[Bahasa Indonesia]
This is it. I am off for seven-eight months of study in the Beshara School, Scotland, UK. I shall see you again in April or May 2009, God willing. Be good. Have fun. Take care.
-eva
pic: Taken somewhere on Orchard Road, Singapore.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
…
The moon is a perfect meeting place, you see. For the moon does not shine its own light. It reflects the light it receives (mainly) from the sun--just like two friends reflecting one another. It shines a tender light that is never blinding, but still gives enough warmth to the heart and brings smile to the face.
So, I guess I shall see you tonight at the evening sky where the moon is--full or not. White, orange, grey, or pink. For once, I don't really care about the details.
Even if the moon is not in sight, we still know it is there. We still know where to meet. We are still meeting.
Perhaps the moon is not in sight because it is busy shining on other parts of the world. That is okay. The moonshine is rich enough for many to share. The beauty it shines upon us, though, is exclusively for us. I know. You know, too.
Perhaps the moon is not in sight because its route is not as predictable as the sun is. I supposed it is part of the beauty of the moon. It keeps us guessing, intrigued, and, occasionally, longing. (I wonder whether the sun is the only thing it is reflecting.)
Or perhaps the moon is not in sight due to the clouds. I don’t mind that either. Because clouds bring me the promises of rain. Rain too reminds me of you.
And the place where I am going–it rains all the time.
---
My challenge is not to remind myself to look up at the evening sky. My challenge is to not look up all the time. I know I must set my sight to what is in front of me and not let my mind wonder too often, even to you.
Besides, deep down, I know you are going to be alright. You are that strong and blessed. That is all I need to know. That is all that matters.
My dear friend. My dear spiritual mentor on how to love, to feel (again), to express (again), and—now—to let go. I know I must let you be, let you walk your own journey.
And my place is about two steps behind you, or rather, around you. At the back of the room, sipping warm black coffee, eating cookies, chatting my usual non-sense chat with whomever is next to me. Smiling proud at you, because of you.
While you are taking the center stage, growing sweet again, and fragrant and wild and fresh, and thankful for any small event.
It is time for us to continue the journey. Together or by ourselves. Or sometimes together and sometimes by ourselves. Yes, perhaps that is it. Thank you for being a travel companion for me and for being part of the blessings in this life.
The mind knows. The heart needs to catch up.
The first picture was taken in Ubud (Bali), the second from here and the third at the Anomali Coffee (Senopati, Jakarta).
[Bahasa Indonesia]
I look around and wonder whether I have done enough for them.
I look inside and ponder whether I have done enough for myself.
Happy Id Mubarak 1429H
Have a safe return to your true self.
PS: I know. It is still a bit early, but I will leave the day after tomorrow (Wednesday morning) for the UK. I am taking a six month course in the Beshara School, Scotland, UK. During which, I will have little access to the Internet and mobile technology.
Take good care, darlings. Have fun living!
[Bahasa Indonesia]
Al Ghazali said that sometimes God (or nature or whatever supreme power you believe in) would take away things that we treasure so much in our heart to provide us with life lessons.
For us to learn to live without things we hold so dear to us and survive. For us to appreciate the treasure and use it (more) wisely.
Only when we have learned our lessons, He will return them to us.
I have had a lot of things taken away from me throughout my life. Some I still have not gotten back. Some I am reluctant or even afraid to repossess. Denial and avoidance. Guess I am still learning.
post script: But I tell you one thing though. Despite it all, I am still fine and I still consider myself one of the luckiest—the most blessed—beings ever alive. As you are, too. More than you realize. Thank you for being part of the blessings.
Don't ever think differently.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
I was in a group discussion one day, when a participant was telling us her story--how she wanted to help a person that came to her one day but could not because she had had prior engagement. She kept thinking how the woman must have felt and whether she had made the “right” decision by ignoring the plead.
Another was telling us how he has forgiven the people who have hurt him. How we have to be patient. How we need to be forgiving and let go. To accept. To be humble.
I thought to myself, isn’t amazing how we often focus on improving ourselves by reviewing how we behave toward others or how others view us? Sometimes we do not realize that the so-called problem is actually between us and ourselves, not us with them, and certainly not them with themselves.
