This heart's umbrella.
Doubted, she's up to protect
And to let all go.

once i was doubted and so i let all go — it is humiliated to be distrusted while the heart is true
graphs of my Universe
This heart's umbrella.
Doubted, she's up to protect
And to let all go.

once i was doubted and so i let all go — it is humiliated to be distrusted while the heart is true
I collapsed, high fever, nausea, headache, painful joints, short breathing, coughing, name it….
It is the first after 3 years. Probably I am too tired: Universe told me “self isolation for 72 hours”. Lucky the 72 hours end in Saturday so I can fly out on Sunday. Hope I get well soon.
It’s between broken health in which I feel so weak physically and broken heart in which I feel so isolated. 😁
There is always lesson. Learn.
I just want to sleep….

doctor said “self isolation” due to that bloody virus 🥴😁❣️

getting home, i felt so exhausted and lethargic and heaty

still so excited but feeling so much hot that day while biking – wrong timing
I decided to go out with Blue to breathe the day labeled as Jan 1, 2025. Water lilies were there closing or hiding after blooming in the morning. They will emerge again tomorrow morning to greet the sun.







About a year, Love
Where you're present and again
Giving me all joy-
2024 was such a year! Thanks much for the one year teaching me again to warmly love sincerely with little to no condition: unclear hints that broke my heart. Life is not always about glory; it’s also losing to win lessons.
2024 was about sudden trips & data as professional breakfast & lunch. I see how fast I process biased opinions & immediately detour to the right path! Such a training by & for brain muscles!
2025 is about continuing my spiritual journey with the same foundation: singularity, uniqueness & humanity;
also about doing my life work with dedication & expertise;
sweet friendship with those that respect and love each other as best friend;
about enjoying long weekends in Korine Jati soon & enjoying longer holiday somewhere else;
about keeping sharing the blessings with those around me verbally, materially, intelectually & spiritually in moderation;
& knowing & loving myself again, again, again….
…. all genuinely & with light heart.
Welcome, 2025. I already feel your sweetness.
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025

dear, monkey mind

i don’t regret but it was the most painful moment in 2024 and thankfully i was helped by my life work

i love my messy hair that gets happy with breeze caressing it and my eyes that tell even when my mouth shuts

2024, thank you for bringing Banksy’s works of art to Scotts Road
Splashed by clear water
And refreshed, she looks forward
To seeing the sun.
Opening the door,
She's welcomed by clear rain drops
Freshening the breath.

hibiscus
And the water flows
Down the curve earth to bring
Message of the heart.
flow
flow
This morning I talked with my nephews about Meta AI chats done by many in the Net. They said I ought to try a chat and I did.
Here is my 2nd chat with Meta AI in which I asked questions related to love; my 1st was asking about Singapore today which is not so interesting to share.












Of thousands of dreams
Flowing, blocked, flowing again
With love, not anger--
Do I have many dreams? If many is defined by number based on Arabic rule in which more than 2 is many, I do have many dreams.
My biggest dream is to materialise my home where my family and friends will occasionally gather to chat around and to enjoy my cooking. My next dream is to travel to Morocco and Macchu Picchu with a loved one before I die. A loved one can be my best friend, my lover or my own self– it depends on the time, space and my final decision. The next ones are not so significant to share with many, let me keep them with myself.
Last night I conversed with my family about dream and there were so many dreams disclosed, from the mildest to the wildest. Then we put contexts on how each of us wanted to make the dreams come true. There were laughs and smiles and grins and opinions and feedbacks and compliments. We enjoyed teasing each other until finally everyone had to go back to each room for rest.
Those younger have dreams that I cannot even digest. The oldest of us has the mildest dream yet to me among all of us it is a powerful one: releasing everything before one dies.
Big dreamer, medium dreamer, small dreamer, tiny dreamer, meaningful dreamer, meaningless dreamer, whatever dreamer…. All are labels: do I care or not? I do care to sort who gives me labels: the labels are not important to me so I don’t mind people label me based on what they know about me but how they do it: genuinely or with prejudice, with anger or with love. The labels given to me is not about right or wrong, it’s about layers of my dear self. The labels given to me is about how people care about me based on their points of view– I can move to adjust the view or they can do.
My dream might be simple: having a(nother) home and that’s why I am called a simple dreamer by most friends but do they know what values I put into anything to build it: the design, the material, the character of the people involving in the projects, the prayer I request from all the elderly from my parents’ families, etc– they are precious to me. My cousin can be labeled as a simple dreamer just because she wants to release everything before she dies but do people know how life has toughened her that she has nothing but anger that can crack her with one soft touch and so she needs to let the toughness go to let softness embrace her soul?
Dreams can be used by people to label others. Some don’t want to be labeled. Some are ok to be labeled. Some don’t care with any labels. Those three are valid ways to protect themselves from cracking under pressure, the flexibility applied to glue the self together to walk the path of of dreams.
Whether the dreams can be achieved or not is not even the dreamer job to decide. I’ve seen dreamers cry, scold, die with dreams not coming true. Does it matter? No. The most important thing is the dreamer walks one’s path of dreams.
Whether labels affect the dreamer is another story. Although a dreamer says “Don’t label me” but one’s heart gets busy with false labeling, one is still in doubt. Although a dramer says “Label me I am ok” but one’s heart is still filtering the labels based on bias, one will be in doubt. Although a dreamer says “I don’t care about labels” but one still asks for opinions here and there without wising up, one will still doubt.
Yet is it wrong to doubt? No….
So?

