So vain

This thought has actually crossed my mind several times. I only decide to write it now though. Finally. A hard headed high pride person such as I – you have got to hit my head more than once for me to get what you are saying. Or rather, to accept it.

First occurrence.

Meeting a new friend, a fellow traveler who has traveled longer than I am. She gave me her e-mail and blog address. I could not refrain from giving her mine.

Hers was simpler – a smart playful modification of her name. Mine was and still is “a pilgrim for life”. I felt embarrassed as I was writing it. It crossed my mind whether mine should have been humbler, simpler, and neutral. Who am I to claim that I am a pilgrim for life or even to proclaim and to announce it to the world? Show off! But time passed by. I let it pass.

Second occurrence.

A comment from stranger in the blog. He (I presume it was a he) left a link to his blog. I clicked the link and found that his was even more amazing than my first story – he did not even reveal his identity. He has poured all those great thoughts in his blog yet managed to stay anonymous. He seems to understand very well that it is the writings, the messages that are important whereas the writer can stay at the back seat or out of the car at all. I felt more embarrassed.

I thought about changing the name of the blog. But at the end I decided that I would keep the name, at least for the time being. To remind me of how vain I am. To remind me I still have a lot of pride in me. I still have a long way to go.

I traveled back in time and re-read a passage that was sent to me once by another friend. She said: “The process of self purification (nafí) continues side-by-side with everyday responsibilities, rather than as with some traditions (tariqah), whose practices often constitute no more than removal from one cultural context to another."

The passage continued, "A change in outward form does not necessarily mean inner change, so unless there is a specific reason for doing so, the public wearing of distinctive clothes, the eating of special foods, or adoption of alien customs, is avoided."

She added that this is one way which genuine Sufi groups can be marked out from pseudo-ones, who show by their desire to stand out from the crowd, an attachment to ego, rather than a lack of it.

Agree. Yet here I am still using huge name such as "a pilgrim for life" for my blog. Geez. Talk about standing out from the crowd. Oh well.

Thank you, friends. Thank you, strangers.

Showing my color

Proudly wearing my nationality on my sleeve :) The flag of Indonesia. Celebrating the 61st anniversary of its independence. The rest of my comment, see this.

Hi, how are you?

I wrote in my yahoo messenger to a friend, trying to make a conversation. She did not reply. Apparently it was a ‘zombie’ – where the user seems online but he or she is not.

Oh well. Then the next morning she buzzed me. What’s up, she asked. Nothing, I said, just wanted to know how you were. Does anything have to be up? I did not know that I need a reason to call a friend other than just want to know how he or she is.

The previous time was even worse. When I called up another friend to say hi, she asked how she could help me. She said in this modern world, when people called up other people, where was always something. People are just too busy to call for a chat and nothing else.

Sad but there is some truth in it. This so-called modern society has gotten into a strictly business stop-wasting-my-time-if-you-have-nothing-to-say mode, full of vested interest. Ck, no, I should not be this skeptic.

A reminder of how all great leaders of religions have always advised the importance of maintaining bonds among friends and neighbors, of the beauty of smile and of the simple gesture of greetings.

Can we do that? Smile to other people. Say hi to friends. Greet the janitors or security guards or whomever you pass by. Say thank you for every little favor a person has done for us. Can we?

- Aah, this reminds me of your Smile campaign, Ai :) -

The mouse is in the house!

Literally. Even ‘worse’, there was a mouse in my room last night. Yuck, you say. Yeah, part of the consequence of living in a tropical country, having your room next to a garden, and opening your window at night.

I could not sleep. The thought of there was a mouse that might suddenly jump over me did bother me. Then my mind started to wonder.

I was thinking what if the mouse gets into my open suitcase – which was just lying on the floor half-packed for tomorrow. Perhaps I should zip it. Then I thought well, on the other side of the room lied my mom’s suitcase. Will it be too selfish of me to just zip my suitcase only and not hers?

The mind shifted to dear old Mom. I recited a prayer for her. And Dad.

My thoughts then went to the people who had to live with mouse etc in their houses – perhaps those who live in the refugee camps or slump areas. Mouse bites are very dangerous to children yet they can do very little about it.

I started to do my invocation (or dzikr in Arabic).

Poor little mouse, I thought. It was just trying to find its way out of my room. It too was afraid of the situation and perhaps was panicking. It did not mean any harm. We are all just trying to survive and live our lives.

