Sang Penjaga

"Aku sudah memaafkanmu."Kata perempuan itu. Dan saat itu juga, sebuah pintu entah dari mana datangnya tiba-tiba menganga. Lalu menyemburlah bias-bias cahaya yang mendesing beribu sumpah serapah kepada laki-laki di seberang perempuan itu.

Malam itu begitu gelap. Tidak terdengar apa-apa selain derap suara kaki kuda yang sayup-sayup terdengar di kejauhan, namun tidak pernah terlihat wujudnya. Jalan di depan begitu sempit dan tertutup dengan pasir serta rerumputan kering yang merunduk seolah tergilas oleh kereta-kereta kuda yang tak pernah terlihat itu. Setiap kita menghembus nafas, asap kabut mengepul seolah malam itu begitu dingin. Kadang aku menggigil, tapi karena takut. Kutemukan diriku berkeringat, bukan karena langkahku yang menderu; tapi karena dadaku yang berdentam begitu kencang.

Pernahkah kamu mendengar tentang penjaga perempuan? Bukan, bukan perempuan penjaga. Perempuan penjaga, yang aku tahu, begitu cantik rupanya. Ia menjaga setiap insan di dunia. Dialah ibunda, dialah perempuan penjaga.

Sementara penjaga perempuan, tak terperi rupanya. Kamu tidak akan pernah bisa menduga seperti apa rupa penjagamu karena mereka berbeda-beda, tergantung siapa yang mereka jaga. Dialah bentuk terburuk sekaligus terkuat.

Ya, mereka menjaga setiap perempuan yang berdiri di muka bumi.

Dulunya, mereka adalah doa-doa. Mereka melayang-layang dengan lembut di udara. Seperti ubur-ubur lembut di tengah samudra, berenang-renang kesana kemari tak tentu arah. Menunggu. Kadang mereka menggelitik siapapun yang tak sengaja bersentuhan dengannya. Lalu, saat seorang ibu mengejan untuk mengeluarkan setiap bayi bayi dari rahimnya, leher mereka seperti tercekik. Lalu mereka terenggut dan ikut terlahir bersama bayi-bayi tersebut. Hanya saja, dengan bentuk yang jauh berbeda.

Dulunya, mereka juga adalah penjaga laki-laki. Mereka mengajarkan laki-laki bagaimana untuk menjadi berani dan mengajarkan bagaimana menjaga ibu dan semua perempuan-perempuan yang berdiri di muka bumi. Sayang, mereka lalu terbunuh oleh mimpi. Mimpi-mimpi kotor penuh   mani yang menggelontor dan menyebabkan mereka tenggelam. Sejak saat itu, laki-laki ditakdirkan untuk menjaga dirinya sendiri. Ya, sendiri.

Sebagian dari mereka tetap menjaga perempuan. Setiap rasa sakit yang dialami oleh perempuan adalah doa yang membuat mereka semakin kuat. Dan setiap menstruasi, penjaga-penjaga perempuan itu seperti terlahir kembali. Mereka tak pernah mati, dan setia melindungi sang perempuan hingga mereka mati.

Tiba-tiba derap kaki kuda itu mendekat ke telinga. Begitu dekat hingga aku menyadari bahwa itu bukan suara derap kaki. Tapi penggal nafas yang terasa panas dan sayup-sayup terdengar ribuan mulut membisikkan sebuah kata berkali-kali, lagi dan lagi.

"Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati. Mati...."

Aku teringat sesaat sebelum aku berada di sini. Aku menangis karena sakit. Aku menangis karena cinta. Dan aku menangis karena aku berhasil memaafkan laki-laki yang berdiri di hadapanku.

Aku memaafkannya, tapi tidak dengan penjaga-penjagaku. Dan saat itulah pintu lorong tiba-tiba terbuka dan membawaku kemari, tempat dimana aku harus berperang dengan penjagaku sendiri.

