The isle, Beloved
Sails inch by inch through calm breeze
Telling me to breathe.
Island
Tag: breathing
Breathing
.
Breathing is about circulating CO2 and O2 scientifically. Breathing is about welcome and sayonara mentally. Breathing is about the rhythms and rhymes chosen by one to sing the life path. Breathing is about slowing down and racing on the chosen way.
Which one have I chosen?
My breathing is a center that I'll go back in any daily situation. When happy, I'll go check my breathing. When angry, I'll do the same. When calm, I can feel my breathing slow and soft. When this and when that, I won't let myself depart without managing my breathing. How much fast or slow the breathing is, I will make it calm and long.
My breathing is my anchor that I should release or retrieve based on need.
Dear, Breath.
Never leave me behind, or
Let me walk ahead.
We should travel side by side.
Ripples
Your breath, Beloved,
Reaches me between my breath
And whispers your love.
You touch this heart through ripples
That moves dust from its surface.
clear and true 💕
Stuffy
Stuffy, Beloved
It's airless and no laughter.
Go out for breathing.
tada!!! tofu-stuffed squid for today 😍
tofu, carrot, spring onion
squid — now I know why it should be big squid, the small will be difficult to be stuffed
Rest In Peace, Sweet Soul
Tears are footsteps
To friendship
Or
Away from it.
Tears of joy,
Tears of sadness,
Tears of letting go
Repeatedly
Until letting go
Becomes breathing.
female, young, kind, intelligent, high integrity, humorous , pretty! A loving wife, mother, friend 💕
Rest in peace, dear Laksmi 🌸
#utangrasa
Breathing
Living is breathing.
A quest of in and out air
To define meaning
—
breathing day for some of my beautiful batik, the Javanese exhibition of wisdom
One of treatments to handmade batik is letting them breath or in Javanese language we call it “angin-angin” that is literally “wind-wind” — hanging batik clothes in fresh air, not directly under the sun to let them be in contact with air to decrease the humidity.
Enjoy your breathing.
❣️
Poetry
My breathing is poetry.
It brings in inspiration,
Emits meaning.
My dreaming is poetry.
It attracts hopes,
Depicts reality.
My walking is poetry.
It steps on milestones,
Follows you.
——
when time is coming, let my poetry be with me 💕
Music
Close your eyes tight
If you hate to see me.
You will fall asleep
Peacefully.
Unlucky you,
Beloved.
You cannot block your ears
If you hate my music.
Your earbuds will amplify it
Loudly.
You will get used to it
And die while joyfully humming it.
My music,
My breathing
Will become your music,
Your breathing.
A
Heart
Beats—
—
inspired by QS 15:29
Breathing
Breathing, Beloved,
Dive with it slowly, knowing
It can blaze and burn.
—
So much swarmed in mind today. This brain was so busy processing unclear things that it could not process what truly happened within. All dots of thoughts felt like molecules bumping with and crashing each other in Brownian motion. The internal Brownian motion expanded externally and bad mood caused physical discomfort.
For around 12 hours the bad mood and physical discomfort was densely lingering. Reading, cooking, eating, drawing, writing, washing, watching YouTube, listening music, checking suitcase for next trip, taking shower, even sleeping didn’t help stabilise the emotion. Alamak I didn’t understand what was going on.
At dusk time I took a seat in one bedroom corner, closed eyes and paid attention to breathing. Very fast— it was not my normal breathing speed. Then trapped emotions were found: unexplainable insecurity and anger. After around 30 minutes normalising my breathing speed, the bad mood was totally gone.
I’m sorry for ignoring you, breathing. It can’t be denied that my physical has given me signs of what happened inside. This physical has always reminded me about what emotions are dominating. The dominating emotion indicates what energy is attracted — positive or negative. Don’t ignore signs given by body; not even once!
Lesson learnt: Some dominating stuffs don’t deserve priority. Severe weather, bitter messages, false news —even if affecting me— deserve to be smacked down! Don’t try me, bitch(es)! 😄
New week is gonna be nice! 🤓
Alfatihah.
Fine Gold
Fine gold, Beloved, alchemists’ masterpiece through millions of failures
—
By end of this life she’ll be at least a master of breathing….
…. who will stop breathing at the peak of the mastery 😀
Unapproved alchemist! 😀
Negation Is (Now) Good
Negative, Beloved,
New paradigm that builds life;
Breathing is blessings.