Nothing really matters.
Just walk or fly or dive the paths of dreams, dear dreamers.
Words are just dust that cover the glass and so needs to be removed. Opinions and feedbacks are probably just judgment that cloud the view and so needs to be wiped. Evaluation is assessment is probably distraction and so needs to be thrown away. Forget it.
Me? I am a dreamer that walks my path of dreams, whether it is right or wrong, this mind will take the risk; whether it is small or big, this heart will contain it; whether it is good or bad, this thought will embrace it; whether my dream is coloured or black-and-white, this view will witness it; whether this dream is judged or not, I will acceot it. This self will only care to the words from those coming with love, not anger.
I am flowing, deciding to move on to what my dreams call beautiful: LOVE. I won’t evaluate others who only want complimet and agreement, I will be back to my consent of 2024: I am flowing quietly and calmly by knowing real blockage and debris so I live real although walking on path of dreams.
With your bless, dear Beloved.





to pray hilariously:
please keep these joints well lubricated & creak less,
allow me to afford bright-coloured lipsticks as most around me love smile more than gifts,
grant me clear thinking so I can converse reasonably with both the genius & the idiot,
lend me a bit of fresh kindness so I still look good although I'm not pretty,
let me be silly & have silly friends so I won't look silly alone,
make me wise & rich in silence as it will save some time & energy,
if I forget, please remind me
if you forget, no you won't forget for me.
yours truly,
a human being calling herself me

You're so beautiful
Glowing among sailing clouds
Bringing memories.

beautiful as a pure heart
a small gift of i love you
my love to you is as much as the space among drizzles washing off my sadness
my love to you is as much as the pouring rain among the space giving me pure breeze
this weekend has welcomed me with sprinkling blessings like the rain in a desert
each day is a new day when sky opens wider horizon and shows me what i didn't see
do you feel the same?
the space among the rain
the pouring rain
the desert that celebrates
a horizon that keeps widening--
i love you.

thank you for making me smile a lot
💙
in life i learn to accept that love is sometimes not enough; it takes strategy to make things happen and i don’t want to strategize in love
i don’t want to force because i believe life has given me so much so if i don’t get what i want, it doesn’t mean a loss
that i have the ability to love as sincerely as possible is a huge blessing; that i don’t show it openly, it is to ensure everyone’s safety, dignity and comfort
flow, flow, flow
i love you, i love you, i love you
Less looks more daring
When this heart wishes to rest,
Avoiding dead end.

today’s dinner — less favourite noodle, the udon
If I'm a mother,
I'd be my children's student
And their wisdom guide.
I had a Sunday cafe date with a friend while she was accompanying her son having taekwondo class nearby.
Like usual only with this friend I can always agree to go out of my home at weekend except when I am really caught up with urgent work. With her (and her husband and children) I can talk freely with loud laughter without being afraid of any judgement. They are perhaps my closest friends here in Singapore.
One of the today’s topics was mother.
We know quite a bit about both of our journey of relationship with mothers. As daughter we had almost the same experience of dealing with mother: acceptance to be a daughter of a woman with very different mindset and nurturing experience.
Our acceptance to our mother’s love evolved beautifully. Both of us have realised how much our mothers love us and how much we both love those women called mother. It was just a matter of positioning based on respect and understanding. It is always about knowing what and how love manifests in life.

