One word, Beloved
Expressed to draw emotions
That flow out of cells--

trapped

torn

zigzagging

slipped
graphs of my Universe
One word, Beloved
Expressed to draw emotions
That flow out of cells--

trapped

torn

zigzagging

slipped
Life is just like that.
It is round, square, triangle
Seen from three angles.
Life is just like that.
Like what?
Like what I’ve never thought but I can handle it by letting go.
I thank Gusti Allah for making me a human being so I can experience being human who lives as an ordinary person, maybe less than ordinary 🤐
It is everyday lessons come and go. Some challenging, some lighter. Some are leveled up or completed, in fact some are repeated. Repetition of lessons means that a human being fails to accept what is favourable to now here and to let go of what is not favourable for the soiritual journey to achieve clarity about being human. I’m one of this that’s why I learn from all of you. ☺️
As much as I want no repetition of mistakes though I will accept life as it is, still with kindness. Kindness to whom? To myself and to others although being kind to myself might be a delayed kindness to others — it doesn’t matter, it is just about time or perception.
Photo: Yes, I will always be seen half or less than half by those who see themselves partially: either good or evil, not even a sweet arrangement of those two.
Life is just like that. ☺️

In between if there is a gap,
It's to bridge,
Not to separate.

if you are between two, quit; said I to myself always 😊
Dream asked me
"Do you trust me?"
Why, said I.
"Please do, I need wings to fly."
I stared at her,
Wondering who her wings were.
She didn't say a word. She moved her chin
Toward me.
I am? Asked I, surprised and delighted.
It started drizzling,
Breeze caressed my face.
I soared.
I heard soft voice swirling up
To the sky,
Flying with her smile.
How painful it was for both of us!
One was waiting, the other was not realizing.
How lucky we were to wake up in one morning together.
And we are still having fun,
Sitting in a swing hanging on a giant tree,
Thanking to each other.

dreams are those balancing her constant walks
Love loves, Beloved
Love loved by a loved lover
To be beloved.

Some of my friends have very strong concern about my love life and so they “take care of it” very seriously. They often check if I go dating, sign up the online dating apps, met anyone in the biz trips, if this, or that.
Normally all answers make them annoyed or laugh as I usually respond to them in light ways. Anything not giving me positive impacts or real things should not be part of a weighed consideration to deeply converse. Let go….
Recently life has given me various brain teasers in past weeks: so much forgetting daily personal things (collecting skincare, collecting my Dyson after repaired, lunch bag, ID badge, etc) and…. (drum rolls) friends checking my love life so often by tagging me in instastory that I mostly ignored, WhatsApping me with love-love questions, direct messaging me in Instagram about love-love things, and so on.
“Are you dating? You seem so radiant. I know your romantic words are for someone not for your Beloved. Tell me.” Said one of them.
Woohoo! Will never tell…. 🤪 None of anyone in the world should know whom I love until it is certain whom I will share life with. They can know I am in love and that’s it. If nothing happens, then it is a secret for the rest of this life. Age has taught me how to deal with safety, security, confidentiality and integrity.
One more friend tagged me in an instastory as if telling me to open my heart and blahblahblah….
Friends make my life fun! I love them with all my heart because I know they just want me to be happy.
Ahhh! I just want to sleep well welcoming Chinese New Year holiday.

Walking in the forest deep, she was stopped by questions in her dancing mind.
Who am I?
I'm a living being
Walking her path.
What is the path? There seems none.
The path is becoming with her steps taken. An imaginary line drawn by hopes and fear, faith and science, clarity and mystery; two poles balancing distance and time--
Where is the path heading to?
The path is heading to where the North Star is.
Where is the North Star?
The North Star is a constant bright: that sits still to help find direction, that can be found in a clear unlit night above Mother Earth's magical belt, that loves wordless hymns.
It is lurking dark, but
You are bright
Showering my night.
Don't set.
Don't rise.
Be there
In the north
So I can always call
You
My North Star.
Polaris,
Wrap me with luck.
Amen.

