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
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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
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.
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)
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.
Sep 2019 was a big milestone in my life. I joined a daily-life-experience-based workshop called “Self Discovery” in Hawick, Edinburgh. I still felt mild headache and minor discomfort everyday as I tried to cut off my pain killer intake but the different daily life totally poles apart from my tropical life gave me unusual strength to complete the workshop.
Chisholme House from the hill
I met other students and many others (facilitators, care takers and guests) who shared spiritual journey experience. I heard a lot of stories from them; life experiences that instead of breaking the people, the experiences rebuilt them to be human beings with holistic perspective about life. Some of them experienced much worse situation than most; imagine someone who was physically abused as a child then suffered from deadly disease and left by her spouse with weak reason; someone physically abused by her spouse while being a financial supporter, someone suffering from huge bankrupcy and left by family, losing marriage and all family members, etc….
My situation (both physical discomfort and silent mental breakdown) compared to theirs seemed to be a tennis ball compared to basketball or even this globe. Just because of getting no menses and the growth in the brain and I’d played so big a drama as if I’d lost my life…. Come on, human!
the hill from Chisholme House
They indirectly helped me wake up from long hibernation. I silently thanked them in daily prayers among daily household chores: cleaning the house and yard, ironing linens, cooking the meals, making the dining table, washing the dishes, harvesting potatos, walking up and down the hill almost everyday to pray in the monument (this one was not mandatory, my own fave), cleaning the toilets, morning meditation, daily discussion (intense yet enlightening), weekly dzikr with the rest of participants (students, facilitators, care takers, guests), and so on and so forth. Life is about doing things even when it is simply making a flower arrangement for the dining table.
Maddy in the dining room where we all exchanged joy among other activities — dear God, i’d like to be there at least once again
Going back home, I was still the same person just with clearer perspective about life and with fondness to do household chores (this was truly good foundation to face the pandemic). Life is about experiencing what is by firmly embracing genuine intension, about accepting what is but never giving up good hopes and dreams, about sharing what’s granted without letting myself become broke, about becoming a human being.
I went home with a liberated mind. I promised to love myself fully by embracing that whether I had my menses or not, I was still a woman. I pledged in silence that I would take care of my body, mind and spirit better. The soul? Soul is soul, pure and healthy but probably blurr in dim — once the body, mind and spirit get healthy and balanced, the soul gets brighter and clearer.
Oct 18, 2019 was an important day: 1st day of giving up my hijab, the fashion I’d worn since I was 17– a small move that hugely changed details of my life. I gave it up with genuine intention and sufficient knowledge after my final contemplation during my workshop in the UK. I wanted to give up something that made me think that I was a fake because of doing it halfheartedly. I made it clear that although I didn’t wear hijab, I still could be a good human being.
I gained confidence and compliment from those respecting my decision but I also lost trust and connection from those considering me lost in the dark. I got one most hitting statement from someone saying “No worry, you are lost, Allah will guide you back.” But I also received compliments about clarity, bravery and honesty. So be it, both don’t bother me.
😊❣️
Walking home that day I felt very uncomfortable with my body, something I never had before. But I just accepted whatever it was. Reaching home, I found out of getting my menses — the first after 10 years!
So much hustle as I was not ready with whatever was needed for this supposed-to-be-regular-but-gone-for-10-years thing.
I got my menses! Until today some of friends still mocked me “You remember when you got your 1st menses at 44? Like a euphoric! While others probably would say damn I’ve got menses again so annoying!”
Until today I will say thank you everytime the menstruation comes although I have to feel 1 day or two of discomfort. It is a blessing that I missed before, it is a blessing that I thank every month and forever.
The endocrinologist decreased the medication dosage. He just said that there would be the next MRI to check the size of the growth. I am still taking the medicine but only 1.5 dosage per week, much lesser than before. My prolactin is still within 400-500, checked every 3 months with other kinds of blood test included to see my overall condition. Alhamdulillah….
I don’t deny the excitement and gratefulness of getting my menses back. This proof that the previous diagnose was wrong has rejoiced me. However, I don’t want to glorify it; someday I will get menopause (once again) sooner or later 😁.
with all that i’ve gone through, how can i deny this?
The most important thing is that my brain tumor has shrunk significantly. No daily headache. No daily discomfort. No uncertain anxiety. No vague expectation anymore.
I accept me. I accept my life.
2019 is a year when this human being stood up again in humble stance on life and clear sight about hers. The 10-year bitterness has turned to be a sweet memory.
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
You fly with the cotton candy Around me in the sky. You dive with the schools of fish Next to me in the water. You grow with the root Beside me in the earth. You are everything around me.
You run with me when I walk. You swim with me when I play in the water. You soar with me when I fly. You are with me everytime.
You breathe with me. You throb with me. You vibe with me. You are everywhere with me.
Everyone might question me "How dare you!" Every one will do to me.
I Know you But don't know you.
Only time will tell If your signs are true Or false.
Only time will tell When we shake our hands And say hi.
Only time will tell If I know you Or know not.
maybe it is just me living in my dream, and you are the unreached reality
Love bond, Beloved By blood or vow is all gift Embraced and nurtured.
me with my aunt on Oct 27
i paid a homage to my father’s sister in law, my beloved aunt
we call her Budhe Didi, a 90-year-old Javanese woman who is now the oldest elder from my father’s family line; my mother is the other one (80 years old)
she was very happy seeing me and said “send my best regard to your mother, please bring her here to me, i miss her so much, please finish your home soon so i can meet her in your house warming…. bla bla bla”
i could only say “please bless me”
she also reminded me to keep the bond among cousins, nieces and nephews even when all elders (someday) rest in peace
aja sampek kepaten obor (never lose our family bond); it is not an easy job in modern era but i think it is the right way
rike jokanan 
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