oolong tea, thanks for witnessing friends’ laughter and genuine talk
That she is herself a mother of two children has taught her what a mother’s love means. To me I experienced various conflicts and arguments with my mother until at one point I realised how hard it was to be in her position and how hard to me to accept the fact that I have to accept my position before her culturally, biologically and ethically.
This friend likes to share with me how she raises her kids and the vice versa, I also like to give case studies and see how she treats some situations. Among all married friends she might be the one I would like to be like in most situations, not all as we still have different opinions in some topics if I am a mother (I know it is just an if as I don’t even have a hope to be someone’s wife at this age). She is open to communicate with her kids and husband up to a level of sitting at a round table to openly argue about things; at the same time she has her boundary at which point a mother stops to force and at which line a child must respect parents.
Today’s was our last 2024’s meet-up. She will fly to Karuizawa, Japan on Dec 11 until end of year and I will finish my work before end-of-year’s home country leave for a short while.
This friend always makes me miss my mother.
Ibu, I will call you tomorrow morning…. Know that I will always love you . Know that I will say yes if you become my mother again in my next life.
💗
The mangos that fly from across the sea,
The nectarines that stare at me,
The plums that hide among their fellow fresh,
The trio that will not stop fascinating me
Until I happily cry
To close the weekend.
Refreshing tears into
Fresh weekend--

what is fresher than a basket of fruit?
You are butterflies
Flying around my heart
Tickling me to whisper
I love you.
But where are
You?
Hiding behind signs
That I've misunderstood,
Disguised between symbols
That I've wrongly guessed,
None is solely for me.

My heart jumped
Still jumps
But will she jump after
A gesture that was told
Hopefully not right
About a love that is discriminated?
Is my love still true?
Or will there be a light
Telling me otherwise?

is it as gossipped and gestured? or not? – i never know as i don’t see consistency and directness in the messages sent
What do I have to write about
You today?
My pen doesn't want to move, she said "The poem about him is like a blinking tiny beacon afar, signing on and off. Hard to read."
What do I have to feel about
You today?
My heart doesn't want to move, she said "The poem about him is like a flickering will of wisps swaying weakly. Hard to follow."
What do I have to believe about
You today?
My mind doesn't want to continue explaining, she said "The poem should be a prose that will take so much time to complete. Hard to describe."
What do I have to accept about
You today?
My soul doesn't give any sign but smiling, she said "The power is not what you need. Only love suits your journey. If not love, let go. Hard to digest."
What do I have to let go about
You, Today?
My life doesn't want to stop laughing, she said "Laugh when gaslighted. Smile when gaslighted. Look when gaslighted. Never strike
back. Stay or walk away. Peacefully. Not as hard as thought or felt or believed or planned."
I stay in the same plane to keep walking with my love poems for you, Today.

life is an opera, the most illogical and grandest one at times
How long do you think I write one poem? Less than one minute up to as long as 20 minutes.
I never use AI. Never and probably will never except using AI is the only way for me to live.
My poem is always about what happens to me or at me. It is always about what I love or not love. Is it always about love? Yes, because the only relevant thing to life is love: it can be romantic love, platonic love, family love, friendship love, dedication to work, compassion, self love, love to Love.
I feel it so flowing when I write love poem, it takes me snap of fingers to make it happen. When I am stressed after some meeting, I will type a haiku. When I am in the aeroplane sleepless, I will usually write love poem in my small book. Writing poem is never a distraction, it is a motivation to get fresher and braver and to perform better.
One more thing: the depth of the poem not only depends on my mood and calmness but also the mood and calmness of the subject recited in the poem. It would be so much calmness when I write about my little brother; much bravery about my sister, much fun about my older brother. My early poems in 2008 up to 2012 is full with expression of depression, around 2014 to 2017’s is energizing energy, 2019’s is liberation and blessings to forward movement. And 2024’s poems feel a bit heavy with a feel of being played around but still flowing rather heavily on positivity.
I kind of enjoy the altered energy everytime the writing of poem involves different stories and objects; so much enlightening inside and giving energy to keep the faith in this silent journey within.
Specifically past 3 months I’ve felt big energy of gaslighting and game playing. I am just observing and doing best to evaluate whether it is what’s inside me projecting my own despair or reflecting a despair from outside me.
No matter what, love poem is still my preferrence.
Early morning letter to self
One day the noise vanishes
And I meet myself.
That's when I face
The real wind,
The real fire,
The real water,
The real forest,
The real iron,
The real marketplace.
The real that was just a narrative before.
The real within--