The world keeps spinning.
The body ages with time.
Trip in alignment--
Don’t be afraid of becoming old. Aging is truly a blessing.
With the gray hair I feel wisdom befriends with me. Still I have freedom to dye it to look radiant.
With the wrinkle on the skin I find kindness and understanding unfolds. Yet it is not wrong to put skincare to look healthy and fresh.
With weaker eyes I find my mind is sharper evaluating my self and environment. I can still wear reading spectacles to keep reading to refresh brain.
With less hydrated joints and less dense bones I move more slowly cum gracefully. There is no harm though to do sports regularly.
With fewer friends I still get good updates accurately about how the world spins and enjoy true relationship with little to no condition.
Eventually aging is about knowing that soul will release the physical body when they body is ultimately deteriorated, when time is up. I just need to ensure that this body knows she is never alone or lonely in the separation process.
Celebrate life!

see you next month, Hanoi
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
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

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.
💗
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'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
You can replace me
With another intelligence
Or beauty.
But I worry not,
I am myself a space
That doesn't need a place or
Replace.
If replacing me
Is saving
You,
Please feel free.

irreplaceable you are
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
There are scars, dear heart.
They stay. Painless, ugly and
Bringing back a day--

some mirrors will remind me of the day these scars were then wounds caused by incidents committed through actions either well planned or lousily coincided
forgiving but not forgetting is not as easy as how i say
have i forgiven? or should i be forgetful?
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
I will love you
As an empty jar
Waiting for streams of words
Telling me stories,
Containing drops of secrets
Petrifying in our soul,
Concocting ingredients of ideas
Writing beautiful love stories,
Catching breeze of affection
Weaving sheet of loyalty.

loving you like i am an empty jar
She's an empty jar
Longing for your rain to pour.
Fragrance of dried clay--

what do we want to pour into ou empty jar? blessings or cursing? love or ignorance? up to us–
Why love poem, my love?
It's you writing in my heart
That longs for her rose.
My liking to poem started at early age with the pantun jenaka (Indonesian four-lined poem, mostly witty and light) in Bahasa Indonesia lesson book and the Javanese poem contained in mocopat (Javanese traditional songs) and geguritan (Javanese free verse) in Jayabaya magazine subscribed by our parents. I also loved reading books and comics but poetry has given me more room to explore meanings and imagination.
I’ve written diary since I learnt how to compose paragraph. I wrote poems to express emotion that I could not describe through prose because of the emotion complexity and also I wanted to make beautiful expression.
And as I studied Literature in uni, poetry became integrated part of my days. I wrote a lot of poems but most were gone with the paper pulping and the floppy disks rotten.
I used to write poem about nature as I loved Robert Frost, William Wordsworth, John Keats’ works.
Over the time especially when I started reading Rumi and Ibn Arabi, I started to use more word love, beloved, lover and all things related to them. And I also love to use the word river, sea, meadow and some nature related words. It is simply because those words can represent the vibe, nuance, atmosphere and foundation of idea in me.
When I talk about love, is it always about love? Yes, it is always about love because the only topic relevant to life is love.
When I talk about love, is it always about romance? Sometimes? But most of my love poem is about the love within me, the love to life, the love to a reality that I cannot describe but I can only sense both subtly physically and non-physically.

my fondness to love is equivalent with my fondness to the breeze caressing my hair
Some of my friends will tell me “kamu gombal” in English it can mean “you are bullshitting” or “you are flirting”. I don’t mind people say that. I don’t have to explain to those not knowing my inner journey; to those who are in the same journey I don’t need to explain as they know what happens to and within me.
I will not change my love story in this life.
Am I afraid that a man that I love will think I am madly in love with someone else? No! He will know that my love poem is only for him. If he doesn’t know, it means he doesn’t vibe enough love with and for me.
What about if people think I am gaslighting? I also don’t mind although I might get hurt inside. I really don’t mind.
I love love poems and I dedicate the love poems to my Beloved, me, beloved, family and friends and the whole world. Someday if Life allows me to be remembered even after I die, I want to be remembered as a human being who knows love and compassion. If Life wants me to be forgotten after I die, I know I am forgotten in the name of love.
💕
(no edit is applied to this writing, please excuse my typos; i wrote this to wait during flight delay in Svarnabhum International Airport, Bangkok)
Bokor Kencana is a Javanese phrase formed from the words “bokor” and “kencana”. “Bokor” means jar commonly made from metal. “Kencana” or “kencono” means gold, golden. So, “bokor kencana” is golden jar.
While many associate “bokor” with a jar to contain flowers and water in Javanese ceremonies, it is also mentioned in one of Javanese traditional songs (Tembang Mocopat) called “Asmarandana” in which “bokor kencana” is used to describe golden jars carried by the deities whose task is to distribute blessings at the later time of night (midnight to time before dawn).