Photo by Annie Leibovitz

To punish or not to punish

“Is it important to make someone feel punished?
Or is it more important for them to solve the mistake he or she has done?”


For kids, doing mistake is a very common thing. Spill over milk, played with your favorite bubble bath, treated your perfume like a room freshener, or simply disobeyed you. Many more things I don’t need to describe, I guess. Yeah, … those things that stood you up :)

For us, their parent, sometimes those were not only mistakes. Those were also things that stood us up. Many times, they were the reasons why we gave punishment to our kids. Reasons why we gave them Time Outs, grounded them for no chocolate or candies, to stay in their room or no TV. I hope none of us ever hit our kids just because.

I was included on those who gave Time Outs to my son, even though I tried to be democratic by letting him pick the spot.

But then I learned that giving Time Outs (or maybe any other form of punishments) was useless. They did not bring my child to higher level in learning life. I found that he did the Time Out just because I said so, not because he knew or understood that he deserved a punishment. Therefore he kept doing the mistake and a Time Out was no longer frightened him. Not only that. The most important is that giving a punishment did not solve the problem.

Then I started to think, “Is it important to make someone feel punished? Or is it more important for them to solve the mistake he or she has done?”

Ever since, I no longer gave my son Time Outs. I started introduced him the logical consequences, of every thing he has done. Good acts, bad acts, every decision we made, everything in life has consequences. Voila, it works better than giving him Time Outs. He learnt his mistakes.

When he became sloppy and spilled his drink, he would take a tissue and wipe it off.

When he bumped his head, he would take the medicated oil himself.

When he refused to eat and kept playing, and his tummy got upset then he got ‘masuk angin’ and couldn’t stop vomiting, he knew he would need to take care all the mess.  And he did.

When he did not finish his meal or milk, I told him to never ask for meals / milk for the rest of his life and he should had been grateful of every meals I served him. He (finally) did finish his meals and at the next occasion, he carefully asked for the perfect portion he could finish.

Punishment won’t bring us anywhere, and maybe that is why this country is going nowhere. I hope I can make a little difference for the future, through my kids.

This writing also published here

To punish or not to punish

“How important is it to make someone feel punished?
Or is it more important for them to solve the mistake he or she has done?"

For kids, doing mistake is a very common thing. Spill over milk, played with your favorite bubble bath, treated your perfume like a room freshener, or simply disobeyed you. Many more things I don’t need to describe, I guess. Yeah, … those things that stood you up :)

For us, their parent, sometimes those were not only mistakes. Those were also things that stood us up. Many times, they were the reasons why we gave punishment to our kids. Reasons why we gave them Time Outs, grounded them for no chocolate or candies, to stay in their room or no TV. I hope none of us ever hit our kids just because.

I was included on those who gave Time Outs to my son, even though I tried to be democratic by letting him pick the spot.

But then I learned that giving Time Outs (or maybe any other form of punishments) was useless. They did not bring my child to higher level in learning life. I found that he did the Time Out just because I said so, not because he knew or understood that he deserved a punishment. Therefore he kept doing the mistake and a Time Out was no longer frightened him. Not only that. The most important is that giving a punishment did not solve the problem.

Then I started to think, “Is it important to make someone feel punished? Or is it more important for them to solve the mistake he or she has done?”

Ever since, I no longer gave my son Time Outs. I started introduced him the logical consequences, of every thing he has done. Good acts, bad acts, every decision we made, everything in life has consequences.

Voila, it works better than giving him Time Outs. He learnt his mistakes.

When he became sloppy and spilled his drink, he would take a tissue and wipe it off.

When I warned him to stop jumping around and he ended up bumped his head, he would take the medicated oil himself.

When he accidentally hurt someone, he would ask for an apology PLUS "What should I do to make you feel better" question. Yes, I taught him that because I know saying sorry (many times) do not solve anything.  But there are always things we can do to make people feel better.