meditating is not as complicated as it seems
My first experience of meditation was in 2010. I guess it was the most stressful event (the biggest drama because I was still a drama queen) triggering me to join a meditation group in South Tangerang.
It was weekly, guided by a teacher who happened to be a teacher of almost everything called “magical” by all of the students. He taught us how to move objects without touching it, how to self talk, how to sense energy around our body or objects, how to telepath, etc until we realised that those things are not magic; they are simply natural based on each of the students’ gifts and/or training. My fellow meditators were those among others who communicate to animals, who draw someone’s “spiritual condition”, who “read” numbers, who heal using gemstones, who read tarot cards, who do past life regression and so on and so forth.
Me? None, I just sing and write poems although Pak Sonny Sumarsono Wuryadi (our teacher) said I would be a healer overseas — please note I didn’t even have a plan to move by then. And now I am not even a healer; I am still healing myself with no end. 😀
All those skills emerge only after we silence ourselves. Without silence no one can truly eject their inner gifts to the surface for one’s self (and others) to acknowledge. But silence is sometimes scary. To me especially my first silence was not comfortable: all those inner noises that were suppressed by busy work, packed schedules, noisy environment suddenly had to face the only noise that is more eloquent than a blunt message.
It took me around one year to be able to finally meditate “quietly” but still in a short time. And it was still guided, either by music or by recorded teacher’s instruction. Sometimes when exhausted, I would meditate while lying down (then falling asleep 🤪).
Although not gaining any “magical skills” like others, I earned calmness and gradually claimed back the reality after getting hit by my own life lessons. It was a basic skill that gave me courage to say no, confidence to be different and spirit to contribute to life.
Thank you, Seroja. You have equipped me with simple tips of meditation: “silence your surrounding, listen to your own noise even if that noise is the only calm you gain” and “you can sleep in your meditation because sleeping is the deepest state of meditation”.
I bless you Pak Sonny and all my fellow Seroja meditators. We might not meet anymore but my prayer is reaching you anywhere you are.
I have teachers in life.
Some make me cry.
Some make me speak.
Some make me walk.
Some make me hold.
Some make me laugh.
Some make me smile.
All make me sense.
All make me think.
One makes me love.

only you, love
making me a human being, not a plant, not an animal, not a geenie, not an angel
I'm not a prophet,
Not a saint. I'm a human
Accepting a lane.

if i am allowed to choose, i’d like to be in the lane of flower where colours, shapes and scents are with me
but this ability to smell nice fragrance in life is accompanied by the ability to smell bad odors
and so accepting the lane with its duality and paradox is the only way
This heart has been touched
By a breeze secretly blown
By the air of love.

i will keep learning, unlearning, relearning
life is beyond what eyes can see; even eyes can’t see what’s blocked by a sheet of paper
voice can be cancelled by a block on the ears
touch can be blocked by leather gloves
taste can be blocked by a no to appetite
but this heart will be wide open to inner journey whatever they think, whatever they say, whatever they do
Early morning after QS Arrahman
How I love you?
Much
How much?
I can't tell you how much but I can tell you how.
My love is not commodity
That you transact about.
My love is not a content
That you measure up.
My love is a river
Flowing as long as you be the channel.
My love is a breeze
Blowing as long as you be the air.
My love is colours
Showing as long as you be the light.
Yet I know the love you wish
Is different.
You want me to be wood to burn,
Water to drink,
Bread to eat,
Game to play.
I feel delighted that you have such fun.
I am waiting for the wisdom to grow.
If the fun outgrows wisdom by the time we travel together, this love will wither before it blooms.
So that's how I love you and how much you need.

RC Gorman’s work of art
Their yellow petals
Look out to a Sunday rain
And whisper
"Dear, Sun. Our beauty decorates a home showered by rain, waiting for your ray. Don't hide too long."

sunflowers looking out to a rainy Sunday whispering to the hiding Sun
Tell me, Beloved,
Your light shows me light journey.
These steps are now light.

me and Blue, ready to greet the wet earth after rain

hi, home 💕

what will be across the resevoir?

light on the railway
You must be logged in to post a comment.