Weekend

Weekend, Beloved:
Hopping corner to corner
Building joyous vibeโ€”

โ€”

What a busy weekend I have! One living room, one kitchen, one balcony, one bedroom, one bathroom, one storage room, one laundry corner โ€” all must be done on one day by one person.

Professionally it is called one on one! ๐Ÿคก

little mess under work desk ๐Ÿฅฐ whatโ€™s on is even merrier (donโ€™t like using the word โ€œmessierโ€) – working from home, sometimes I wear shoes as if working onsite; vibe is built at times ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿฝ

Dove Peace

Dove peace, Beloved,
Not doveโ€™s! Itโ€™s ours projecting
What we canโ€™t achieveโ€”

โ€”

hey, dove! do you spread peace through your songs, your breaths or your shits? ๐Ÿ˜‰

Fine Gold

Fine gold, Beloved, alchemistsโ€™ masterpiece through millions of failures

โ€”

By end of this life sheโ€™ll be at least a master of breathingโ€ฆ.

โ€ฆ. who will stop breathing at the peak of the mastery ๐Ÿ˜€

Unapproved alchemist! ๐Ÿ˜€

bought because of the 9999 ๐Ÿ˜

Not Lost

Iโ€™m lost, Beloved.
This maze takes me a hostage
I need to grow wings.

โ€”

You might feel lost yet donโ€™t get lazed. Open your eyes. This is not that maze maze. It is just an abandoned garden where trees are growing high touching the sky blocking the sun ray, grasses are growing wild covering the paths disguising directions. Look! There is something blinking from afar. Follow it, it might be a star. Or at least there is something moving you out of where you are.

Firstly open eyes! Your cat is getting impatient to go for adventure. Donโ€™t let it leave you. This cat is a precious traveling companion indeed.

WAKE UP!!!

๐Ÿ’

the cat is reading the mind of fellow traveler whose eyelids have imprisoned one from a pretty autumn – wake up! live this dream! ๐Ÿ’

after morning prayer

Your Name

Your name, Beloved:
Air blanketing fragrant space,
Soil firming the stanceโ€”

โ€”

Shakespeare said โ€œWhatโ€™s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.โ€

He isnโ€™t wrong. Yet he isnโ€™t always right.

I call a name when rain is sweetly pouring down, call another name when day is scorching too bright and hotโ€ฆ.

Why is it easier to call your name than my own? Is your name so strongly rooted that only it I can remember when it rains? Is it your name or is it you that stays with me?

Oh youโ€ฆ.

Oh your nameโ€ฆ.

Salaam.

is the flying butterfly not anymore the caterpillar greedily eating before sleeping? am I still the un-named baby born by my mother? ๐Ÿ’—

Blessing Clouds

Ten thousand of clouds
March to count the day to come
Of happy birthday!

โ€”

๐Ÿ’

rare lining clouds, I wonder what they are escorting with the wind โ˜๏ธ maybe a birthday gift? yay!

Why Space & Time

The depth of silence is
As deep
As ocean of possibilities.
Shaken, the ocean will splash
Drops of gifts.

Time once revealed
When the gifts will appear.
It once said
There is a moment in time.

Space once revealed
Where the gifts will arrive.
It once said
There is a point in space.

Spacetime once revealed
Why the gifts will engender.
It once said
There are reasons in life:
Unfortunately wrapped
In colours and shapes,
Often times disguising things:
A crow into a dove,
A wolf into a sheep,
A dumpsite into a garden,
A villainess into a heroine,
An evil witch into a kind queen,
Bent into straightโ€”
Misleading this travelerโ€™s direction.

Once it was said
There is
One
That she will find
Somewhere some time only if
She minds.

Dear, Light.
Only
You can reveal
True colours
True shapes
True hearts
True reasons.

Be deeply silent
Even in the crowd
Where ocean of possibilities
Is shaken
In this spacious time.

Hey!
The gift is relatively fair, Beloved.
Be ready.

โ€”

๐ŸŒŠ

when window nook is ready for daydreaming, no book, no paper, no gadget – just her welcoming gifts

Sharpening

What are you, my love?
Keris, scissors, needle, knife?
Whichever, be sharp.