When he refused to eat and kept playing, and his tummy got upset then he got ‘masuk angin’ and couldn’t stop vomiting, he knew he would need to take care all the mess.  And he did.

When he did not finish his meal or milk, I told him to never ask for meals / milk for the rest of his life and he should had been grateful of every meals I served him. He (finally) did finish his meals and at the next occasion, he carefully asked for the perfect portion he could finish.

Punishment won’t bring us anywhere, and maybe that is why this country is going nowhere. I hope I can make a little difference for the future, by teaching my kids to be responsible of all things he has done.

... me lately.

Going lacey...

Loving flowers...

Craving for cute stuffs....

... and cook sometimes.

Going lacey, loving flowers, craving for cute dining or tea set and cook sometimes.
O, what is happening to me? :)

From the heart

I have been running this motherhood blog for about eight months, but never I wrote about myself. Since today is pretty breezy, work is not really piling up and I am quite in the mood,  ... I think its a good day to start sharing you of who I am.

I am the mother of Malicca Titan, a boy who just hit 5 yesterday. I am basically an ordinary mother who is trying to be extra ordinary. But then I know, being a capable mother is way harder than being extraordinaire. I don't have any particular role model of parenting style. I just ask a lot, browse a lot, discuss alot and confirming alot. In the end, I take all the good parts that is suitable and doable for me and my son.

My concept in parenting is simple: I want my son to know what he wants and be responsible of his decision. Having said that, my task as a parent should be simple too. That is to  give him as much choices as I can so he can scan all possibilities, think all the good and bad, rank the priorities, decide and take the consequences. Sounds simple though, but trust me... it is not :)

I am a single parent. I juggle between working in an advertising agency and home. I am the custodian but I never close or limit his father's access to him. And for a custodian, it is important for me to keep earning. Not only money, but also to earn more time to be with my child. So, ... since I split up with my former husband; it is a bit hard to hang out with my friends because I have to make time for my son. Some people think that I have been an outcast and pulling my self out of the world since the divorce. Or get traumatized.

The truth is, I am not. I get on my life; it is just things are not the same anymore. For the first time, being a single parent is like you accidentally lost one of your leg but you have to keep running maintaining the same speed to get the targetted destination you already set when you were having two legs. I was imbalance for the first couple of months, physically and emotionally, thank God I have the best support system that kept me on track.

I tried a few times to hang out with some friends after office hours, but it felt like my mind wasn't there because I kept thinking of my son at home. Then I already sleepy at ten (maybe because I put Malicca sleep at 9 and most of the times i got slept too). Then I got myself easily lost on the conversation and I would feel awkward even more. So, now I prefer to go straight home after office. Cook dinner or snacks together and watch Disney Junior with my satellite. Living in this digital world, having a chat with my friends are pretty handy through whatsapp, messenger or twitter. I am sure if they are my truly friends (and they really are), they will understand if I cannot join them for brewing coffee.

I live in Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia. To some people, this is the city of dreams. But not for me. Jakarta's air is highly polluted, the traffic is very bad and we don't have any public open space for my son to play. The museums are not really well-maintained and there are so little entertainment except malls. For education, Indonesia doesn't have a good and credible standard. We have so many educational system but there are only few we can trust. To add with, education has being part of capitalism in this country, specially in this city. 

But I don't stop there. I keep trying to give better options for my son, because I know complaining won't bring us anywhere. For me, having children is like a second chance for me. Like being reborn to make a better person, to create a better world for us we live in, through my son. How? Teaching by examples, for sure.   

I still remember the days when I tried to conceive. I still remember the day I knew I was pregnant. I still remember the day when I delivered Malicca. But I hardly remember those sleepless nights having a baby or when he was sick. Now my satellite is five. When a baby was born, I was also reborn as a mother.

Thank you for making me stronger. Happy 5th birthday, son!