A book I recently read gave me a different (and interesting) perspective. It advises us (or rather, me) to start with ourselves. Rather than focusing on how we should behave, it invites us to pay attention to the process within.
It is time to be (more) honest to ourselves, about ourselves. How do we really feel? To understand ourselves. To accept that we still feel the anger, disgust, annoyance, happiness and love. All sorts. To be honest with ourselves.
We have spent too much time denying what we feel—especially when the feelings are negative. Too often we just sweep our feelings under the rug—merely shifting the conscious to subconscious, adding to the already stacked up emotional baggage that we have. Not really deal with it.
We start from acknowledging how we feel and pay attention to it. Then pay attention to how the feeling evolves.
The books goes further by saying “breathe in the negative feelings, breathe out the positive ones.” I think it is a brave move.
Only after that process of looking within, we can step up our efforts to reach out to other people. Only by understanding our feelings, we can begin to understand how others may feel. Only by accepting and loving ourselves, we can begin to accept and love other people.
Make sense to me. Don’t you think?
An extra note. Are we really humble when we explicitly claim we are humble? Are we really patient when we claim we are patient? Do we really accept when we say we accept? Or are we just kidding ourselves? Another noun crept up my mind as I wrote this: Arrogance. Who are we kidding, honestly.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
I love people (and especially friends) with dreams and aspirations. I love those who follow their dreams even more. I truly believe that consistently recurring inner calling really says something. It is not a mere random meaningless thing. It is anything but.
So I welcome the recent trend of Lentera Jiwa (liberal translation: soul lantern).
Granted, it is a(-nother) great marketing move by Yoris and Morin to promote Nugie’s new album.
Still, it is a great reminder for us all that we can (and should) live life to the fullest. To life up to our full potentials and not let what God has given us gone to waste.
Recto Verso – the newest album from Dee is also an evident showcase of one’s soul lantern. But I am not talking about Dee here. I think she needs no introduction (Love and light, D).
Instead, I want to talk about another friend who helped her distribute the album.That friend works in the IT business. He too has passion in music, or anything Indie basically.
What is interesting here is that he, that friend, has a passion in music for as long as I can remember (which is a long time, since we have known each other for more than 15 years).
He may not be able to devote his time to playing any musical instrument himself, but he gives music what he has—his passion, his organizational and management skills, and his brilliant logic. He contributes to his passion the best way he knows how. He is probably the only one who can fill that spot, making his contribution unique to the whole equation.
The thought brings me back to 2002, where I felt rather helpless looking at all those Jakarta flood victims. I followed a doctor friend of mine around. She was helping the victims. Little old me, what can I do? I helped my friend organize and package the simple medicine for the victims.
Now—looking at my friend’s indie music stories—I realize that I need not to be a doctor to help in health care. By profession, I am a communications consultant. So that is what I do—and what I have been doing to some extent.
I have not found a specific cause—or organization—that I would like to devote myself to. Rather, I would prefer to act as consultants to my friends’ organizations—conducting communications trainings for them, helping them craft up their newsletters, writing their stories, touching up their funding proposals, etc.
Perhaps that is my unique place or function in this whole ensemble. That and probably something else. We shall see.
I will tell you two things though. Firstly, honestly, listen to yourself, and seek that calling. Secondly, take your time. It's a process. You need not jump to it right here right now. Perhaps what you are doing now is a preparation towards that step you are about to take. Good preparation is half the battle won. Take your time, but not too much ;)
I will reiterate what Lentera Jiwa has written in its website:
"Life is full of choice, but often the best choice is to follow the soul lantern within us. The light that guides us to our purpose in life. Our passion in life. What about your soul lantern?"
[Bahasa Indonesia]
My school has not started yet. I have not even started my (physical) travel yet. But the pre-term lessons have begun.
A healing mentor Reza Gunawan told me a while ago sometimes our body and soul know the travel that we are about to embark on and they begin the process even before we start the physical journey.
I can feel that the process have begun. Within. A sensation (or two, or three) so familiar and familiarly intense. They are resurfacing. This time, I (try to) welcome them with all my heart. Try would be the operative word here, as it can be quite challenging.