batik Bokor Kencana from Ibu Tien’s team
To me the “bokor kencana” in Asmarandana song is suitable to describe this Javanese batik pattern.
Javanese people (traditional ones) love to stay awake late at night until early morning because they believe those who give up most of their sleep portion will receive extraordinary blessings especially higher spitituality, wisdom and charisma. Is it true? No one knows if it is truly. A belief is a belief; let the believers prove it. Giving little to no judgement is better.

a full length of Bokor Kencana taken picture by Mbak Izzah
Additionally I read somewhere that this batik pattern is allegedly the one designated to all ranks of Javanese people without exception since its first composition; not only for royal but also for laypeople. Everyone can wear it.
It obviously underlines that this batik pattern is a symbol that everyone can reach higher spiritual/wisdom/charisma level regardless the position in the society as long as they are willing to give up some part of their comfort.
What a relief! At least in this particular area other than time life is fair!
😊
Asmaradhana
Aja turu sore kaki
Ana dewa nglanglang jagad
Nyangking bokor kencanane
Isine dunga tetulak
Sandang kalawan pangan
Yoiku bagianipun
Wong melek, sabar, narima
English translation
Don't sleep early
There are deities wander around the universe
Carrying their golden jars
In which protection prayers are contained,
Also clothing and food *)
Apportioned for
Those awake (sleeping less), patient, acceptant
*) clothing and food is a symbol of basic welfare in Javanese culture. First basic is clothing followed by food then house. Sandang (clothing) comes before food in traditional Javanese culture as sandang means dignity and self esteem. Traditional Javanese prefer suffering from hunger to suffering from shame. Traditional Javanese will not eat your free food if you give the food by showing arrogance or superiority, not because they want to be more than you, they just want basic respect as fellow human beings. This value has shifted in modern era where dignity is defined differently– people prefer eating for free although they have to give up their self esteem. This applies not only to real food but also to modern consummerism
Within the 10-year range, I was busy trying to heal my mental breakdown. I spent so much resource on that. Consulting to life coaches, religious people, tarot readers, psychologist, etc you name it. It was to validate that I was ok just to know that each of them said I was not ok. My denial that I was not ok became one of the root causes why it took so long to heal. No one from my family and friends knew; no one. They just knew I was into spirituality.
It started with a break-up from someone that I blindly loved in either end of 2009 or early 2010. I can’t remember the exact year because after the break-up I was insisting that the relationship had to proceed while the other side didn’t want to without giving specific reason so it was on and off dates between us.
Officially breaking up, I started a chaotic life that became more complicated with my decision to leave my previous job in 2011 to start focusing on spiritual classes, workshops and consultancies that was actually focusing on the damage. No one knew, what they knew was I was ok.
In late 2012 I met an ex colleague and agreed to join the company where she worked and continued until today.
The new job helped me well distract attention from the excruciating mental pain but I still did rigorous healing as the broken heart was still painfully rooted.
I cannot remember how many sessions with all the professionals and how much money spent for that, what’s remembered was that at the beginning I could not express myself up to a stage that I just spat the stories out when asked. It was not easy to talk about broken heart then accept it then let it go then open heart.
The flight of distress just touched down on runway in around 2018 when finally I could clearly detach from romantic memories–hell yeah that guy got married and had a baby several years ago and I still struggled with stupidity?
And that was the time I started intensely sensing pain in the head. So all these years I ignored the headache because I focused too much on my mental breakdown. When I flash back now and count how many packs of Paramex, Panadol, Neuralgin and other pain killer brands I got in other countries where I traveled in those years, I should have been a trusted ambassador for all of them esp Paramex that was shipped by friends from Jakarta or packed in the luggage when they visited me to Singapore. But truly I am a trusted ambassador of God who created me especially the kidneys that are still healthy after being tortured with processing so much chemical. 😊