Malicca mau lima

Dulu, suka gemes sendiri kalo denger cerita tentang seorang anak yang masih aja nyusahin orang tuanya. Beranggapan bahwa hubungan darah orang tua - anak bisa menjadi sangat netral dan objektif, nggak jarang aku suka berkomentar anak-anak yang menyusahkan orang tua tidak perlu dibela oleh orang tuanya itu sendiri.

Tapi sekarang, aku kena tulahnya. Bukan karena Titan nyusahin, tapi lebih ke essens bahwa yang namanya orang tua memang tidak akan pernah bisa melewati edisi tergila-gila anaknya sendiri. Bagaimanapun, yang namanya orang tua ke anak teteeeeeeeeeup aja deh pastinya ngebelain dan mengagumi (walaupun terkadang dengan cara mereka sendiri yang kita tidak tahu).

Dalam waktu kurang dari 8 jam, Titan akan genap berusia 5 tahun. Oh waw... another milestone nih. Masuk TK besar, masuk tahapan yang katanya anak mulai jarang sakit dan tahapan yang katanya tingkah polahnya bakal nyebelin dan memberontak. Untuk yang pertama dan kedua, mari kita amini ajah. Yang ke tiga? Ah, itu mah tergantung anaknya juga. Ada yang manis ya tetep aja manis, ada yang nakal ya emang mungkin dulunya nakal. Etapi ... ya nggak tau ya, semoga Titan tetap jadi anak manis dan tetap bisa diajak ngobrol.

Enggak terasa, udah lima tahun aja. Dan nampaknya edisi tergila-gila anak sendiri ini masih akan terus berlangsung. Masih akan terus foto-fotoin dia, masih akan terus menulis tentang dia dan celotehnya yang... ampuuuuun deh, perasaan dulu gue umur segitu enggak gitu-gitu amat kalo ngejawab :)

Lima tahun, dan anak itu sudah mengalami banyak hal. Semoga diantara semua itu, dia sungguhlah tahu bahwa bundanya yang nyeleneh ini tidak pernah berhenti berpikir dan berbuat apapun caranya supaya dia bahagia. Supaya dia sehat wal afiat dan bisa mendapatkan pendidikan yang terbaik nantinya.

Amin.

Malicca mau lima

Dulu, suka gemes sendiri kalo denger cerita tentang seorang anak yang masih aja nyusahin orang tuanya. Beranggapan bahwa hubungan darah orang tua - anak bisa menjadi sangat netral dan objektif, nggak jarang aku suka berkomentar anak-anak yang menyusahkan orang tua tidak perlu dibela oleh orang tuanya itu sendiri.

Tapi sekarang, aku kena tulahnya. Bukan karena Titan nyusahin, tapi lebih ke essens bahwa yang namanya orang tua memang tidak akan pernah bisa melewati edisi tergila-gila anaknya sendiri. Bagaimanapun, yang namanya orang tua ke anak teteeeeeeeeeup aja deh pastinya ngebelain dan mengagumi (walaupun terkadang dengan cara mereka sendiri yang kita tidak tahu).

Dalam waktu kurang dari 8 jam, Titan akan genap berusia 5 tahun. Oh waw... another milestone nih. Masuk TK besar, masuk tahapan yang katanya anak mulai jarang sakit dan tahapan yang katanya tingkah polahnya bakal nyebelin dan memberontak. Untuk yang pertama dan kedua, mari kita amini ajah. Yang ke tiga? Ah, itu mah tergantung anaknya juga. Ada yang manis ya tetep aja manis, ada yang nakal ya emang mungkin dulunya nakal. Etapi ... ya nggak tau ya, semoga Titan tetap jadi anak manis dan tetap bisa diajak ngobrol.