My meditation teacher Pak Merta Ade of Bali Usada once said, “When you are ready, try to stay with the sensation longer.” (translation: don't run away. Deal with it.) He was talking about the bodily sensation felt during meditation. I was hearing a lot more than that. I heard sadness, anger, traumas, and what have you. All those unresolved emotions.
The book I received from a friend urged me to start where I am now. To learn to deal with my current and real (physical and emotional) conditions; to learn from them. Again, all those unresolved emotions.
Both occurrences told me to “slow down, stop moving, sit, and deal with yourself”. So I sat. In silence. With nobody else but myself. And You. It was not easy. Somehow the old feelings and memories have become more and more vivid. I became restless. I wondered whether I was ready to plunge into this once again.
I would not be me if I had not tried to be 'creative'.
Maybe if I keep myself busy, I would not be too tied up with this practice. I took up some projects even though my departure date is approaching fast. I guess I forgot who I am up against. Both projects were not moving that fast. I still have lots of free time to “be tied up with this practice.”
Well, maybe there is a way to lighten this load a bit. Sharing would help, right? It would not hurt to tell a friend or two, right? Wrong.
Some things really should be left unspoken and unshared. There was always something. Internet got disconnected. One too many people around. Mismatched schedule. Not enough time. You see, it is not that I don't want to, I cannot. I must not.
So again, I can only sit in silence. With myself and I. And You.
I know the time has arrived. I know it is a personal journey that I have to walk on my own. With nobody else but You. Believe. I do.
You may not understand. It is ok. Sometimes I don’t either.
The mind knows. The heart still needs to catch up.
Now -
The mist across the window hides the lines
But nothing hides the color of the lights that shine
Electricity so fine
Look and dry your eyes
We -
So tired of all the darkness in our lives
With no more angry words to say
Can come alive
Get into a car and drive
To the other side
Me babe - stepping out
Into the night
Into the light
You babe - stepping out
Into the night
Into the light
We -
Are young but getting old before our time
We’ll leave the TV and the radio behind
Don’t you wonder what we'll find
Stepping out tonight
You -
Can dress in pink and blue just like a child
And in a yellow taxi turn to me and smile
We’ll be there in just a while
If you follow me
Me babe - stepping out
Into the night
Into the light
You babe - stepping out
Into the night
Into the light
Nice quote, Tom. Perfect for the night.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
It is September. On the 17th, I'll be off to Scotland for a six-month study in Beshara.
These upcoming months of my life was started by one of those unexpected turns in my life. I was introduced to the Beshara group in Jakarta last year.
I attended a weekend course and I must admit I did not connect instantly. But something has pulled me to the group again and again. I obeyed, partly out of curiosity.
Earlier this year, I attended another weekend course. Toward the end of the course, I stroke up a casual conversation with one of the facilitators. I asked whether it was possible for me to join the course on scholarship. He said, “Just email the school director.” The statement was that simple.
The process was amazingly just as simple. I ‘ignored’ that remarks for a week, then something prompted me, and I thought, well, why not. I have nothing to lose.
I emailed the director. The director responded. Yes. Yes??!?!? I text-ed a couple of friends, forwarded the email, and asked whether I have understood the email correctly. I was. Wow.
Some friends asked (over and over again) how come I got the scholarship, on what ground. The only answer I could give them was: “Perhaps, all you have to do is ask.” A succumbing answer given due to lack of other logical explanation. No need for one.
And the rest is history. I received the acceptance email in March this year. Then life happened. Now we are in September. Two weeks from now, I shall be in Scotland, God willing.
Scotland. The region has been very close to my heart. My friends and family know how much I have fallen in love with the place.
So when they heard I was going to Scotland, there were only two comments made: “It is meant to be” and “Oh, you are going home.”
Yes, I feel like I am going home. I am going home. I am going, from one home to another. It is meant to be. I am merely walking it.
If you go there--and you go there with me, I am sure you can see what I see, and feel what I feel, then you might understand why.
---
I woke up this morning to a text by a dear friend: “May all kind efforts lead the soul to true enlightenment, even if it is not the easiest road.”
I know. You know. No other does. Deep breath.
pics taken from Beshara, Stirling Uni, and Gettyimages.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
Pre-Ramadhan family picture. Aug 31st 2008.
