Never been into Novembers

November afternoon in Stappleton Park, from ArtRenewal.org

I don't know why
The love life of mine
Have never reached Novembers
Never
It's funny, isn't it?
Like a neat and tidy pattern:
All of them crashed, boomed, banged
in Octobers

And this is one November again in my life
A year after another
I keep seeing
and I don't know why:
love have never survived Octobers

They let me encounter end of years by myself
So maybe that I can reflect
and meditate
and think a lot
all by myself

because love,
they all ended up in Octobers

Childhood days where art thou?

Our memories are our enemies. We love them but we hate them. Every time we generate the old memories in our mind, they also generate the bittersweet feelings that have strong effects to us that we are not able to control. The memories that can sweep away the present feelings. They can overcome, flooded and stab like a knife. Bluntly, without mercy. The presence can be swept away suddenly when they bring you to the past occasions, or people, or smell, or events, or sounds, or looks, or shapes, or feelings. Consciousness and awareness of the past, maybe that's what distinguish us from animals, or plants, or organisms. We might be God's ultimate creation. But we bear the consequences much harder than other creations too as the consequence. And it is not always easy to be having a brain aka mind that keeps remembering and that is capable to retrieve the old memories and attack our weaknesses by doing it.

These are some sort of glimpses of memories from childhood that can overwhelm me at times:

• Small rock cave that we found near the vacant land, that we decorated with small porcelain statue of Mother Mary and plastic pines we took from our plastic green Christmas tree
• Small rock cave we found where a female dog gave birth and bit one of us
• Wild flowers bloomed, the dark blue trumpet with yellow middle petals
• The smell of dry soil after the first rain
• The smell of wild herbs in the morning
• The feeling of looking at the miniature model of a grass hut that I made at the left hand side of our house yard
• The sound of Christmas songs from our house
• The smell of baked cakes and cookies weeks before Christmas
• The time Mom and Dad sat with us at the dining table and everyone told stories
• Dawn time march on Easter Day
• The rain in November and December
• The flowing clean creek at the back of our old house..and the sound of it
• The angry flowing creek during the rainy season
• The sound of ocean's wave during stormy days
• The totally dark skies during rainy season
• Shallot's green and white shoots in damp soils
• Starfruit flowers
• My house models from card boards 

I miss the days. 
I miss those old childhood days. 
When the world is not hostile to you. 
When life is not complicated. 
When it's you and the big world and the mysteries around are waiting to be explored. 
When the parents are all around for you

You get to choose

"With everything that has happened to you, you can either feel sorry for yourself or treat what has happened as a gift. Everything is either an opportunity to grow or an obstacle to keep you from growing. You get to choose." 

-- Wayne W. Dyer 

From: your inspirational quote

I chose to grow

I choose to grow

I will keep choosing to grow

I refused to give up

I refuse to give up

I will keep refusing to give up

Pic from: Aspiremag.net

Sitting beside David in the mountains and sing this Psalm

Psalm 13[a]

For the director of music. A psalm of David.

1 How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?

usquequo Domine oblivisceris mei penitus usquequo abscondes faciem tuam a me

2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
    How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Usquequo ponam consilia in anima mea dolorem in corde meo per diem

3 Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
    Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,

usquequo exaltabitur inimicus meus super me

4 and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
    and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

convertere exaudi me Domine Deus meus inlumina oculos meos ne umquam obdormiam in mortem

5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
    my heart rejoices in your salvation.

nequando dicat inimicus meus praevalui adversus eum hostes mei exultabunt cum motus fuero

6 I will sing the Lord’s praise,
    for he has been good to me.

ego autem in misericordia tua confido exultabit cor meum in salutari tuo cantabo Domino quia reddidit mihi

ו  וַאֲנִי, בְּחַסְדְּךָ בָטַחְתִּי--    יָגֵל לִבִּי, בִּישׁוּעָתֶךָ:
אָשִׁירָה לַיהוָה,    כִּי גָמַל עָלָי.

This Psalm was used by God's people during prolonged suffering. They would sing it during a prolonged illness or prolonged famine. Many of God's people have an incurable disease or have been under the chastening or refining hand of God for a long time. Such people should sit beside David in the mountains and sing the thirteenth Psalm (http://www.fbbc.com/messages/hyles_psalms.htm).