Enggak terasa, udah lima tahun aja. Dan nampaknya edisi tergila-gila anak sendiri ini masih akan terus berlangsung. Masih akan terus foto-fotoin dia, masih akan terus menulis tentang dia dan celotehnya yang... ampuuuuun deh, perasaan dulu gue umur segitu enggak gitu-gitu amat kalo ngejawab :)

Lima tahun, dan anak itu sudah mengalami banyak hal. Semoga diantara semua itu, dia sungguhlah tahu bahwa bundanya yang nyeleneh ini tidak pernah berhenti berpikir dan berbuat apapun caranya supaya dia bahagia. Supaya dia sehat wal afiat dan bisa mendapatkan pendidikan yang terbaik nantinya.

Amin.

Make friend with Broccoli

Who doesn't like veggie? High five!

Because I don't like veggie, so is my son.
So lately I tried to inhibit habit of eating veggie to Malicca.
Because I am working, breakfast is the only time we can dine together.
So, eating veggie let us in the morning.

The thing about cooking veggie is, it looks simple but it is hard to cook.
Over-cooked will only ruin the vitamins and its colors.
Thanks to Ibu Kembar who gave me the tips to cook sauted broccoli garlic.
And bigger thanks, because Malicca likes it even more.

The steps are easy.

Boil water and cook broccoli until its color becomes darker and a bit soft.
Dry the broccoli and put them on a dish.

Next, get some vegetable oil or olive oil into the frying pan.
Put chopped garlic and saute.
Put a little bit margarine and salt.
Do not wait until the garlic is brown. Brownish color means over-cooked and it tastes a bit bitter.
Cook it half-done then pour the salty margarine sauce onto the broccoli and top with grated cheese if you like.

Sauted broccoli garlic is now ready to be served.

Let's take a step back

Life should not be that hard. Whether if you are a little kid and doesn’t know what to do or whether you are old and sick, life could have been simpler after all.

Why do people get married in the first place? Why do people have kids in the end? Why do people work for a living, but they don’t have a life? Why do people busy with themselves and forgetting that they are part of their family, a root of who they are and where they are from.

Every family has its own story. Like a unique code that’s entitled on our last name. Unfortunately we only remember the story as opening and ending, leaving the rest as stories of our own.

Why when we reach productive era, we act like there are so many important things to do? As if we are the president who run the country, as if someone is going to die if we skip a day from our office. Why do we always lack of time for our parents as if they will always be young and healthy as ever?

Our love to our family might last forever, but not their physical. 

Far we have gone, today. Let's take a step back for a while, to embrace where we belong. To be home.

Amazing

It is amazing how your brain easily forgets the pain as you find a better replacement.
It is amazing how your heart easily forgives as you find a more exciting things that suddenly appear.

And you would laugh yourself, while saying "I have been through that" and feel glad that you turned out fine nonetheless.

God, you have created such a perfect creature called human. They heal themselves.

What's stopping you?

What’s stopping you from trying harder for the guy you love most? Will you leave him just because?

Is it another girl? Then you will find physical is forgivable. In time.

Is it money? Then you will find, talk is the best security you can have in this life. No better investment than communication with your partner.

Or those little things like putting down the toilet ring for you? Then you will find there are many other big things in life you must face.

So, what’s stopping you from trying harder for someone you love most?

To me, it is when he decided to quit. Just quit. 

Hari ini

Rumah ini luasnya masih sama seperti kemarin, dua hari yang lalu, masih sama seperti pertama kali dibangun. Tidak ada yang bergeser, tidak ada yang mengkisut atau memekar. Tapi entah kenapa, hari ini rasanya seperti rumah ini tiga kali lebih luas. Tiga kali lebih lapang sehingga menyapunya hampir menghabiskan seluruh tenagaku. Entah kenapa, jalinan-jalinan benang pel yang sesungguhnya telah taut menaut tidak bisa segera menyelesaikan mili demi mili lantai ini hingga habislah seluruh tenagaku mengusapnya.

Jari-jariku, tidak habis untuk menghitung berapa jumlah orang yang tinggal di dalamnya. Tapi kenapa nafasku ikut tersengal-sengal mengikuti putaran baling mesin cuci yang menggiling pakaian serasa laundri kelurahan.
 