I was calming down. I continued my invocation. The mouse found its way out of the room through the same window it went in from. My room was once again in total silence. My mind was at peace.

It is amazing what thoughts a little mouse can trigger. Perhaps God was running out of options on how to wake me up in the middle of the night for a chat.

Family death

In this last two weeks, I have attended two funerals. Two uncles of mine have passed away, one of lung cancer and the other of diabetes. May they rest in peace. Kind people.

In addition to feeling sad, I am always amazed how funerals can get all the family, relatives and friends together. They always manage to work hand in hand to ensure that the deceased has a proper burial. In less than 24 hours, we get all things done – efficiently and solemnly. Why cannot we do the same for other family get-together events such as weddings or birthdays?

They said attending funerals is one way to remind us of our own death. Imagine how we feel when we see our own body lies there. Imagine how we feel when they put our body into the coffin. Imagine how we feel to see our loved ones cried over us. Imagine the kind of things that we have not done or said to our family. Imagine what will happen after the burial has finished and we are left alone. What will happen after that?

To me, funerals always reminds me of my late father. It reminds me of how I too will part with my own immediate family, sooner or later - not sure whether it will be sooner or later, unsure whether I will go first or last. It makes me think –

Death also brings about many questions. Have I done all the things that I want to do or is there still anything that I will regret the day I die? Have I lived the way I am supposed to live? What will happen after we die? Will we go to heaven or hell? Is there heaven or hell? Will we reincarnate or is this the only life we have? Can the dead really visit the living? Will we meet those who have died earlier? Will we see the angels and the Big Guy?

My late uncles were good people. May they rest in peace. May we all have peace, even before we die.

Two more questions: Are we ready to die now? Why are people so afraid of dying?

What's God?

Several months ago, a friend and I were having a conversation - you know, the usual conversation about spirituality, religion, God, etc. Suddenly my friend asked, "What's God?". I was struck dumb for a second. Then I said, "To explain God with words will be to undermine Him.".

I don't know why I answered the question that way. It came out, just like that.

It was several months ago but if you ask me again that very question, I will stand by my previous answer: "To explain the very definition of God with words will be to undermine Him."

A determined soul

I have just expressed my admiration to the Ehret High School Basketball team, which has just won an ESPY awards, in my other blog Chipping in.

Their effort reminded me of a Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1850-1919), an American poet, writer and, as her admirers put it, a free thinker. The Poem titled "Will" goes like this:

There is no chance, no destiny, no fate
Can circumvent, or hinder, or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul.

Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;

All things give way before it soon or late.
What obstacle can stay the mighty force
Of the sea-seeking river in its course,

Or cause the ascending orb of day to wait?
Each well-born soul must win what it deserves.

Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate
Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,
Whose slightest action or inaction serves
The one great aim.

Why, even Death stands still
And waits an hour sometimes for such a will.

Beautiful people

My uncle has been hospitalized for the last month. He is divorced and he lives with his small kids from his second marriage. So he is very independent in taking care of himself and the kids on a daily basis – which is a challenge when he is in hospital. Then along came these wonderful people:

His daughter from his first marriage – adding her father to a million errands that are already on her list.

His sister (a.k.a my aunt) – all the way from another city. She goes back and forth to take care of him.

His nephew (a.k.a my cousin) – He is a doctor who specializes in public health. A truly social person. He often has to fly in and out of Jakarta to help people in need (and believe me, there are a lot in Indonesia). When he is in Jakarta, he visits my uncle and tends to his needs. When he is about to leave town, he calls my mom or brother to make sure that everything will be taken care of. He visits the hospital the day he returns to Jakarta.

His sister in law (a.k.a. my dear mom) – Honestly, she is an amazing woman. She takes care of a lot of things. She takes in the small children. She visits or sends someone to visit him everyday. She thinks about his needs – medicine, clean clothes, milk, etc.

His nieces and nephews (a.k.a my brothers and sisters) – I think it is more because we cannot let Mom be in this alone. But it ends well – they lend a hand whenever it is needed, especially whenever it gets too much for Mom.

I will not hide the fact that there are a lot of unnecessary complications and hesitant people during this process. But I decided to focus on the beautiful people I have mentioned above.

As long as there are these beautiful people in this world, there is hope.

Sub blog: Chipping in

I have decided to make another blog, well one type of blog in two versions: the English and Indonesian site of Chipping In.

