This is what I do. I write - about anything that cross my mind, about what concerns me, and about what excites me - and I speak up. I try to help a bit here and there. My way of chipping in to the society. while at the same time walking on my personal journey. Sometimes it works, other times it does not. But you know that's not important. What matters is we start doing something. Anything.
[Bahasa Indonesia] I lay awake in bed, a familiar comfy bed of mine. Yet not comfy enough to put myself to sleep. I am wide awake.
It is dark and chilly. The rain is pouring down hard outside. I can feel the breeze. Cold. The street starts to lose its capacity to contain the water. An overflow is unavoidable. It is a matter of time.
I can sense the mouses, white mouses, just outside my bedroom getting restless. They know the water is coming. Into their home. Then all hell breaks loose. The rainwater pours into the mouses' home. They run. Out of their home and into my room. They pass by me. Up my back and down again. There are so many of them. Too many. I can feel each mouse coming up my back and jumping off from my shoulders.
I shudder a bit, naturally. I can feel the tingling sense but somehow I am not panicking. Even when one is stuck somewhere in my upper back and I have to take it off. I understand.
Their house has been flooded. They are the ones who are panicking, not I am. They have the right to be. I understand. So I let them pass. I watch, I sense them pass.
I walk into the kitchen. The sun is already shining brightly. It looks like the hard rain has chased all the clouds away, temporarily. It is a large middle age kitchen. White wall. Burgundy tiling. Wooden doors.
Ah, the large wooden doors. Majestic. There are three of them. One going to the living area, one to the backyard, and another to the garage.
My sister walks in and asks why there are so many doors. Actually, she is asking why there are doors at all. “Take them all off,” she says. We do as we have been told. She is right. The sun now shines into the house. It feels much breezier, much fresher.
The whole family takes a stroll outside. Quite a large close-knitted group walking happily together. I have a sense of where we are going, so I am wondering why we take the long way round.
The sister is there again. I ask her why and she simply says, “Because the children want to.” As if that explains everything. It probably does. Because I ask no more questions. No more. I know it is going to be ok.
A rare desire to share. Until next time, if there is any.
PS: Floor, I have found the green book you gave me. We both know what that means.
I am still struggling to find the balance though. Perhaps it takes more time to readjust. Re-adjust, because I am adjusting yet once again.
[Bahasa Indonesia] Some time ago, a friend forwarded me this link, which tells a story about an animal pound in the city where animals are needlessly suffering and some are left to die. *sigh*
It is the hunger topic again. This time it is about animals. Yet another tear drop from my eyes. I promised that friend that I would put this up on my blogs, hoping somehow it will make a difference. Apology for the long delay.
It is a wonder how we often fall for animals, but not for human. We feel the pity when we see animals in pain, but choose to ignore humans who are in agony.
Or maybe it is just too painful for us to see, that we decide to look away and move on with our beautiful happy life, probably out of fear of getting hurt inside.
I think, as are children, animals are there to touch us deeper, with their innocence, honesty, and vulnerability.
When trust, unconditional love, and affection start to grow from within us, we can extend ourselves and learn to love others as well. To be affectionate and lend our hands to animals, nature and humankind alike.
Look who is learning to love now. And we thought we were the ones who are doing them a favor.
[Bahasa Indonesia] I have been postponing to write this entry for quite some time. I saw the news on TV quite a while ago about hunger in this country.
A mother and her two young sons died of hunger at home. Malnutrition everywhere in certain regions. Hunger in the middle of this very city that I live in, whose streets I pass by every single day. I really don't think I need to put a picture here.
My heart broke. My tears as well. To think that there is hunger in this tropical agricultural maritime country is beyond my common sense. To think that it happens on my doorstep without me--us?--doing anything much is beyond tolerance.
I sms-ed several friends. I received heart warming responses.
I know there is a vast, beyond-my-comprehension problem in the country that has led us to this situation, both the hunger and the ignorance. I understand very well that there should be a structural—almost political—change to improve the situation. I know.
Still, one response which the little ordinary me hold dearest to my heart was an invitation to do what we can, to be kind and attentive to those who are around us.
That office boy who serves us coffee everyday at work. That personal/taxi/bus/bajaj driver who takes us places at almost always “the speed of light”. That street hawker, that vegetable seller, that boy in the red-white stripe T shirt which we might not even notice.
Do we know whether they will have food on their table tonight? Do we know whether their kids have been well fed and have managed to stay in school? Do we even care?
I have been postponing to write this entry for quite some time. Because I did not know the solution to this problem. I still do not.
But perhaps that is my very problem. That is our problem. We feel so puzzled, insignificant and powerless that we do not do anything. At all. It is time to do something. Anything. Start giving. Please.
[Bahasa Indonesia] You know how you feel that you have traveled so far sometimes only to find out that you are still the old you? That you have not changed that much?
That is how I feel now. I have met some new friends this last month and rekindled with some old ones. How they have managed to take me back through time and rediscover the person that I have not been for such a long time.