my hero 😁 terima kasih ❣️
In Bali Usada I was taught that there are physical body (the body we can physically sense) and spiritual bodies (those we non-physically sense: etheric, chakra, mental). Whatever happens in one body will affect other bodies and that must have been what had happened to me in those 10 years: physical body tried to balance non-physical body that got seriously sick.
In my medical sessions I asked several doctors what might have caused my diseases while I had relatively healthy life (no drug, no alcohol, no free sex, good teamwork in office, etc); all of them said almost the same thing “might be some stress, might be because you are simply unlucky”. One of them suggested that I review if there was big stressor before I stopped my menses. And it was the break-up. Maybe! Just maybe!
I am not blaming anyone. I thank for having dealt with attachment issue before so I know what is the most to be alert in life. Big lesson is learnt, it’s been a move-on and no look-back.
I just won’t forget that…

this Banksy’s work of art is most relatable to me now
i let my heart fly in Your air, whoever cherishes it with respect, i will give my whole; otherwise, let it fly in Your air until the air within reunites with Your air
…. I can love others but I can never own them. They belong to life which is not theirs either, it is Life owning us.
…. Respect will override love in some situation in an adult mature’s relationship. If whom I love don’t respect me, I will claim dignity and let them go even if they are family members, except if they are my parents.
…. There shall be reciprocity in a relationship. One of the sides might have stronger emotion than the other(s) but they must have balanced effort to keep the connection going. No reciprocity, no relationship. It should be clearly stated, not only implied, not only indirectly quoting. Be a man, not a ghost.
…. No one can love one better than one’s self. Yet there shall not be too much attachment because someday this physical body will have to detach from the spiritual body– death will do all apart.
…. Life is just like that and I accept it just like that. Tears will still fall with an end or separation but the tears are not to cry for my selfish attachment; the tears are to mark that there is a value from something or someone leaving.
…. And other lessons lining like an army of ants❣️
Thank you again and again for giving me loving heart, (sometimes) excessive sweetness, fragility, silliness, naivety, stubbornness, intelligence and whatever I’ve grown with.
Thank you for this humble life, I never want to change anything. I leave it to you.
I was born an emotionally sweet and fragile, physically weak girl but there was time when I became a sour and bitter woman.
This is my first time telling this openly about what happened to me in a 10-year period.
One fine day in 2010 I realised that I didn’t get my menses for 3 months and so I went to doctor who referred me to an obgyn. Around that time too I started sufferring from headache.
The obgyn did some check including but not limited to a USG. The obgyn gave me pills and asked me to return some time later. Long story short the doctor said I experienced an early menopause.
I was shocked and frustrated as I always loved children and wanted to have my own. I decided to go for a second opinion to another obgyn expecting a more relieving fact. Unfortunately it was the same diagnose.
Early menopause itself ruined my life, what made me even more hopeless was the way the doctors communicated to me. They said it amusingly “You experience early menopause, so there is no chance to have babies. I am sad for you. Blahblahblah…. Dadada….”
Of course I knew and probably they wanted to make the distressful situation lighter. Ya, some people are just insensitive with or without purpose, but I wish such professionals know their work ethics.
Starting that day I closed down my dreams of having relationship romantically because I had no gut to be humiliated for being an early-menopause woman and never told anyone about the condition.
I focused on work and spirituality like nothing else matters.
I was a self secluded woman who refused to open my heart even to someone who seemed to devotedly love me. I would throw sour face to those approaching me. It was not because they didn’t deserve me; to the contrary I felt that I didn’t deserve them. I felt less woman than a woman should have been.
I moved to Singapore in Feb 2013 with more intense work that I’d really loved. I didn’t make friends except with three ladies outside work (my best friends until today), the rest was just work, work, work.
I only met a group of fellow auditors from my ex companies for dinner when I had biz trip to Jakarta. Or, I would go to Bali at long weekends. And, I visit my mother occasionally. With my packed biz trip schedule no one thought I was but so tired that I had no time to meet others.
No one knew until one day one closest friend noticed and said “Sister, you always have a full-fasting Ramadhan. How lucky you have been, like every year you fast for 30 days without period.”
Note: a muslim woman is prohibited to do fasting in Ramadhan during her menstruation
I decided to disclose to her. She didn’t comment any but I knew she was as brokenhearted as I was.
In 2018 I went to a noble silence retreat in Bali with the purpose of calming down my daily headache that hadn’t stopped since the time I stopped my menses that became unbearable. The meditation teacher Pak Merta Ada told me to do a thorough check to my head, he noticed a strong heavy energy there.
Getting back to Singapore, I consulted to my doctor and she did what was needed.
No breast and uterus problem. No diabetes. No cholesterol issue. No uric acid. Just a slight kidney issue that was cured with just 1-month medication. But….
…. My prolactin was 29,000 in me. It was Dec 2018.