โ€”

One young scholar once said โ€œLet the old self of yours die, live as a renewed self every day and you will fall in love with yourself not because you feel more beautiful or better but because you know you are more and more authentic.โ€

Thank you!

keris luk 9 – in Javanese wisdom number 9 is spiritually associated with 9 doors of senses and desires in human beingโ€™s body (two ears, two eyes, two nostrils, mouth, genitalia and rectum) that should be cared for whatever is fed in and discharged; in this wisdom those succeeding to responsibly manage the 9 will be granted good life physically, mentally and spiritually – ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ this keris luk 9 is usually favoured and owned as a sacred symbol by traditional Javanese who wants to focus on keeping oneโ€™s 9 doors of senses/desires responsibly managed

Sweet!

Peaceful, Beloved,
Sitting remembering you
In this sweet silenceโ€”

โ€”

Sometimes just donโ€™t get it why Japanese is like that but now accepting it as it is a culture with which a nation is built and shaped based on nature and history; like a Korean being a Korean, a Javanese being a Javanese, an English being an English, a Vietnamese being a Vietnamese, etc. As long as it doesnโ€™t disturb loyalty and integrity, itโ€™s ok. ๐Ÿฅฐ

Komoro, Japan: it was my first time seeing things were for sale but no seller was present, buyers just put the money in an open box for what was taken; in my country some people would probably take more than what they pay ๐Ÿค“
it looks not so pretty, but trust me these roses were super duper sweetly fragrant! missing Komoro but I know I will only go there next year – the most โ€œulu-uluโ€ place I visited in Japan ๐Ÿ˜

An Artist

Artist, Beloved,
Proportional and perfect?
No. Flowing riverโ€”

โ€”

When someone is so much a master of something that no labels or names of techniques are needed to pinpoint what s/heโ€™s doing to perfect completion, s/he be an artist.

When will this human being be the artist of her own life? At least the artist of her own breathingโ€ฆ. It takes not only talent for her to become an artist, maybe she needs courage to be wrongly perceived! Maybe she should be at least misunderstood that she seldom breathes right?

๐Ÿ˜

Salaam.

saw this artist drawing in Louvre Museum, at that time I didnโ€™t even think it was possible as I didnโ€™t even draw a flower nicely; it would be a shame if people saw my ugly drawing ๐Ÿ˜ next visit Iโ€™ll do it although I still donโ€™t draw flowers nicely๐Ÿ˜

Ruined Through History

Forbidden city not.
Imaginary power
Ruined through historyโ€”

โ€”

Whatโ€™s built on weak foundation will collapse. Lies, betrayal, tyranny, iniquity adorn the strong marble slabs and zhennan wood logs, remembered through time.

Life is undeniably karmic: what is sown is what is reaped.

So satisfying to see time reveals the truth!

Salaam.

part of the Forbidden City – Beijing gave me an extraordinary time of legal short course, first snow flake of my life + of that winter and debris of horrible history ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿผ

Self Discovery (ranting)

Point zero, my love
Here now, unshakeable ground
After the earthquakesโ€”

โ€”

Iโ€™ve been a full time thinker for the past one weekโ€ฆ. Thanks to the physical weakness brought by the virus! ๐Ÿฅฐ And here is the ranting abridged ๐Ÿ™ƒ

Life has always suggested me to walk through places where paradoxical situations exist and has made me weigh what life path should be chosen. Luckily life has always sent me angels (fallen angels included ๐Ÿ˜„) who remind me that life isnโ€™t only about exploiting whatโ€™s considered lucrative and physically pleasant; itโ€™s also about exploring whatโ€™s wising-up and spiritually enriching.

When I was young; books, courses, lectures, workshops were kind of โ€œsubscriptionโ€ I had to shape a level of mental toughness. Yet there was exhaustion and anti-climax for intensity every now and then (good deed included ๐Ÿ˜„). Losing faith, difficulty to trust human beings and skepticism to almost everything triggered me to deconstruct my own mindset.