Lelah memang lebih cepat terasa dan terasa sesak saat kita merasa sendiri. Ya, ... merasa.

Kalau sakit pun, seringkali sebaris pertanyaan "Gimana, sudah baikkan?" bisa menyembuhkan. Karena kita tahu, kita tidak sendiri. Ada seseorang nun jauh di luar sana yang sedang memikirkan keadaan kita.

Hari yang mendung. 

Tentang kita belakangan ini

Pernahlah, sekali atau dua kali mencuri dengar mereka yang sedang berkeluh kesah tentang pekerjaannya. Lain waktu, tentang bosnya. Atau, tentang kebijakan perusahaan dimana mereka bekerja. Atau tentang gaji, lembur, banyak macamlah. Hal ini makin lama makin sering  kesebut. Entah karena memang hal ini menjadi problem semua pegawai tepatnya pekerja di Jakarta, atau memang hal ini sedang berakrab-akrab ria sama ijk.

Tadi pagi misalnya. Aku mencuri dengar dua orang karyawati di lift gedung. Si A lagi bercerita kemarin dia jadi ‘tempat sampah’ pacarnya yang curhat tentang pekerjaannya.

A bilang, lelakinya itu sampai menitikkan air mata (aihhh...) saat bercerita bahwa dia ditegur oleh atasannya karena datang terlambat. Dia bilang, dia jarang sekali terlambat. Kalaupun terlambat paling hanya 3 atau 5 menit dari waktu kerja yang ditentukan (yaitu jam 8). Suatu pagi, dia merasa lapar sekali. Jadi, sebelum masuk dia mampir sebentar ke warung depan kantor untuk sarapan. Begitu masuk, jam sudah menunjukkan pukul 08.15 pagi dan ditegurlah ia oleh sang supervisor. Mutunglah deh. Saat curhat dengan si A itulah akhirnya cowok itu mengutarakan niatnya untuk berhenti bekerja di perusahaan tersebut. Dan dengan alasan ‘ketidakbahagiaan’, si A mengizinkan si cowok untuk resign.

Lain waktu lagi, seorang teman curhat juga tentang etos kerja anak buahnya. Yang mana, sebagian dari mereka tidak memiliki tanggung jawab dengan pekerjaan mereka. Seringkali beralasan sakit atau saudaranya meninggal (mungkin untuk yang ke sekian kalinya si nenek atau kakek atau bibi atau paman meninggal dan dijadikan alasan untuk tidak masuk kantor).  Sayangnya, di kantor temenku itu sistemnya kaya mesin. Tiap orang dalam tim mengerjakan pekerjaan yang beda. Jadi kalau ada yang nggak masuk satu orang aja, terhentilah semua prosesnya. 

Akhirnya, dengan berat hati temanku harus memberikan Surat Peringatan kepada anak itu. Yang mana, justru ditantang balik untuk segera memberikan SP-3 karena sebenarnya dia juga udah nggak betah kerja di perusahaan tersebut. *Kemudian hening ... krik krik krik....*

Oh, well.

Untuk si A yang menitikkan air mata saat curhat sama pacarnya, mungkin niatnya untuk resign bukan karena satu hal tersebut. Pasti ada deh hal lain yang sifatnya akumulatif dan dia udah nggak tahan lagi untuk menghadapi beban-beban itu. Begitu pula halnya dengan si anak yang minta di SP-3. Pasti banyak ketidakpuasan atau inspirasi-inspirasi yang terhambat sampai dia udah sebegitu muaknya bekerja di sana. 

Terus salah siapa, dong? Salah dia? Salah mereka? Salah temen-temennya? 

Di sini bukan nyari siapa yang salah siapa yang bener. Melainkan, mau nambah-nambah pertanyaan aja (Gak bantu! | Emang. I know). Seperti misalnya, apa iya kita sudah sebegitu lemahnya sampai hal-hal kecil dan memuncak yang justru tidak berhubungan dengan pekerjaan, malah sebenarnya jadi sumber masalah dalam kehidupan bekerja?