Dr Lee referred me to an endocrinologist and the endocrinologist said “There is a growth in your brain and let’s find out what it is through MRI”. It was Jan 2019.
My intelligent kind doctor gave me medication and told me “Be patient. It may take some time. But when you get your menses back, it means the medicine works.”
“I can get my menses back?!!!” I still remember how nervous I was saying that.
“Yes. The menses stopped because your prolactin has been soaring high even beyond a pregnant or nursing woman. Once your prolactin returns to normal, you’ll be back normal. But it will take some time. Let’s just do our part lah. Don’t expect too much lah.” It was Feb 2019.
I became so excited that I would get my menses back.
Months later my daily headache became milder. As an illustration I took 2-4 pain killer pills per day before for years and now I took once a day sometimes none.
But my menses didn’t come back.
I made peace with myself and committed not to demand too much. Yet I felt some significant shift in my behavior. I felt an “old me” re-appeared– the sweet me.
I wanted to wear dress so I gave up all my jeans. I bought dresses, grew long hair, put more lipstick again. I gave up my sneakers, moccasin and backpack then changed them with ballet shoes, feminine types of bag and jewelry!
The sweetness that evaporated found her way home. It was mid of 2019.
Gosh! I feel it a bit draining to write this. Let me continue in my next blog if I have the drive.

i focused on work and took classes and workshops of spirituality only to find that life is about accepting what is and sharing willingly; i felt love around me but didn’t know how to express it, i was afraid that my sweetness would be misunderstood as flirtation so i just kept myself secluded in that 10 years
i didn’t mind others showed how fun their life was, while i kept it humble and low key — i just wanted to feel useful as a human being as actually deep down i felt less and useless as a woman
only very few people knew well who i was either because they were in the same spiritual journey or they reached the destination, still i didn’t want to be close to anyone incl those knowing my inner journey
(RC Gorman’s work of art)
This journey is a quiet seating with
You.
Whether you get stuck or flow or flood, I won't leave
You but
I leave it to
You
Wholeheartedly.

this is me surrendering to
You
take me in your love gently like a breeze in a warm day
My day smells like spring
Not because others give me hope
Not because others praise me high
Not because others lay red carpet for me--
No.
My day smells like spring
Because my senses work through
Your grace
Because my steps walk through
Your bliss
Because my breaths respire through
Your joy--
Yes.
this is not a popular composition but it sounds heaven to my hearing
life is light and smooth when we love wholeheartedly and playfully
i love you…. 💕
Witness, Beloved,
Beholds the flow, stuck and stream
Of a river. Quiet--

quietly sitting by a flowing river
What will the sun do?
Bring fresh life
Then maybe
Erase the life dry.
Is it nature of a destroyer?
No, Beloved.
It is a nature of paradox:
Sun refreshes, sun dulls.
Love rekindles, love terminates.

i saw this water lily blooming happily under the sun then the following week was swept by the scorching sun that gulped all water in its environment; i thought the sun destroyed the flower but actually pushing the cycle to proceed — paradoxical life
what a relief
💕
There's something living forever
Young and energetic
Within,
Resisting to mature up,
Insisting to cheer up,
Refusing to touch up,
Singing down the path
With one old song
About a flowing river
To the sea
Peacefully unstoppable.
My innocent evergreen--
tompi jazzy
calm jazzy
the classic
reminding me of high school when i was so crazy about singing keroncong 😁
my placenta was let flow on a clay jar accompanied by flowers and other Javanese ceremonial items to Bengawan Solo; just its name this river shakes my heart, reminding me to keep flowing
matur sembah nuwun, Bengawan Solo
matur sembah nuwun, Pak Gesang
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