Is it a wonder that I love them so much?
[Bahasa Indonesia]
The stone-built medieval town is at a complete still
All its inhabitants have gone to sleep
All except one. The teenage Annette
The town street says nothing
Yet to this girl, it is bearing its tired soul
The teenage Annette is wrapped in her winter coat
She is staring at the empty street
Her chest congested, her breathing short, her eyes watery
Yet she stands there, unmoved, frozen in time and space
Ignorant to the chilling Fahrenheit that is tightly squeezing her
Because there is something even more chilling
About this beloved town of hers
The sadness, the frustration, and the heartbreaking poverty
Annette has made up her mind
She knows what to do
And is determined to instigate it
Feeling resolved, the girl returns inside
To her warm homey modest hut
To her smart blue collar father
To her humble loving mother
And her innocent little brother
Young matured Annette knows
The fertile land surrounding her town is the key
To bring her people out of this stricken poverty
Agriculture-based economy. That is the answer
That is what she is focusing on
A total dedication to her ideals and people
Annette’s performance surpasses all women of her time
Her thoughts get appreciated
But Annette is satisfied much too soon
The ovation and gratitude have blinded her
Arrogance has smoothly taken over her soul
And she forgets how far she can go
She overlooks the many miles she has yet to travel
The road detours even further
The adult Annette meets her man
They fall in love
They live happily throughout the rest of their life
Annette disregards what she is set to do
She clings to the happiness she is so afraid to lose
She does not know that she could have had it all
To have the cake and eat it too
And much more. The Caretaker is that generous
On her dying bed, the middle aged Annette looks around
She feels happy. She feels love
Annette has what she wants
Wealth. Respect. Family
And (her limiting somewhat misled understanding of) love
But during her last minutes, she remembers something
Her job is still not done
She has abandoned what she had come here for
Now it is all coming back to her
During the final moments of her life
There are still some clinging hopes left though
The journey is not over yet
There will be a next time
And that time is now
When all things fall into places
When all things can and will go hand in hand
Love. And this time, she hopes it is the Divine Love.
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate; our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, talented and gorgeous? Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel small around you.
We are all born to manifest the glory that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
Nelson Mandela 1994
IRD, an international non-profit organization in Indonesia, seeks exceptional individuals for the following positions:
Information/Media Officer or Consultant (Jakarta) –
* Develop and update program descriptions, accomplishments and highlights for program outreach, including brochures and website.
* Assemble and end draft program quarterly reports.
* Develop and maintain internal networks to identify and document success stories.
* Generate monthly highlights and quarterly program newsletters.
* Develop and maintain digital photo library.
The ideal candidate will have desktop publishing skills, including layout and graphics, to produce polished in-house publications, including quarterly program newsletters for public dissemination.
This position requires fluent English and excellent writing skills. Indonesian languages skills are a plus but are not absolutely required.
Applicants should submit CV highlighting relevant skills and accomplishments, and one or more sample publications (PDF format preferred; try to avoid attachments larger than 2MB).
CV should list any weblinks to additional publications, or websites which contain content you have authored. We prefer to fill this position full-time, but may also be willing to consider candidates who prefer only part-time employment.
If you think you are up to the challenge, write to us email or snail mail, and include a cover letter, your CV, 3 references, and your salary history/expectations to:
Application for Information Officer
IRD/SERASI
Suite 904, 9th Floor
Intiland Building
Jl. Jenderal Sudirman No 32
Jakarta 10220
Email: opportunity@ird.or.id
No phone calls please. Only short-listed candidates will be contacted.
IRD IS AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EMPLOYER
When I call your name
I'm gonna scream out loud
I'll say...
Here I am standing in the crowd
You'll say "Come to me
With your open mind
You never know
What you still might find"
But you keep me here
Like a canceled flight
An empty train
Running through the night
An orphan child
A broken shoe
And I'm still down here
Looking out for you
Are you there for me?
'Cause I'm here for you
Taken from the song Loneliness, by Annie Lennox. Coupled with Irene Cara's Own My Own, U2's The First Time, and Annie Lennox's The Hurting Time, they were an intense combination.