Another โ€œpoint zeroโ€ came and brought a decision to take a course inspired by one friend named Eva (not one of my close friends but she is definitely one trusted human being). I promised to myself that this would be my LAST course to finally be unshakeable me.

I flew to Edinburgh and was driven from the airport to a place called Chisholme House by Mr Brix who became an excellent opening of my self re-discovery. He introduced me to the richness of self re-discovery even before the course started. That was when I felt so lucky to have read Ibn Arabi, Rumi and English literature although not extensively and to have learnt Javanese wisdom that is considered โ€œlocalโ€ by many of my friends (which I always disagree) as Mr Brixโ€™ languages were using all those keywords in the repertoire from my literature reading and cultural wisdom. Indeed Mr Brix was a โ€œgateโ€ welcoming me to a true friendship or fellowship bonded by humanity.

The course was simply daily schedules for us to an experiencing life or โ€œhuman beings who workโ€ โ€” physically, mentally, spiritually, socially in connection with their own self, other human beings and nature. Of course the classes was the superb! Collins, Hiroko and Aaron were excellent facilitators and to me they are role models of ordinary yet impressive human being! Collins was a loving husband and father cum the best administrator. Hiroko was a loving mother and wife cum an excellent painter! Aaron was an excellent chef cum wise philosopher! ๐Ÿ’

It was so normal a life that I felt so blessed. We woke up in the morning then took a bath or at least took ablution. We started the day with a group meditation โ€” everyone: the course participants, kitchen staffs, office staffs, garden staffs, etc except those who overslept. Then we had breakfast โ€” English breakfast! After that we started the class; the staffs started their duties. After that we had tea break then WORK! Work meant doing the assigned chores (garden, kitchen, house, laundry). After that class again then English lunch! Then lunch break for one hour. Class again. Mediation again. Work again. Afternoon tea. Personal time (we could go to the hill, forest, sleep, talk to staffs or participants, whatever). English dinner. Discussion time. Free time. Sleepโ€ฆ. Repeat.

Completing the โ€œself re-discoveryโ€, I found that life is like riding bicycle, balancing while moving. I lose, I win. I fall in love, I break heart. I get sick, I get cured. I trust, I distrust. I think, I feel. I work, I take a rest.

Balancing is about knowing the limit. I lose against someone/something but I gain wisdom. I fall in love at the same time I have to accept the unpredictable responses. I get sick then I will be cured. I trust with or without reasoning yet can also distrust because of the true or false reasoning. I think based on logic yet when logic doesnโ€™t count, only feeling of acceptance will neutralise the situation. And, when I am tired, I should take time-out. Just like that!

And I actually graduated with flying colours from many โ€œextraโ€ lessons: doing laundry, washing dishes, house keeping, potato harvesting, making bread, cooking English lunch, preparing dining table, raking dry leaves, going up and down the hills in the rain, walking in the moorland, listening to silence, listening to othersโ€™ opinions, identifying and recognising true intelligent people, trusting the right people at the right time in the right place, respecting stupid idiot (myself included ๐Ÿ˜‚), taking a bath in the cold morning, and more and more!

And yes, that was the last course in my life. Ordinary yet impressive, like what I always want myself to be to and for those having in touch with me.

I want to be back there not as a participant but as a guest in the English breakfast or lunch bringing a best friend who deserves an ordinary yet impressive life.

โ€ฆ. ๐Ÿ’•

Thanks for today! ๐Ÿ˜ด

Salaamโ€ฆ

โ€”

farmhouse where participants and volunteers slept during the โ€œSelf Discoveryโ€ in Chisholme Institute (there are male house, female house and couple wing) – missing the place and good friends there ๐Ÿ’
the main house where we meditate, contemplate, brainstorm, do household chores, enjoy meal and good company during the โ€œSelf Discoveryโ€
โ€˜The Monument to Manโ€: this place is one of reminders for me to stay on this track: a track where life abundance isnโ€™t always represented by or captured through social high class and luxury show off – โ€˜ve lived among those with abundance yet humbly bowing to the underprivileged – thank you for this decent life ๐ŸŽ€
hi, Edinburgh! Iโ€™m sure Iโ€™ll be back ๐Ÿฅฐ next time with someone I love with heart and soul ๐Ÿ˜˜

Torii

Torii, Beloved,
Opening from here to here
To be entered nowโ€”

โ€”

Iโ€™ll always make tomorrow morning inevitable in life like a torii that connects here now and another here now. These happy steps are walking from torii to torii, with another pair of steps inevitably aligning with me.