Written around 3000 years ago, yet it is still relevant today! Amazing...   

"Objects Of My Affection" - Peter, Bjorn and John

I remember when, when I first moved here
A long time ago
'Cause I'd heard some song I used to hear back then
A long time ago

I remember when, even further back
In another town
'Cause I saw something written I used to say back then
Hard to comprehend

And the question is, was I more alive then than I am now?
I happily have to disagree
I laugh more often now, I cry more often now
I am more me

But of course some days I just lie around
And hardly exist
And can't tell apart what I'm eating
From my hand or my wrist

'Cause flesh is flesh, flesh as flesh as flesh
The difference is thin
But life has a certain ability of breathing new life into me
So I breathe it in

It says here we are and we all are here
And you still can make sense
If you just show up and present an honest face
Instead of that grin

And the question is, was I more alive then than I am now?
I happily have to disagree
I laugh more often now, I cry more often now
I am more me

And the other day, this new friend of mine
Said something to me
"Just because something starts differently
Doesn't mean it's worth less"

And I soaked it in, how I soaked it in
How I soaked it in
And just as to prove how right he was
Then you came

So I'm gonna give, yes I'm gonna give
I'm gonna give you a try
So I'm gonna give, yes I'm gonna give
I'm gonna give you a try

And the question is, was I more alive then than I am now?
I happily have to disagree
I laugh more often now, I cry more often now
I am more me

Octobers nightmares

I can hardly recall any good things took place in Octobers of my life.

October 2003: devastating Am's statement
October 2007: dad passed away
October 2009: broke with As
October 2013: J's gone

If Green Day says 'wake me up when September ends', I'd like to add: and October too...wake me up when October ends. Wake me up from this cruel month when it ends...

It's been 40 days and she's singing with the angels

I dreamed of water last night. A lot of water. A broad, lengthy river, with very calm and easy flow to follow. I and some people from work walked through the river, following the flow. We were all soaked, but happily continued the journey. So fresh...the cool wind blow made me immersed in a such nature's beauty. I saw some other people also talked about money and the journey. They were mumbling and I did not really notice what they're actually saying. It was so fresh that when I woke up this morning, I felt the coolness and freshness that were brought by the water still came into effect. Like a reborn, who is revealing from the water. 

And I suddenly thought, it's the 40th day since she's gone. Maybe it's really the time for me to let her go, like, no longer thinking that she has just departed to other city or other country on a trip, and will be back home any time soon. Or later. And we have been waiting for 40 days.. it has been such a long long trip and we hear no news back from her. Maybe she just forgot to call. 

And this morning, I woke up and prayed, then opened the curtains. The sun shines so bright. Like heavenly ray of lights creep into my room. The birds were chirping outside. So, oh, I thought, now is the time to wipe out the sorrow, the grief, that I have been trying hard to cope with these days. It is a beautiful day. Time to go on, time to move on. 

I stood up and turned on the radio to cheer up this beautiful day. I thought, what a beautiful Monday. And Sarah McLachlan sang the "Angel" song. Really contra-productive to the cheerful morning..or not? But as a result, I cried a river listening to the song. I always always thought the grief was over because I tried to meet way too many people, talking to way too many people, doing lots of things so to make my life back to normal again, like before 4th September 2013. But I haven't got over it yet, apparently. I cry a lot this morning and even now, as much as I cried the day she was buried. And Sarah MacLachlan keeps singing..

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always some reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memories seep from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of the angelfly away from here   
..........
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here

And I don't know why, I envy her. Whatever she is doing now, I know she's in an endless happiness. Singing with angels in that great heavenly choir with billions of holy souls before God... while we have been left wondering, when will she returns home...or sends us news. 

We try to think that we can keep her at home, in this profane world. We pretend to forget that her true home is not here. The home of her beautiful soul is where she is now. In eternity. Before the Trinity, where she meets Father and Jesus and the Holy Spirit.  

It is us who are still on our journey (in this world), not her. We have been waiting for her to return home all these 40 days after her flight. But in fact, she is the one who's waiting for us to return home. It is us who are still wandering, not her.  


Jakarta, 14 October 2013