Reminiscing the past. Wondering whether I am completely over it.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
This is it. The end of my current stretch of travel. Tomorrow, the work life (as a professional in the communications field) will resume. It has been a great three week journey.
When I told a friend several weeks ago about my traveling schedule—yoga, meditation, healing training, meeting up with people, four—or more—places in three countries within a stretch of three weeks, she commented, “what a fast life.”
I had never thought about that until she said it. She has made a valid point. If you look at the schedule, my life seems to be moving very fast from one point to another.
Yet interestingly, at each point, the life seemed to slow down up to the degree where it hardly even moved. The life was slow at each point. It took its time going through and enjoying the process.
Now life does not seem as if it is moving that fast at all. Not anymore.
The life moves from one point to another lightly, but I know it takes its time as it moves--immersing in the experience given by each node of adventure, enjoying the process, and embracing the learnings presented by nature.
Detaching, enjoying, and embracing seem to be the keywords of this travel episode.
I have my teachers and friends to thank. And God. And my beloved family. And--in a peculiar way—I have myself to thank for allowing the process to happen.
As I wrote this end note, a passage from the book given by a dear fellow traveler resonated in my head: “Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves.”
PS: miss you, too. I really do.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
A man was nailing the wall with a hammer. His left hand was holding the nail while the right holds the hammer. Pound, pound, pound.
“Ouch!” suddenly the man shouted. He has hit his left hand with the hammer. Or if you like, his right hand (that is holding the hammer) has hit his left hand (that is holding the nail).
Do you know what have happened next?
The right hand threw away the hammer to hold the left hand. The left hand was hurting and focusing on the pain. Both worked together to best ease the pain.
What do you think would have happened had the incident been between two humans? A hit B. A could have run away. A could have acted as if nothing had happened. Or A could have scolded B for being careless—applying the 'scold first before being scolded' principle.
B, on the other hand, might have looked at A with anger and hatred. B would have blamed A for what had just happened. B would have held grudges and at the back of the mind keep this memory in tact and secretly plan for a revenge some day.
But not the hands. The right hand did not run away. It could not. Both hands were united in one body. The right hand straightforwardly forgot what it was doing to tend for the left hand. The left hand did not hold any grudges and did not even think of having a revenge at the right hand.
Things happen. Both hands work together to make the best out of it. They feel for each other. They are connected with each other. They know that, at the end of the day, they are one and interconnected. Nobody blames anybody else. They just work together.
The magnificent human body is a microcosmic view of how the universe inter-relates and how humans should treat one another. Very few pay attention, though.
-a story by Thich Nhat Hanh told during those conversations with Nat in Bangkok.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
I have just realized that Bangkok was the only city in my current travel stretch where I did not have any specific agenda apart from meeting with a friend. There was no retreat, no training, no nothing. It is nice to have such occasional lack of agenda.
Well, there was one agenda: to have a chat with my friend Nat. (oh and a Thai massage session.) I met Nat while I was in Spain on a chance occurrence. We had coffee and started to chat. The short chat grew into friendship.
This three-day visit to Bangkok was actually the second time I met her in person. I am not sure what I can write here. Any idea, Nat? I do not know any other persons with whom I can have discussion in the same way we have ours.
As my taxi drove for the airport early that morning, I felt sad. I have been to several places lately, but only Bangkok has managed to make me feel this sentimental.
It was as if I had left the city too soon. Bangkok seemed not to had had the chance to tell me its stories. Perhaps there were words that have not been said, scenes that have not been seen, and experiences that have not been shared.
On board the aircraft, I opened the first page of the book Nat has given me. The book titled "Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living written" by a female monk Pema Chödrön. What a powerful book. I shivered when I opened the first page and felt my eyes getting warmer as I read the preface.
Page ix, paragraph two:
“In our era, when so many people are seeking help to relate to their own feelings of woundedness and at the same time wanting to help relieve the suffering they see around them, the ancient teaches presented here are especially encouraging and to the point. When we find that we are closing down to ourselves and to others, here is instruction on how to open. When we find that we are holding back, here is instruction on how to give. That which is unwanted and rejected in ourselves and in others can be seen and felt with honesty and compassion. This is teaching on how to be there for others without withdrawing.”