Pertanyaannya sekarang, apa iya sulit sekali untuk membuat kita merasa cukup dan terpuaskan?

Ada satu pertanyaan yang menghantui aku waktu aku lagi asyik metikin rumput liar di halaman rumah minggu lalu. Konon katanya cari kerja itu susah, tapi kenapa kok nyari pembantu juga minta ampun susah? Apa sebenarnya yang susah itu adalah nyari orang yang mau kerja?

Apa sebenarnya kita sekarang ini  mikirnya mau enaknya aja dan merasa berhak untuk selalu mendapatkan lebih atas apa yang telah kita kerjakan?  Ataukah ego kita ini yang udah tumbuh tambah besar? Tapi ya itu, cuma ego doang aja yang tambah gede, yang laen nggak ikutan -_-

Dulu, orang tua kita bisa betah puluhan tahun kerja di kantoran. Entah itu kantor pemerintahan atau swasta. Bukan berarti kita harus stay di perusahaan yang sama sampe puluhan taun, tapi ... apa iya kita kalah kuat mental dibanding mereka? 

Atau memang kita, penduduk Jakarta, sudah sebegitu stresnya dan permasalahan sudah sebegitu kompleksnya sampe hal-hal kecil aja bisa bikin bête?

Tapi gimana, sebelum ada pilihan musti dikerjain juga, kan? Dan setiap pilihan yang mementingkan diri sendiri itu, pasti harus ada kontribusi kepentingan orang lain yang diabaikan. Jadi, sementara belum ada pilihan, ya sudahlah yah … don’t sweat little things. Otak udah tipis dipake mikir hal-hal kecil yang bikin kesel tapi skill untuk nyaring prioritas justru nggak diupgrade - upgrade. 

Let's just do it, dan kalau bisa, perluas pilihan di tengah jalan. 

Ps:

Kita di sini termasuk aku, and this is a little note for myself as well.

Lelah

saya.
...


saya.
sedang.
lelah.
mendengar.
kata
...







nanti.

She was a butterfly. She flew and soared high, too high she burnt her wings

Butterfly never lives long. But she felt grateful, at least she was once before.

She was not brave. She had to.

She did not want to be strong. She had to.

She expected a hero, but her own shadow left her in the dark.

A faith, was all she got.

“It is hope that make people live” her father said. 
And who are the one you can count on if it is not yourself?

Amongst hard rain and stormy nights, she always believed there would be sunny day. 
If it is not today, it might be tomorrow. 
If it is not tomorrow, it will someday.  

One day, she felt a pain on her back.

They tucked her over and over,
for days and nights she felt the pain of things she could not see.

She decided to take the feeling for granted.
Like it's just another pain, so what.
Like it will go away as she flushed in the morning.
Like it will be forgotten as she would be distracted with other things.
Like other unfinished business in life.
She just let it be.

She thought she was running in circle.
She was wrong. 
That day she knew, the things on her back were the things that would give her another chance
To make a little jump, to somersault in the air, to sing, to have a crash landing in one of those bad days
To live,  basically. 
 

They were fluttering wings. 

Hmm...

Eye Glasses or?

One day when I was teaching him, I drew a picture + the writing underneath (above picture).
Then I asked him: "How do you read this, Malicca?"
Malicca: BeHa
Me: -_-

But then, a few minutes later; he completes my drawing (below picture).

Have a faith

“Some people choose to keep running in circle. Every time a chance comes to break the circle, they respond it slowly as if the universe always runs as they expected it to be. When they missed the chance, they will say, “I did try my best, it is not meant to be mine.”

That was a thought I typed on my Path a few minutes ago. Not long after it was uploaded, my Whatsapp rang. “Was your status for me?” she asked. I said, “No, not at all. It was for all of us.”