Salaam.

๐Ÿ’

torii from pp #31 of James Norburyโ€™s โ€œBig Panda and Tiny Dragonโ€

Negation Is (Now) Good

Negative, Beloved,
New paradigm that builds life;
Breathing is blessings.

โ€”

I thought that virus was reluctant to approach me until that funny doctor said bitterly to me last week โ€œThe Gov will SMS directly to you but these sudden symptoms give me a hint. Take care.โ€

After some inconsistent (+) and (-), being a lethargic patient (the virus pulled all muscles down) and a slow thinker (MZ sent me a confusing email of mine) of home quarantine, Iโ€™m back to my own self!

Thanks for toning this pride down. I was not that healthy.

Thanks for curing me. Iโ€™m dependent on You.

๐Ÿ’

hey, Mr Sun! I wanna go out everyday just like you if the next is (-) once more!

Be Patient

Shanghai, Beloved,
A pearl wrapped in gloomy smog,
A dream with no sleepโ€”

โ€”

Dear World, youโ€™ll get better. Or else, please hide your ugly faces from me for just a while.

Sending warm regards to MZ, RL and other Shanghainese ladies that I know in the modern Shanghai.

Happy weekend!

May all beings be happy.

๐Ÿ’

Shanghai, used to walk in its cold lanes in Decembers, listen to Chinese senior citizens laughing while dancing in the public dancing floor, walk back to hotel with tummy full of food and heart full of joy and head full of next yearโ€™s plans – now Shanghai is a hello at the end of the line

Nowhere (good memory)

Nowhere, Beloved,
To depart. Wait for next train.
Look around and pray.

โ€”

Checking my old photos, I saw an almost forgotten one. A station that was giving me the most alarming experience in that trip.

Back in April 2017 I was in a solo travel for 20 days in EU region when the train from Lyon left me no choice but changing train in Bourg-en-Bresse. It was rainy and windy, almost 5pm local time, some passengers got off with me but all of them went out of the station (perhaps to go home) and only I stayed to wait for the next train at 7:15pm.

For almost 45 minutes and no one was coming. A group of young men entered the other side of the railway. They sounded chatting and giggling. I tried to avoid looking at them. It was my first time feeling insecure in the trip.

I continued reading my book (now pretending) as I felt so uneasy with the noise across the lines.

โ€œHi! Lady!โ€ I looked around. No woman but me. Damn! They called me.

I didnโ€™t say anything, my eyes looked back to my book.

โ€œHi! Hi!โ€ Donโ€™t say anything, Rike. Donโ€™t look at them. My left hand slowly moved down to my Swiss knife in the inner pocket of the jacket.

Only prayer in heart and some strategies that were taught by my brothers on how to use the Swiss knife and simple kicks to defend myself from bad guys.

โ€œLady!โ€ They shouted at me more loudly after some time.

โ€œLady!โ€ The guys laughed out loud among their French words. I saw them waved their hands to me. They whistled at me. I wondered why no one was here but those guys. In my country there are always many people selling things around railway station. There are always tricycle riders moving around.

When those guys got even merrier and happier, I saw a shadow moved the tall doors behind the guys.

A tall black lady drew a trunk and went across line 1 to line 2 and to line 3 where I was almost ready to hurt any of the guys if they approached me.

The guys stopped their noise. The lady walked towards me.

I didnโ€™t feel better. This lady could stop the guysโ€™ laughters and whistles, she must have been able to do stronger thing than that including killing meโ€” I had to be alert!

โ€œHi! Going to Geneva?โ€ A soft voice greeted me.

โ€œHi! Ya! Are you?โ€

โ€œYes! The train will arrive soon.โ€

โ€œThanks God!โ€

โ€œNo, it is just the schedule.โ€

๐Ÿ˜

We eventually were sitting in the same cart. She was working in the UN headquarters and traveled back from personal leave. She said I was lucky to take this train, not later one that might have made me encounter with more men in the station unluckily often drunk.