I was writing this entry but I did not know at first what pictures I can put here as illustration. Perhaps I should have taken pictures of all the places we went and the things that we ate, Nat. But pictures seemed unimportant and almost irrelevant compared with the things that we chatted and shared. Thank you for being such a gift.
You were right. Our chance meeting was not by chance at all. It was not a meeting between two strangers. It was a meeting of two long lost friends.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
Singapore always feels ‘business’ to me. I do not think I have ever come here as tourist. It was always for something specific: taking my mom to hospital, visiting friends, meeting, attending conferences, or, this time, participating in a training course.
It was a four day training on Craniosacral Therapy (CST). Cranio what? It is a light touch healing technique developed by John Upledger. Simply put, the touch would relaxes stressed muscles and, conversely, activates sleeping muscles.
I love CST for several reasons. It helps people (I am a witness to that. I have been treated.) It uses soft touch, which does not hurt at all (five grams of touch are all it takes.) It has strong scientific medical explanation to back up the technique (good for my overtly logical and painstakingly critical left brain.)
The touch is a way to connect to the person’s body (and mind). Human body has self-healing mechanism. The touch simply says “we’re listening” and waits until the body is opening up to tell its stories.
[Remind me to write more about CST later, For now, kindly refer to the official website of the Upledger Institute for details.]
The training was great. The instructor Michael, the four teaching assistants (TA) and Greenpartners as the organizer (hey Kheng!) were simply superb.
Two of the TAs were my therapists—Martyn and Heather. I did not know they were supposed to be there. So Heather came up to me from behind, covered my eyes from behind and said, “Guess who I am. You should be able to tell by the touch of my hand.” ☺ A typical CST joke!
I had a great time. Honestly, I had a great time during the training. On my first day, I texted a friend only to say “I like my life.” From the bottom of my heart. I don’t think I have ever thought that, at least not for a long time. My life has been nothing but blessings, but that day I honestly felt I was blessed.
When I told several friends about my taking this course, they asked, “What are you going to do with it once you have taken the course?” Good question.
A question that reminded me about a passage in Paulo Coelho’s Pilgrimage. The main character was eager to find the sword. So eager that he did not realize that before finding the sword, he had to answer the most important question: “What will you do when you find the sword?”
I am still uncertain about my answer. Perhaps it is a step toward a childhood dream to become a doctor. I used to want to be a doctor so I can spend half of my time making money and the other half helping people.
Or perhaps it is a make-up time. I remembered the helplessness I felt when I was volunteering to help victims of the Jakarta’s major flood. So many suffering, so little I could do.
I don’t know. But I know when it is time, I will know what to do with it.
For the time being, I would like to thank the CST team (and new friends) for the great experience. Thanks to the city of Singapore that has always been kind (and professional and efficient!) to me.
A special thanks to Yolli, Hany, and Andien for letting me stay at their places. Nila and Mike for the great veggie meal. A warm hug to all whom I met during my visit to Singapore this time round.
[Bahasa Indonesia]
Throughout the 11 days of the TB2 meditation, I spent 10 of them observing the noble silence. Noble silence means “silence of body, speech, and mind. Any form of communication with fellow student, whether by gestures, sign language, written notes, etc., is prohibited.
Participants may, however, speak with the teacher whenever necessary and they may approach the management with any problems related to food, accommodation, health, etc. But even these contacts should be kept to a minimum. We should cultivate the feeling that we are working in isolation.”
Surprisingly, not talking to the people around me was not my biggest challenge. Perhaps it was because I did not know them so well. We had just met and chatted several hours before so the emotional bond was not there yet.
My biggest challenge, I found, was the fact that I could not write and tell stories (verbal or in writing) to my friends.
I miss telling stories to my friends—to you—and sharing my impressions with them—with you. I miss my friends—miss you. It took 10 days of noble silence to help me realize how much sharing with my friends—with you—mean to me.
The hills and the clouds gave their second lesson:” Be patient. Wait until the process has finished, wait until it is all clear to you, then share your stories”.
The moon, which hanged around until 7Am that day, augmented the lesson: “The friends will still be there when you finish, waiting for your to return to them.”
