Birthday, Beloved, One step closer to the gate To a rendezvous
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It’s my mother’s 77th birthday and she looked so happy when I called through my little brother’s phone. A happy day for all of us finding that she’s still happy and healthy in this age.
She’s a lady of the house. She’s respected by family and neighbours because of her kindness. She’s cheated though by the greed. She’s loved by her children at the same time official enemy of all of them at certain time. I personally have a shade of rivalry against her, she did envy me how I would be closed with and always got constant support from my father. 😂
My friends want to be like her but I don’t. I don’t want to be like her because her life was too tough. She was born in a period of war, raised mostly without a father and be given a lot of ups and downs in her personal journey. Lucky that she was married to a humble, kind, hard working man and they became one of the best couples in our humble world.
Happy birthday, Ibu. I wish you happiness. 💝 Long happy life! See you at our dining table on your 78th birthday. 😘😘😘😘😘😘
This heart is a pot With seed buried in its dark, Growing to the light.
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Always believe in the beauty of human’s heart. The darkest of it there is still a dot of light that will brighten one’s life! There must be at least one tiny dot of light.
Believe it. Run free like Bambi playing in peaceful woods.
Enjoy this blessed weekend! Take all light, as light as feather
Deny all what’s not Is a start where to find me. Seed to be seedling, Tree decayed, the decayed soil Eaten by air. Who am I?
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Identity is a consequence of marriage. You marry the country, you’ll be a nationality but what if your passport expires? You marry a company, you become an employee but what if you retire? You marry a career, you are higher and higher but what if you are not promoted? You marry a clique, you become a friend but what if they kick you out?
You marry a person, you become a spouse then a mother then a grandmother, etc. You are a wife only to your husband. You are a mother only to your children. And so on.
What you have married brings you an identity. Layered identity is wrapping you.
You can marry as many as those to earn identity. You can’t be any of them forever and you can’t be with those you marry forever. None of them is permanent; there’s a time for each of them.
Are all those identities you? After living this long, I can confidently say NO.
I thought I was this body, but the body deteriorate. I thought I was the mind, but the mind is so inconsistent. I’m not even this name.
There must be a question inside that you can’t deny, dear Self. Who…. Are…. You?
The answer lies at one point of your cruise. Grab your apparatus and dive in your own deep ocean, Self.
Be alone some time either when alone or among the crowd, and naked in front of your own self. Deny all what’s not and find the truly you.
Dream is more than true. It’s alive in different world. Sail, Dream. Sail to me.
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If you’ve got dreams, never kill them no matter how impossible they look, with one condition: they should be good dreams that don’t harm other creatures. Live with the dreams. Ship them to reality with all whispers and prays.
Dreams are standing in queue, waiting for the door to open up to them.
Just like my biryani!
I don’t mind throwing up biryani today. 😁
Salaam….
ya Allah, enak banget! 😂💝💝pressure cooker is needed for next cooking 😁regret of not including the bone! next time betterI love this one! So fragrant and glazed 🥰boiled basmati rice with some cinnamon bark and Indian bay leaves – I shouldn’t have put the saffron at this stage 🥰a bit too much yoghurt in, next time better 🥰herbs and spices, one was left not taken picture the garan masalabasmati rice
There’s a renewal; Flowery, fruitage, once more. Enlightened each day—
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Life is like farming. A farmer only sows good seeds, waters the plant, weeds the grass in the field or garden, prunes the leaves or does other things simply to farm.
Whether or not flowers and fruit will appear, it is not in the farmer’s hand.
Remember, dear farmer. Do your best. Not because you want flowers and fruits but because that’s what you can and should do as a farmer.
Hey, maybe learning a little more about seasons and seasoning. The first is for you to manage the farm, the other is for you to make your life tastier.
Salaam…. 💝
I’ll take care of you, no matter what. I’m your farmer.
Cool breeze sweeps dry leaves, Branches stretch to where Wind blows. Where do you go, Wind?
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How can I ignore my own silence? How can I listen to the noise more? It is tiring to leave my own self behind, I’m doing it though. I haven’t trusted my self. 🙃
This mind acts like dry leaves, scrambling frantically just because of cool breeze. Sometimes it moves lazily in panic pulled by strong wind, changing directions every now and then. Lightly and heavily moving because of doubt and fear of failure—
Trust is what can help. Trust that there is a net catching me when I free fall. Trust that there is light at the end of the tunnel although I haven’t seen it yet. Trust that I’m in process, not lost.
Trust is a light word, weighing as heavy as an unmovable mountain.
Good heart, Beloved, What blossoms her life. Always. Bright light in the dark—
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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.
May all beings be happy.
Salaam….
where I am now after my Japanese class – this heart is filled with joy! 💝
Life is eternal. Strand of dimensions through time Bargained with good deeds Also sins. How long? You guess. Till creation’s obsolete?
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September is the month when age becomes major contemplation.
How can I get older yet be more stupid?