This is how I want to divide my writings (I did wonder whether you really care enough to read this, but what the heck, it is my blog)

The pilgrim for life – This one. The usual stuffs. Whatever comes to mind that I want to share with you. Very personal. The results of some of the everyday struggle of my poor overworked brain and heart. The kind of things that might make people wonder, “Why do you complicate your life with such thoughts and wonders?” or “Why do you need to question every single thing in life?”. Happened before.

Chipping in – A more practical site. (My definition of practical). All the incidents (or catastrophes), ideas and actions that grab my attention or cross my mind and support the idea of making the world a better place. (Sorry to be a bit idealistic. Um, on second thought, no, I am not so sorry.) Mind you, I might focus on my own country Indonesia.

This will also include all the actions that either high profile people or everyday heroes do that strike me as extraordinary – positively and negatively speaking.

I will put my own raw thoughts that might need some more cooking – and here is where I would appreciate any of you to chip in.

Seuluran tangan - The Indonesian version of chipping in. I could not make up my mind whether I should write in Indonesian or English. So I just do both. And I still do not know how to make categories in a blog. So I make to separate ones.

My Nepal and Tibet trip – obvious. Need I say more?

Thanks for visiting, for reading and especially for caring.

Another precious moment

A different interpretation of "precious moment" in my book: the time I spend with my beloved family.



A Kodak moment, you might say. Taken last weekend at Puncak Pass resort, West Java.

Precious moments

I have just realized something
I cannot remember when was the last time we spoke with each other
I miss that. Precious moments

Those nights
In the early hours
When there were just the two of us and nobody else
Precious moments. I miss that

Those nights
When I told you whatever was on my mind
When you showered me with all the love and wisdom
There were no more secrets. Only simple peace

There were a lot of words and silence
Occasional smiles and tears
Pure love and hurts
How can the twos be put side by side?

It does not seem fair, I know
I do all the taking while you do all the giving
Yet you never seem to mind
You just keep on giving. And loving
Can I ever be like you?
Can I be you? Or is this a statement too bold to make?

Those nights
When I could really feel you beside me
I was about to say 'in me'
but people might misunderstood our relationship

But 'within me' is actually the more correct term
You were closer than my own veins
As you promised in one of your letters
Precious moments. I miss that

I wondered why I felt so restless
Where was the peace that I thought I have found once?
I have my friends and family around me
I am at home. I have all the things that might make people envious
I am lucky, I am fully aware of that. And I am grateful for that
Yet I felt heavy inside – I am confused

I wanted to blame the chaotic environment around me
But I know I could not
If there is somebody to blame, it would be me

Even then you would say there is nobody to blame
It is a process I have to go through
To realize that there is no higher love than yours
To know there is nowhere I would rather be than to be with you
Only by remembering you, that I can feel peace

I know I should not just count on only those nights
I should be able to feel that peace each second of my life
As I know you are there every step of the way
I am not there yet, it is a process I need to go through
For the time being, I will hold on to those nights

But those nights were a long time ago
Those nights when we had our long conversation
In the early hours
Just the two of us

I want to feel that intimacy again
When I can share whatever is on my mind
When you shower me with all the love and wisdom

When there are no more secrets, no more pride
Pure honesty, pure love, and hurts
Precious moments. I miss that.

I have so many things to share with you
Perhaps we should meet. Tonight?

A message from the water

I went to a seminar on the true power of (hexagonal) water. The seminar discussed about the hexagonal water crystal based on the research of Doctor Masaru Emoto and how simple words or wishes can change the structure of water. Hexagonal is supposed to be the most useful or absorbable structure of water for human body. (Do forgive me if I make any technical mistakes).

Emoto-san, which was the main speaker in the seminar, showed all sorts of shapes of water crystals that had been labeled or called by positive and negative names. The word vibrates and affects the water. It changed the water structure one molecule at a time. The water affects whatever is around it. The domino effect does its thing again. All positive words have created beautiful hexagonal crystal that keeps growing. It was amazing.

Whether you believe it or not, it is entirely up to you. But let us say it is true. If small things like labeling or calling something can change the structure of the water, imagine what happens to us and to our body when somebody call us with bad names - bearing in mind that at least 70% of our body consists of water (baby 98%, children 80%). What will happen if we keep on saying bad things - to others and to ourselves? We are destroying our own selves. Vice versa, if we say good things.

To me, the seminar serves at least as a reminder of how even the smallest things can make or break someone – our friends, our family, our partner, our children, ourselves. It was a good reminder.

