Sambac grows after the rain.
Sweet fragrance breezes.
Sambac grows after the rain.
Sweet fragrance breezes.
With love, Beloved,
All is done and completed.
How would she not thank?
Cool breeze sweeping the valley
Moisturised by dew—
Dew drops slide, meet in a line;
River of blessings—
Weekend is mostly about staying home finding sweet surprises.
Thank you for the weekly break and lots of mini blessings!
The joy, Beloved,
Prancing light and smiling bright;
Warm heart fills the air.
Look around. Message is everywhere.
Dipping her days in colours,
Leaving her in awe—
Thanks God for the flowers around which have helped me much to be in good mood. Suddenly get the urge to ritually pray and thank for all the blessings sprinkled on to me—
Weekend, bring me to Masjid Sultan. 🥰
How are you, Yellow?
Happiness, warmth, sunshine, or
Other perfect fits.
Nature never fails to convince me that all are beautiful given appropriate angles. Not all love winter but with the yellow crocus growing in the middle of white snow, who will say no?
Yellow isn’t my favourite colour but the yellow crocus is one of those I’m wanting to see with naked eyes to witness Mother Earth’s generosity even in its coldest period.
May time lets me explore more places on earth.
SIN – May 25, 2022 / 21:57
Filling the air,
Expanding time that kills
With infinity and mystery.
This strand has threaded millions of pearls of breathing taken one by one.
This is also a ribbon that goes miles and miles scripted with memories loaded with emotions.
There is one last pearl and there is a period. Only time knows at which point—
Only flowers can fill the gap while waiting.
They are food and garnish at the same time,
Bride and groom,
Prayer and curse,
Bright and pale,
Symbolised and clarity,
Birth and death,
Duality in one bouquet.
This lounge feels alive
With the flower arrangement sitting at the corner,
Waiting to depart.
Life is forever, crossing one bridge to another. Alfatihah.
Temasek – Apr. 18, 2022 / 20:14
Woven coloured threads
Build a spread of table cloth,
Freshening guests’ eyes.
While white is the most beautiful colour, bright colours are good choices to brighten most days!
Welcome, tired eyes to a realm of colours.
Singapore – Apr. 14, 2022 / 21:00
Up and down the hills
The feet walk, the heart stands still.
Journey of the nights—
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. 💞
Thanks for giving me days and nights.
May all beings be happy❣️
How are you, flowers?
You’ve greeted me with colours,
Loved me with fragrance.
The canvas has been waiting
To perpetuate your beauty.
Only heaven knows when the “flowers on canvas” project will be completed. Let’s take picture of flowers before painting them.
Time travels with you
To where good memories sit,
Waiting to rejoice.
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.
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!
It’s about flower in its life cycle.
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.
Even though they’re weed,
They’re flower, ready to bloom.
Truly as they are.
Respect each other as all of us have become us with no choice but traveling the paths we’ve agreed to sign up. Early termination doesn’t apply; life is about starting and completing what’s written.
Respect each other. At least….
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.
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.
In love, Beloved,
With life witnessed by flowers
That bloom in my heart.
I love but also don’t love myself.
A wreath, Beloved,
A circle packed with beauty,
Arranged true colours—
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.
Your own self 💞
Wasted it’s never
If blooming or not. Pretty
In its full cycle.
Blessed again with 5 beautiful flower stems, accompanied by other beautiful growing not blooming orchids.
Beauty is not only in the flower. It is in the root, leaves, keiki, pot and their presence everyday.
Fertilized with poisons? Dead!
Cinder rose goes off.
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.