Hey me, it has indeed been a long time. I did not realize how much I have missed me. I had a great time.
Lightness in my heart. Big grin on my face. And malfunction in the brain :p
Turns out that me is not so bad after all. Perhaps it is time to let that me shines for yet one more time, with a slight twist courtesy of time.
[Bahasa Indonesia] My sister has just returned from a parenting training. They discussed a lot of things. Among which was the fact that the trainer advised the participants to train their children to postpone their (meaning: the children's) desire.
When children ask for something, parents do not necessarily have to obey the wishes immediately. Delay them appropriately. Give a pause between the wishes and the fulfillment. This, the trainer said, would train the children to have pauses in life. To not act reactively (instinctively and emotionally) at that very instance. To think before they respond to any stimuli in life. Thus, to act wisely. Ouch.
Very interesting, I thought. What a great habit to teach in such a simple manner. I know it is best to think before we act. I know that it is good to postpone one’s desire. But I never link the two together, at least not when it comes to child-rearing activities.
I will let my two great teachers tell the rest of the story in this entry.
Jalal-ad-din Rumi said that, “The beginning of pride and hatred lies in worldly desire, and the strength of your desire is from habit. When an evil tendency becomes confirmed by habit, rage is triggered when anyone restrains you.”
Then he said, “If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?” Good one, teach. How should we do this? How do we restrain our desire? Along came my other teacher, Al Ghazali.
In his book Disciplining the Soul (which probably ranks among the most influential books in my life), Al-Ghazali quoted Yahya ibn Muadh al Razi, “Fight your soul with the sword of self-discipline. These are four: eating little, sleeping briefly, speaking only when necessary, and tolerating all the wrongs done to you by men. For eating little slays desire, sleeping briefly purifies your aspirations, speaking little saves you from afflictions, and tolerating wrongs will bring you to the goal—for the hardest thing for a man is to be mild when snubbed and to tolerate the wrongs which are done against him.” (Al Ghazali, Disciplining the Soul, p57)
You’re absolutely right. Tolerating wrongs is among the most challenging task. How can I hold myself from confronting the people who have snubbed or wronged me? When should I say something and when I should remain silent?
He (Al Ghazali) then said, “A man once enquired Umar ibn Abd Al-Azis, ‘When should I speak?’ And he replied, ‘Whenever you wish to remain silent.’ ‘And When should I be silent?’ the man asked, and Umar replied, ‘Whenever you wish to speak.’ (Al Ghazali, Disciplining the Soul, p59)
I nodded my head. Right. But then, I became puzzled with the statement. Looks like I am still learning.
Let’s just start from the beginning then. Like what my sister’s trainer said. Postpone the desire. Ours. Not the children's.
[Bahasa Indonesia] I was traveling out of town recently. I took the public transport to go just about anywhere. I did not mind at all. In fact, I enjoyed it.
Until on the last evening, I was about to meet a friend at a place where my usual mode of transport did not exist. So I took a taxi instead, due to lack of time and probably lack of energy to explore other options.
As I sat at the back seat of the taxi, I gazed through the taxi window, enjoying the beautiful houses, trees, cars, and lights that passed me by. I realized the luxury of taking a taxi, a comfy vehicle dedicated only to take you personally anywhere you want. Then I hit me. I have taken a humbler mode of mass transport throughout the journey, but I always, always, always have that other more-privileged option(s) had I wanted to.
As with the many cases in my life.
The likes of Linked-in and Facebook have allowed us to reconnect with long lost friends. One day I showed a friend (professional) titles of several old friends, high up in the management ladder.
I said, “Look at them. Look at me. What am I compared to them?” I paused and I continued, “I am a person who choose not to be.”
I could be like them if I wanted to. I know I have that option. An option which I did not take. Well, the option that I once took but no more.
The truth is I am blessed with all the options in the world—probably much more than many other people are. To which a dear friend wisely responded, “Then use it well. Make the best choice possible.”
So I reverted to You to make the choice for me, as I know nobody else would be able to make such grand choice(s). Not in the way You can.
[Bahasa Indonesia] I had lunch with a dear friend, a mentor last Friday. I had quite a number of things to do at work, but when she called, I could not possibly say no.
She now lives abroad and is visiting the town for a couple of days. We have not had a chat for a long time.
That very dear friend was the one who ‘guided’ me throughout my ups and downs (and downs) about two to four years ago. At that time, I had so many questions and uncertainties. Restless. Fatigue.
Yet she patiently guided me throughout my journey, whether it was the journey out of town or the journey within. Her first suggestion, I remember, was to “slow down everything. Do one thing at one time. Let your body and mind relax. If your process to surrender is through meditation and prayer, then do it.
Don’t force the process using your thought. Our mind is our obstacle. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart & lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight"
Release all your wants, needs, request, expectation, thoughts. Breathe slowly with only one thing in the consciousness, that we are His. Let Him work with us and accept anything and everything that He gives you every single day.