So I supposed what the Professor was saying was correct. He cleverly titled his presentation “A message from the water”. It was an important message indeed: one that advises us to love others and ourselves through simple means of positive thoughts, words and attitudes. Thank you.

PS: Warmest regards to all my new friends whom I met in the seminar. You do not realize how meeting you has reminded me how ‘green’ I am in the field of seeking oneself, how I have yet so much to learn, and how I am nothing compared to other people. I have nothing to be proud of. I have everything to feel blessed for.

Happy birthday, pop

Happy birthday to my father. Well, my late father, but one whom I still hold so dearly in my heart and will always do until foverever. (question: does it still make sense to say happy birthday to someone who has passed away?)

If you are reading this, pop, I want you to know that we are all doing fine here. You need not worry about anything.

If you are reading this, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. God bless.

Ma’s business card

The late Mother Teresa used to hand out prayer cards, which she referred to as her “business cards”. On them were printed the words:


The fruit of silence is prayer
The fruit of prayer is faith
The fruit of faith is love
The fruit of love is service
The fruit of service is peace.


“This is good business.” She liked to tell people as she dispensed them.

- Taken from Kathryn Spink’s book titled “Mother Teresa” -

Note: It is amazing how one's love to God can lead to such relentless effort, undying peace and unconditional devotion.

I wonder what He has in store for me

Ever wonder what God has in store for you? I have. I am right now.

It has been almost three weeks since I have returned in Jakarta. Time sure flies. Life has been going pretty strange. This is what I have done: I have met quite a number of people. I have heard many updates from my friends about their life and 'challenges'. I have been spending time with my family. I have renewed my driving license. I went to the bank to get a new PIN number. I have written one proposal and one brochure. I am about to attend two sessions on healing and on spiritualism. I have been learning more about healing. I have been going out of town with my family to take care of family issues. Not bad for a first month back from sabbatical.

This is what I have not done. I have not made up my mind on what specifically I want to focus on – career-wise – in my life. I have not made any plan for my freelancing career. I have not completely unpacked my suitcase yet. I have not secured any project (and thus, income) for me for the next months. I have not returned to any particular routine. I have not done much exercise and yoga. I have not read as much as I used to back in Spain.

My life is so unorganized and unclear, yet I feel fine. This is so untypical of me. Which makes me wonder why He has led me to this path. I wonder, but I do not mind at all. To put it strangely, the only thing I worry about is probably the fact that I am not worried.

A friend of mine questioned why I needed to go so far for so long just to learn the obviously simple lesson that she had known all along: that we should just let life flows, that we should not think too much about too many things, and that we should enjoy things as they come. Lucky her. Stupid me.

Unfortunately, some of us need to travel a longer route to realize that. I am still traveling my road. I have not got there yet but I am getting there. Lucky me. Thanks, God. Owe you one (more).

Why the hell did you return anyway?

If you are not an Indonesian or you have never lived in Indonesia, I am pretty sure that you have heard about the condition of the country. Thanks to the International media and the multimedia/Internet technology. If you are an avid CNN viewer, then you might have a pretty strong view of Indonesia and probably pity those who 'are forced' to live there.

If you are an Indonesian or you happen to have the opportunity to live here, well, I need not say more about the country.

So that very question came from several dear friends of mine and my own sister: why do you want to return to Indonesia anyway when you have the option to live abroad? My answer - and I shall put it in bold: because I want to somehow help develop my country.

Cliché. Idealistic. Dreamer. Unrealistic. A big joke. Still, the answer came from the very bottom of my heart. So help me God.

PS: If anyone has a constructive concrete suggestion on how to do it, I am listening.

Freelancing! Freedom! And then what?

It is official. I have resigned from my full time position in my company, Maverick. It has nothing to do with the company. I love it to bits, I love my bosses, and I love my colleagues. I just want to have more room to decide what I want to do and what I want to focus on.

I am entering a new phase on my career. I am giving freelancing a try. I am free! (Call if you need a PR person - wink wink)

I was so confident of myself. I still am. Nevertheless, yesterday I was reading a book titled Working from Home and it dawned to me: I do not have anybody else to hang on to but myself. I do not have a corporate regiment that I can follow. I need to manage myself. I need to control my mood more. I need to think of my income target. I need to have a plan.

My high-geared brain is doing its thing again, fueling the worries within. I wonder how far I should plan and how far I should just let life flows – where do I need to draw the line between them? See how complicated my brain works? Maybe my friend was right. I do think too much. I can feel God smiling at me and saying 'gotcha'.