โ€œThanks God!โ€œ

โ€œNo, you just need to choose the right timing.โ€

๐Ÿ˜

I almost forgot that I met this smart wise tough lady. Wherever you are, Madam, I wish you good luck! Thank you for saving me with your timeliness.

Salaam.

Bourg-en-Bresse station

Ode to A Secret Love


Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So


Yet dimensions have distanced us with invisible connection.


Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So


Only wish and pray I can send through speechless wireless across the elements.


Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So


Dream, dream, dream, dear love.
Life is but a dream.
I hope we visit each other
In each of our good dreams,
Before we wake up and together we stream.


Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So


It doesnโ€™t matter and it doesnโ€™t count
Even how I miss you most; like a tiny penny in a billionaireโ€™s account:
Missed and forgotten through space and time.

Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So


It rains again which I love the most
As the longing for you gets swept away
By the water falling and gliding on the window: sweetly cold.

Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So
โ€ฆ.

Yet this stubborn heart
Still sings in silence
Alone with clear sweet voice
Without doubt
That someday this feeling will fade away,
Leaving a good memory through time and space.

Listen, this is an ode
To a secret love:

Ohโ€ฆ.
How
I
Miss
You
So
โ€”

โ€”

daydreaming in a rainy day – RC Gormanโ€™s โ€œWoman with Poppiesโ€

Clay Jar

Broken clay jar, Love,
A love letter torn apart.
Message of a heartโ€”

โ€”

How broken you are, I will always love and respect you as a clay jar that records history and memory, in the hands of an ignorant they become waste and rubbish, in the hands of wise lessons and wisdom.

Iโ€™ll take your broken clay jar to kintsugi craftsmen in near future trip just in case they can also repair broken clay jar. ๐Ÿคญ

Otherwise, Iโ€™ll keep it in my mini cabinet of curiosity to be a reminder that a heart is so fragile or so broken and so worth handling with care.

Salamโ€ฆ. ๐Ÿ™๐Ÿผ

RC Gormanโ€™s

7777

7, Beloved,
Oceans, mountains and heavens
Represent this joy!

โ€”

Canโ€™t move on from number 7. Thanks so much! ๐Ÿ’

๐Ÿ’

Journey

Journey, Beloved,
Counting every blessed milestone;
Deletion of doubtsโ€”

โ€”

My personal definition of Australia: where beer is consumed more than water. It might be wrong to others but that was what I saw with these very eyes with no doubt. ๐Ÿ˜Ž

hello, Sydney. when will I see you again?

No Losing!

I will win
In any battle.
My flag is rising
As high as the farthest star
Reaching you
Bravely!

In me is a girl who dares!
Iโ€™m brave!

Donโ€™t try me!

I amโ€ฆ.

Brave!

โ€”

I wonโ€™t give up! You sell, I buy! ALL!

Kamboja

A gift, Beloved,
Pink star full of granted wish
What would you say, Self?
Thank you for this pretty gift.
Sheโ€™ll spread the fragrance and vibe.

โ€”

bunga kamboja (plumeria in English), fell on my cap when swimming – a fragrant gift

Life

This life, Beloved:
Mysteriously composed,
Beautifully doneโ€”

โ€”

This sight is defeated just by a sheet of paper. I canโ€™t see what You can. Iโ€™m surrendering this self toโ€ฆ

You. ๐Ÿ’

Salamโ€ฆ

RC Gormanโ€™s Reunion

Morning

Morning, Beloved,
Summariser of senses
Foundation of daysโ€”

โ€”

What morning can bring to a warm heart is always a bunch of sweet surprise.

Thank you!

โ€œanggrek merpatiโ€, the fragrant orchids that last only one night greeting me in one bright morning ๐Ÿ’

Tulips

Tulips, Beloved,
In joy they sway by the wind.
Daffodils do, too.

โ€”

Hi, tulips. Hi, daffodils. Miss you, miss youโ€ฆ. ๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜

bed of tulips blooming in Keukenhof – wanna be back soon ๐Ÿ˜