Look, feel, smell and touch everything around you. The floor, wall, house, road, tree, people, car, paper, words, language, music, sounds, flower. Anything, each day, each second.
Until one day you will understand, then you will burst to deep tears. Tears of happiness, joy and understanding.”
Those beautiful words marked the start of the journey of a lifetime that had been postponed for a long time, too long.
Yesterday, however, was a different chat. We talked and laughed about work and life. It was a dialog rather than a consultation. It was heart-warming still and pleasurable.
As we entered the car to return to our 'real life', I told her, “I have no more questions.” I have been asking a lot of questions all my life about life itself, but now I am left speechless without any question to ask.
There is no point of asking or questioning, when deep inside you already know that you know. Or at least, believe.
Having finished an email for a certain Uncle Bill, I had a conference chat with two of my dearest friends. (We were all online at 8am Saturday. Is it a wonder that we are friends? *sigh*). The chat started with “all ready with your own cup of tea”? :)
I was not. So I quickly went and got my warm cup. (Weirdos. Love you to bits). Then we went on chatting about everything and nothing.
In the midst of the chat, my brother—who is always a cook enthusiast—called for a real breakfast. He has prepared tomato omelette and two types of garlic bread for us all.
I took small breaks in between the chat to have some quick bites (and answered some text messages plus wrote this entry).
My mom, brother and cousin were at the dining table, with, needless to say, Miauw the cat—an integral part of the family.
It is now 11AM and I am still chatting with friends and fam.
What a great start for the weekend. *Big warm hugs*
Candles and I go a long long way back. Any close friends of mine would tell you "Oh Eva and her candles..[sigh]". Just to give you an idea of how fascinated I am toward this simple thing. I am not sure how my fascination to candles or candle-like atmosphere started. They are just simply amazing. The warmth that glows from their light is so enticing, almost seductive.
I can sit still for quite a while just to gaze at its light or to enjoy the color it has created in the surrounding area. I feel at peace. Warm. Smile.
So when a friend gave me a candle holder (along with several candles) as a present that 'suits me', it was a sure bet. Good instinct.
Hatur nuhun kangge hadiahna. Teu nginten. Tadi enjing parantos ngawitan nyarengan meditasi sareng padamelan abdi. Karaos haneuteun :)
I went to Starbucks the other day. The place was packed as usual. This young cheerful chubby male barista greeted me, with a huge smile and enthusiastic voice.
I caught a glimpse of the barista’s name tag. It read “Jesus”.
No wonder Starbucks is doing so well these days :p
[Bahasa Indonesia] Every communications person would know the 5W1H principle – the who what where when why and how of telling a story. And to some, there is another important question: so what? Why should the audience care about it?
So what was also the question that came to mind when I chatted with a friend a couple of nights ago. A kind man who likes to chat with (extra-ordinary) ordinary people. He likes to sit around the sidewalk to chat with the likes of street hawkers. I do too. It is amazing to hear their stories. They always manage to put me back in my place, to feel thankful but at the same time to feel that I am nothing compared to them.
At that night during my conversation with friend, the question just popped out of my mouth: so what? So you like to listen to their stories, so what? What are you going to do about the stories? How are you going to use these stories to help make change, to self and to others?
I think that is a question that should ask more often to myself. So I like spiritual discussions. So I like yoga. So I like talking to my stuff animal. So I like writing this blog. So what? How would that make me a better person? How would that benefit others around me? Thanks for the chat. And the reminder.
[Bahasa Indonesia] Today has been tiring, physically and emotionally. It has been a very long day as well. I woke up at five a.m. after only three hours of sleep. Then off to work. And work. And work. Until about six-seven in the evening. Then I went to a friend’s place (little old ambitious me) until about 12.30 a.m. Dead tired. That is, until I arrived at home at 1 a.m. Then I somehow felt completely refreshed. And started to turn on my computer to write this entry.
Earlier today I SMS-ed a friend because I was weighing what I should do tomorrow. Let’s see. I have three religious/spiritual discussion groups that I can choose from. Then I said, there is always an option to stay home. She said: home.
She was of course absolutely right. If I need to choose out of all four options, which is the most spiritually relaxing activity? It would be to stay at home.
It is amazing what home can do to you. Thank You.
As you said, until now, there is no other place on earth that we feel most comfortable in. Well, for us the fortunate ones. There are people who do not have a home. There are people who have big house(s) yet never feel at home. We are indeed the lucky ones. PS: one statement from the discussion in the friend's house earlier tonight: "Act of kindness is the universal truth." Beautiful.
how a person can come up with such brilliant words like "lambreta de la lonte," which, unfortunately, is impossible to translate to English. Still, four thumbs up! :)
I lay awake in bed, a familiar comfy bed of mine. Yet not comfy enough to put myself to sleep. I am wide awake. 
PS: Floor, I have found the green book you gave me. We both know what that means.