I suppose freedom has its price to pay. Just like money, power and everything else, freedom is not and should not be an end. We cannot make freedom our objective. It is a means to an end.

The more important question now is: what will I do with my freedom? A question unanswered. Without trying to sound arrogant, sometimes I feel that I am blessed with having too many options or ideas. It is a luxury, I know, but is still a challenge for me. I need to decide on what I want to focus on and to prioritize things. Otherwise, I will soon be tired once again.

So let’s do it one step at a time, shall we? For now, I am entering a new phase on my career. I am giving freelancing a try. (Call if you need a PR person - wink wink)

Happy birthday to a friend

… a dear friend, a beautiful person.

I know you like this song. This is the only song that I have ever heard you sing along to.

Losing my religion
by: REM

Life is bigger
It’s bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no I’ve said too much
I set it up

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

Every whisper
Of every waking hour I’m
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I’ve said too much
I set it up

Consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failed
What if all these fantasies
Come flailing around
Now I’ve said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try

But that was just a dream
That was just a dream

Have a peaceful birthday - full of simple happiness and love. If only you realized how precious, gifted and blessed you really are. Take care.

Home at last – thank you, Spain

I am home at last in Jakarta.

When my aircraft was taking off from Madrid airport, my sister asked whether I wanted to say goodbye to Spain. I said no because I am returning here someday. After a short pause, I added, “but I do want to say ‘thank you’ to Spain. Thanks for all the experience and lessons.” Not goodbye, but thank you.

The journey home itself was incredibly smooth. All the problems that I had projected did not turned into reality (fortunately) - the carrying of the luggage from the hotel to the car, the car itself, the check in process, the overload baggage and the complication with the immigration as well as the tax refund office.

I got teased a bit (by God, who else) though when my flight MAD-BKK was delayed. We did not know whether we would be able to make it for our connecting flight. We did at last but barely. We were among the last passengers to board the aircraft and it was already a last call. It was too close for my liking. I was about to lose my temper but then I managed to return to my “oh well” state. A taste of what is to come.

Then home at last. My brothers, sister, nieces, nephews, etc welcomed us home – not sure whether my nieces and nephews were more excited about us going home or about getting their presents. They made a banner for my sis (their mom) “welcome mommy”. They quarrel about who gets the best present. Jakarta is still with its traffic jam and lack of discipline among the drivers. My cat is still as fat and lazy as ever. There was a lot of interchange of SMS with friends. I started to work out whom I should meet and when. Nothing has changed much. It feels like the home that I know.

Spain was a training ground for me. It was a bit like – but on a much smaller and insignificant scale – a hermit monk in his monastery. Now it is time to practice what I have learned so far.

There was no goodbye to Spain. Only thank you.

PS: book read during the journey home: The pilgrimage by Paul Coelho. Recommended.

Andalusia, Catalonia and the Basque Country

It has just occurred to me that I have chosen the most interesting places in Spain to visit, with all due respect to the other regions. I went to Andalusia, Catalonia, the Basque Country and Madrid.

Madrid of course, is the capital of Spain. Enough said.

Andalusia, Seville in particular, has practically been my home in Spain. I met most of my closed friends there. I spent enough time there to have a strong emotional link with the region. The beauty of the region, the festive atmosphere, the passion, the informality, the familiarity and warmth of the people (plus the extreme cold (with few proper heating) and the extreme heat even in Spring (sigh)) will be in my heart forever. It was a perfect place for me to loosen up and to get more relaxed about life (my boss would love reading this).

Catalonia and the Basque country have been... – how do I say this without being too political and without touching the sensitive issue? Impossible. Ok, Catalonia and Basque are the two regions in Spain who have openly been stating that they want more independence. Sounds familiar if I tie it back to Indonesia. Yet I was there in both regions and I loved the place. The people, the scenery and the atmosphere were just as welcoming and glorious as any other places.

I wonder why I had the urge to go to those regions. There has to be a lesson in tact. The only thing I can think of is that I should be able to draw a parallel line with what has happened in my country and its restless regions. The people and the region are just as beautiful as any other regions. Nobody wants war or problems. If only we try to understand each other better, if only we can find a way to solve the problem and live peacefully hand in hand.

[Many stories. This is what happens if I am allowed too much free time while, for instance, waiting for my mom and sis to arrive]

PS: Just incase you want to travel to San Sebastian, the Basque Country, the Pension that I stayed in is to die for. It is called Pension Amaiur.