There is a consistent concern: that the older I am, the more things I don’t know. This impression grows stronger every year. There is only one getting better: forgetting people’s names. 😎
Will there be a world where I’m not getting older, not getting younger but growing better and brighter? I don’t know….
The convo with this good friend has always left me in deep thoughts about my own self especially in September. Thanks for the chat and good contemplation, Mbak Nungki.
Value, Beloved, Not only talked; also walked— White cane of the blind
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One teacher said talking and walking the value consistently is one of the safest way of life. Challenging though especially where many are unknown or unfamiliar—
Yet it takes integrity to stay in a value.
“Hey! What about economical value? Political value?“ asked the students.
Teacher said,”When it is about taking advantage from others, we’d better not call it value.”
“What would you call it then?”
“Hmm…. I don’t know, whatever you call it as long as you don’t harm yourself and others.”
“Sometimes those who know don’t know….,” said one student whispering almost no voice.
“Some things just don’t have exact name. They are simply known and felt,”said the teacher in the heart smiling and walking ahead.
Aah! It takes a journey to be a student. It takes a journey to be a teacher. The same journey, different lessons 💝
I want to want I want to not want I don’t want to want I don’t want to not want
Which one am I now?
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As long as I’m human being, I won’t be able to deny the want and not want. It’s not the verb, it’s the subject. A complication of thinking!
I don’t want to love you but I want to free myself to love one staying in the heart. That’s perfection!
In fact the struggle seems like a perfect circle when two ends collides: things don’t always happen as expected. Then what appears is that the simplicity of acceptance is above perception.
Simplicity is the crown of perfection. 💝
Alhamdulillah….
just do things right – when you’re angry, be angry but just do it right
Good vibes, Beloved, Contagious and precious Keep it the longest.
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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.
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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 😎
May all beings be happy.
a pile of ugly sacks; filled with all the richness of nature
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—
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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.
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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—
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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?
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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.
May all beings be happy.
going back to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs – where am I, where am I?
A horse is running In a round. To win it not; To serve the master—
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Am I the horse or the master?
If the horse, do I know enough who is my master so that I don’t just gallop whenever anyone other than the master whips me.
If the master, do I know enough how to appropriately engage with the horse and whether or not the horse has endurance for certain round either race or equestrian.
More importantly do I know what’s a horse and what’s a master?
Swaying gently down, Feather falls off from the wings Flapping. Angel smiles.
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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.
I’m a torch no more. I’m a morning for my day To be. Am I free?
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Just one click! Then the monitor shows something brighter and full of hopes! Vast ocean of happiness—
Why is it so blocked to be optimistic? Take a mirror, unlock just one sweet smile, look into the smiling face more deeply a little bit longer and know why…. Dear, Love. Just one click!
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…. 💝
Flow, Beloved. Flow.
Be a river whose stream knows
Its gravity. Yours
Is me? Making it flow back
To where a home is. Within—
—
A river is a river only when the stream is moving to a point of a pulling force. Don’t get stuck or blocked because that is when you lose your being as a river.
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....
Hujan banyak bercerita. Rintiknya, derasnya, harum tanah yang tertimpa rinainya, segar hawa yang terhirup ke dalam lubang hidung, tusukan jejarum halusnya di titik-titik syaraf, raupan basahnya ketika telapak tangan mengusap muka dan sensasi hujan yang bergesekan dengan indera. Mereka telah membentuk jejak-jejak sejarah hidup. Yang terlupakan dan yang terkenangkan selama usia.
Malam ini hujan turun, kembali membasuh lembaran kenangan. Lantunan lagu-lagu mengentalkan rasa rindu pada Kekasih.
Sudah bermalam-malam rasa cinta ini tumbuh sejak kusadari rindu tak tertahankan.
Dulu. Dulu sekali, aku pikir rindu itu datangnya dari cinta. Baru tersadari di usiaku yang sekian ini bahwa cinta itu buah rindu.
Cinta itu lubang rindu nan tak pernah berhenti menganga.
Kupikir setelah patah hati, aku tak akan mencinta lagi. Pendapat itu tinggal pendapat semu, nyatanya rasa itu datang lagi. Yang menyedihkan adalat jatuh cinta pada Dia yang sama, makin lama makin besar cintanya.
Kugali dan kugali lagi. Bukan cinta sebab semua ini.
Rindu lah yang bertanggung-jawab atas penderitaan cinta.
Rindu lah yang seharusnya kupersalahkan.
Titik-titik hujan di jendela telah berubah menjadi aliran-aliran air. Cinta yang mulanya berupa bercak-bercak di permukaan hati menjelma menjadi danau yang menjadi pengawet hati.
Hati keras menjadi melembut. Yang dulunya tegar mudah terharu. Hati yang penuh dengan nama-nama perlahan hanya mengandungi satu nama. Satu saja.
Pernahkah kau jatuh cinta?
Jika kau mengaku belum, kau harus segera mengalaminya.
