cube waiting for warm touch— Melts and flows: a stream Of messages from the heart. Read or heard of. Clean and clear—
No secret, it’s exposure or disclosure in the right place at the right time. I believe life is somewhat designed WYSIWYG for those willing to see life as it is. What you see (should be) is what you get.
Private is about level of security one is living. One day things will be exposed and forgiven or glorified.
Confidential is about secret recipe. One day things will get disclosed and comprehended and copied.
As simple as that. I’ve got no secret hidden. It is just about time for you to know. Either you’ll hate me or hate yourself; OR love me or love yourself for knowing “the secrets”.
Magic, Beloved, Not just spells. It’s click and twist Within time and space.
I thought magic was a split second materialisation of what were wished. Years ago I believed that The Most Powerful would make things in just a blink of an eye. With millions of disclosure and exposure, magical things have become something natural. Everything can be interpreted as miracle as much as it can be considered ordinary.
Magic is a mechanisation in the universe in which processes and timelines cannot be denied. Sooner or later….
What’s prime number, Love? Itself and one can divide. Most intimate love—
It’s just me and the one.
The one that I’ve always missed with no reason. The one that I’ve perceived but not perceivable. The one that I’ve missed and travelled for but nowhere to find. The one that I’ve felt so intimate but so distant. The one that I’ve cried for but making me smile. The one that I’ve been peaceful with but breaking my heart.
You’re a prime number, Self, one that is greater than one and can only be divided by one and itself. The rest is excluded.
Words don’t end as words. They wait for context to be: Fact? Opinion?
Why should be afraid of using precise words —gathered in a context— clear context of statement, question, request or exclamation if it is to positively convey a message and/or to get expected responses?
I found some people are shy if not afraid of conveying messages because of unsuccessful experiences of getting the messages passed on to the others clearly. They thought the failure was purely theirs. No, not at all!
Know, Self that some people don’t have the tools to comprehend certain messages; it can be because of limitation of language, intelligence, culture, perception, intention, name it…. In fact some others simply don’t want to listen.
When the message isn’t well comprehended, an equivalent response most probably will be delivered, which is unpleasant and/or unclear one.
It is not nice to fail in communication. Only true learners never give up trying. 👍🏽
Communication is about intention as intrinsic factor (make sure it is good) and skill as extrinsic. Both take time to be mature. Yet, in whatever stage of maturity both don’t always collaborate at times.
Hell yeah! I’m talking about myself! Next time better, much better than today’s me.
Swaying gently down, Feather falls off from the wings Flapping. Angel smiles.
I used to pick up feathers met on the way to school, office, home, everywhere. Feathers have been good signs to me for years. There has been a feeling of being protected.
Superstition? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.
Now? Still believing that feather present is the presence of protection, but I stopped hoarding. Just look at the feathers, pray for protection and greet the guardian angels, and walk on with a bunch of blessings.
How perfect you are, 99. I’m the 1 completing the reality. And so we are completed, 100!
Life is blessed when the heart is loaded and bedazzled with three gemstones of the beautiful names and attributes of God: the amethyst of Ar-Rahman (the beneficent), the emerald of Ar-Rahiem (the merciful) and the rose quartz of Al-Latif (the subtle one, the most gentle).
It’s a personal interpretation; don’t quote me.
People say that the quality of God can’t be bounded with the beauty of any but at the same time it can in order to attribute God with something sensuously beautiful at the same time symbolising some characters. I chose gemstone. Why not flowers, why gemstones? Let it be
The three qualities are those projected to be. Someday —not sure when— I’ll acceptably be. Not sure when….
Enchanting those three attributes without thinking what religions I’m holding has been helpful to cope with many challenges especially facing those contesting and/or underestimating. Forgive them, love them and keep gentle in the heart— how much ever tough the argument is, be gentle in the heart; how much ever confrontation to be tackled, be gentle in the heart; how much ever firm intonation to be uttered, be gentle in the heart. At the end it is not winning an argument that’s important; it is accepting the learning process the bounties. Gorgeous and precious as gemstones—
So thankful to be a human being, being able to wildly interpret what might be rigidly believed by others, being able to move meaning from where beauty is rigidly defined to wherever a defined beauty can be criticised. That’s a privilege only for those who have enough space for being humane — take learning step, one by one….
In this crowded world, the safest sanctuary is being one’s self where those that I know don’t really care and those that I care don’t really know.
He’s a Javanese and a Buddhist. It’s always a perfect combination when someone can blend one’s belief with one’s own root. A blessings!
It’s never about what religion one holds, it’s about a good heart one nurtures.
So blessed to be born as a female human being, a Javanese, raised by parents of different religions and nurtured by complex environments, living around people of different walks of life and various nationalities and so much diversity—
Never want any other way than this. Thank you, Life…. 💝
An old man’s waiting
For the sun to rise. He moans
At the moon. “Dark night,
Pull away. You block me from
Beauty.” — Life’s a mentalist.
Who is the true beauty? The moon or the sun? Debatable! It’s a matter of played tricks of layered lights— light upon light with darkness in between. How would it be not cozy hiding under a cool calm night while patiently welcoming morning? How would it be not fun playing in a warm radiant day while cheerfully welcoming dusk?
Ah…. Why should one be getting old while constantly denying what is….
Dive, mine pearls deep down.
True book with golden pages:
Self you’ve forgotten.
Past year without traveling and literally working from home has brought a kind of peaceful mind. Workload is still there but the level of stress is much much lower and that has made me a happier person.
What’s more, a lot of discoveries about self: negative, positive, wound, trauma, anger, disappointment, broken heart, happiness, honesty, fun, comedies, sweetness of my heart; all are blessings in different manifestation. What a period 2020 and 2021 has been! Socially it is a worldwide trial! Personally for me it is a deep wound of ignorance!
Slowly I realise that it is the way Universe teaches me what’s best to be a human being called me. I don’t like people to do one thing to me so I will never do it to others. But I won’t expect others to do what’s best according to me— let the Universe teach them how to do it….
Thanks Universe, you are the best teacher and teaser at the same time! I praise you and scold at you as I wish at the same time! ⚡️
Life is so just. You lose, you gain. It is just about time…. While waiting, befriend with your own self….
I never want to hurt myself, I just didn’t know who you are. I got hurt by a cactus in a desert Who pricks little fingers, Who just want to touch this life softly, Not hurting, not taking anything away.
Wounded, I decided to blame stupidity: Why did I have to have to have to have to have to just touch cacti? I should have left that arid land long before I touched a prickly spirit.
A delayed regret is less important than a lesson learned but it always gives a story the most significant pivot.
Now I’ll just admire from here From where I stand With millions of prayers For a secret journey. Yet I know you are a ghost days and nights.
Someday when I pour down the rain, You’ll know. Love is as sweet as water in drought— Maybe— If it is not late....