—
I thought that virus was reluctant to approach me until that funny doctor said bitterly to me last week “The Gov will SMS directly to you but these sudden symptoms give me a hint. Take care.”
After some inconsistent (+) and (-), being a lethargic patient (the virus pulled all muscles down) and a slow thinker (MZ sent me a confusing email of mine) of home quarantine, I’m back to my own self!
Thanks for toning this pride down. I was not that healthy.
Thanks for curing me. I’m dependent on You.
💝
Find Love
Find love, Beloved,
Through the air breathed in and out.
No end of blessings-
—
Weekend is about breathing with zero sighing.
Can’t imagine life with no space to just stop for a while. 💝
Tickling My Ego
Sometimes I’m somebody
At a conference room
Where win-win
Isn’t always a solution.
Powerful—
Decisive—
Sometimes I’m anybody
When long lost friends
Suddenly say hi and cry
“Would you please help? Would you help?”
Unconditional—
Used—
Sometimes I’m everybody
When I blindly devote myself,
When I wholeheartedly do everything needed,
When I run around everywhere to find you.
Preoccupied—
Stand-alone—
Sometimes I’m nobody
When I feel my heart beats,
My breath slows down with calmness,
When I know nobody is with me.
Blissful—
Submissive—
Thanks, my body.
You’re a complete gift to me.
I dedicate the above free verse to Emily Dickinson who has touched my life with many of her poems especially “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”
🐣
Salaam.
You’re The Scent
Where are you, perfume?
Cask’s empty, you linger here
Yet nowhere to meet.
How long will you last? These breaths
Trace you through the moving air.
————————————————————
What you can’t see doesn’t always not exist. What you can sense can’t always be understood.
Life is as simple as breathing in and out.
Salaam… 💞
The Entertaining Uncle Roger
I felt a bit sick today and kind of needed a big refresher before sleeping. I decided to revisit a YouTube video to just get some laughter or at least generous grinning.
Enjoy!
Flute – haiku
Breathing out the wind
Through a flute– she is finding
The tide of the sea.
Temasek – April 16, 2018 – 22:15
Picture borrowed from https://flute247.com/yamaha-yfl-221-vs-222-flute-comparison/
Kangen
Rasanya kangen menjadi anak-anak ketika apapun tak membuatku dinilai – betas sebebas kucing mau tidur, meang-meong, berantem, berteman dengan siapapun tanpa ragu berbagi cerita.
Asyik sekali jadi kanak-kanak. Memandang sesuatu tidak dengan penghakiman dan tidak takut dihakimi karena yang kutahu adalah suka dan ketulusan. Nggak takut orang nggak suka….
Mau bagaimana, sekarang sudah dewasa mau bertingkah mesti mikir umur, lingkungan mengawasi dengan berbagai macam mata: mulai mata buta hingga mata mikroskop.
Oh, ternyata masih ada rasa takut di hatiku – mau tak mau kualami saja. Nggak ada salahnya jadi dewasa di depan orang dewasa dan menjadi kanak dalam kesendirianku dan di hadapan para pengembara. Mereka para pengembara itu tak sempat menghakimi karena bicaranya adalah hakim bagi dirinya sendiri, pandangan matanya adalah pantulan bayangannya sendiri, semua tentang dirinya sendiri maka mereka tak akan murka. Kanak-kanak adalah bagian dari kejujuran.
Gambar dipinjam dari http://cosmic-soup.com/nasal-breathing/
Marah, marahlah secara kanak-kanak – secara jujur, bukan kepura-puraan, kemarahan yang menyentuh, karena sepatu satu-satunya dicolong bukan karena sepasang dari sepuluh pasang sepatumu hilang. Sedih karena kucingnya mati bukan karena patung kucing keramikmu jatuh dan pecah. Malu karena masuk kelas terlambat, bukan karena tidak juara….
Tak mudah menjadi kanak-kanak karena kemurnian yang dijalankan. Ah, ini bukan kanak-kanak lagi; hanya teori ha ha ha….
Yah, sudahlah…. Biar kuhadirkan diriku dalam kesendirian saja. Khalayak hanya suka dipuja…. Nafas mereka adalah keramaian, aku mati di dalamnya. Nafasku harus keheningan, saat nafaspun tak sadar siapa dirinya…..
Yio Chu Kang Rd – 5 September 2014, 12:05 dini hari
rike jokanan 
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