Rasa ini menyiksa tapi membuat indah dunia.
Setiap mengingat Dia, manusia memulas warna baru pada senyum dan sorotan mata.
Ketika menyadari bahwa kau tak mungkin mendapatkan Dia, kau menyegarkan hati dengan pemakluman bahwa tak semua uluran tangan disambut dengan ramah.
Segeralah jatuh cinta, sebelum sang waktu menorehkan akhir cerita di kitabmu.
Jatuh cintalah dan warnai rindumu dengan kebaikan hati, penerimaan dan pemakluman. Atau jika cintamu masih muda; marahlah, kecewalah, berteriaklah, panggil namanya dengan penuh rasa niscaya hatimu akan dipenuhi dengan makna hidup yang sesungguhnya.
Rasa rinduku tak pernah hilang. Tak akan pernah sirna.
Wahai Kekasih, semakin hari rindu ini semakin menguar memekat di udara, dihirup olehku dan sesama manusia. Dan cinta ini tak akan berakhir; mungkinkah kita bersua? Doaku melagukan sebuah perjumpaan. Atau jika kita tidak ditentukan berjumpa, aku tak mau lagi berjumpa walau sekali, tak sudi kumau berjumpa.
Hujan tak kunjung berhenti. Alunan musik itu masih ada.
The sun is out, the sky is blue
There's not a cloud to spoil the view
But it's raining, raining in my heart
The weatherman says clear today
He doesn't know you've gone away
And it's raining, raining in my heart
Oh, misery, misery
What's gonna become of me?
I tell my blues they mustn't show
But soon these tears are bound to flow
'Cause it's raining, raining in my heart
But it's raining, raining in my heart
And it's raining, raining in my heart
Oh, misery, misery
What's gonna become of me?
I tell my blues they mustn't show
But soon these tears are bound to flow
'Cause it's raining, raining in my heart
Raining in my heart
Raining in my heart
Caterpillar feet
March on a twig. Oops! They flip.
Scary acrobat!
It looks up to the blue skies,
Prepares to cocoon itself.
—
Butterfly is never really born. It is a natural breakthrough after the hungry caterpillar is willing to go fasting and liquidize itself in seclusion. When it is time, a butterfly comes into being.
You might be not a colourful pretty butterfly but cocooning should have taught you that your present being is the output of a long resting period after such a long euphoric period of being a hungry caterpillar. The euphoric being is gone, replaced by a winged soft being flying and dancing celebrating the moving air around its body.
Your wings might be just pitch black but they are the result of how sincere you are in a transformative sleep hanging in a weak twig, without knowing if you’ll be slapped down when the twig is broken, without knowing that you’ll be aborted because of the wet, without knowing that the end is the end or a transition point. You just don’t know but you accept your not knowing.
You might not be as pretty as the most beautiful butterfly out there but…. You’ve gone through the same quality of cycle – not less not more. Thanks to fair Mother Nature.
To be “born” winged, fly, help the flowers pollinate before fruition and magically create graceful move with super powerful effect….
Don’t be upset for being a flipping hungry caterpillar’ coz when you’re transformed, your flapping wings can blow a typhoon!
I had a conversation with a good friend, the topic was “sign”. This particular friend cannot read most of non verbal signs and hints from her spouse clearly. What her spouse shows non verbally won’t trigger any curiosity from her; except when he expresses it verbally then she will understand. Facial gestures, body language, more seriously mental vibration won’t do her any ring anymore.
I thought it was strange as a couple should be able “to read” each other’s feeling or idea with a blink of an eye! At least that’s my ideal couple goal.
Then after a while I can relate to what has happened to me.
I’ve been living away from family for more than 25 years; the 7 of which I’ve lived totally home alone (cats and other pets not counted). And that 7-year period is when I think I’ve lost the ability to read what my family is trying to communicate to me. We either don’t understand “the language” or we just can’t accept “the reasoning”. When it comes to language, I feel that our ability to read kinds of personal or cultural gestures have diminished either with my ignorance to their loving and caring behaviour or with their insensitivity to my practicality and logical thinking. We just don’t know how to match things in many occasions and usually we’ll just tolerate each other by saying “no worry, as long as you are happy and healthy”.
When I asked what happened to my friend and her spouse, she said “I just don’t know what language I should use to communicate with him”. Hmm exactly what I experience with my mother and siblings.
“Why don’t you try guessing whatever you see from him? Just to show that you care?”
“I’ve tried but it looks unnatural. He asked me why I did weird questioning and guessing.”
“It is ok, unnatural at the beginning but will be natural when you find the click”.
“We won’t find a click anymore. We are not happy and not meant to be.”
Eh?
At that point I couldn’t say anything. I think she is not illiterate, she’s seriously desperate.
Gosh! Life is a mystery! We, her close circle have always thought they’re the happiest and I’m the lonely. Now I think it is time to be thankful just for a minute to be happier even than the happiest.
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