Being a passive Twitterist, I noticed people in my timeline are just trashing most of the time. They made a rant about their unhappiness, or curses on twitter or many times, just a one-off buzz on the messenger leaving me a message like “I am bursting into tears now.” Or “I am so not happy.” Or “I want him, only him.” Or "What if this and what if that." – things I thought I would only found in the life of a teenager.

I sometimes wanted to slap them and said “You have been through nothing, bitch. Be strong, there are more unexpected and destructive things might come to you one day. Have you ever lost a kid? Have you ever lost someone you have been living together for quite some times? Have you ever tried to be a single mother? Have you ever lived with a daily basis income? Have you ever lived in 3 hours electrical supply everyday? Have you ever lived in conflicting area? Have you ever heard your son told you that he was hungry but there was nothing left to eat? Have you ever lived on your own in a strange land and you have to create your support system back from the scratch?

Then why do you still brag about traffic you know there will be traffic jam everywhere everyday, your stupid boss, your not-so-into-you-boyfriend/girlfriend, ... but do nothing about it?

Does someone have to be in their lowest point to learn that there are more important things to think of? I hope not. But apparently, experience is the most primitive way for human to learn. Go test your own limit, then. Be playful with your hatreds and hurtful. You are going to be fine, though. If it is not bitter, how can you be stronger? But don't be too long dingle-dangle in that phase. I know the dramatic feeling of being broken hearted, but hey … have a faith in life. Have a faith things will turn out fine. If it is not, it will someday.

This is my guy

Today, is not the first time my son gave me wild flowers that grow in the yard. He did this before, and the feeling of receiving something from your flesh and blood is amazing. Always amazing. He picked the weed flower himself and gave them to me. After that, he would ask me to put them in the little jar of water.

On another day, when we were about to sleep, he softly stroke my forehead. Exactly the spot in the center of my both eyes and told me to sleep. After that, he would kiss me good night and fell to sleep. 

On another lovely day, he would run across the room to me, bringing his drawing. Most of them were sketches of cars. Sometimes he drew the car in front of the house, under the stormy rain, on its way down the volcano, and sometimes he added me in his sketch. He always put me in skirt with red color. He said I am more beautiful if I wear skirt. Then he asked me to twist myself around like a ballerina and so my skirt would bloom like an umbrella. 

On another busy street or malls, he would held my hand as if he would never let go of me. As if he said "This is my girl, don't mess with her."

In a quite night and nobody but just us, I screamed because of a big spider, or more often, a cockroach. . He would come over and told me things were going to be just fine for I got him. Unless it was not a spider, he would get a sandal and kill the bug.

There were times when I got tense because of him. After saying blatant things and the consequence he must take, I would usually left him for a while. He would stare, just stare at me. Suddenly he hugged me and cried. At that time, I knew he was saying sorry with his own way.

There were also some moments when he accidentally hurt me. "Sorry sorry!" and he would kissed my bruise right away.

Oh well, ... guess I am the luckiest girl to have a man like him. I am so very lucky. And I thank those people who taught my son to treat me like a princess, because I know these things will not happen instantly. He would not  act these out of the blue, because kids are good in mimicking and I always grateful if he mimicked good and sweet things.

I love you Malicca, ... I don't know how would my life be without you.

Passion

I did not finish my electone school

I did not finish my violin school

I did not continue my last level of English skill, CAE, with British Council certificate

I haven’t started my sewing project, let alone of finishing it

I did not continue my Bali dance lesson
I did not finish my meal sometimes

There are many other things in life I did not finish them. Despite of all responsible reasons or illogical because' that made me did them, still they are parts that shape me to become the person of who I am today.  

But there is this one thing I love doing. Always doing. Luckily, has been giving me money for my family since twelve years ago. It is the only thing I had never take a course on or took a formal school. I just did and still doing it. 

Writing.

My first poem was about a banana tree and I got loads of laugh when reading it in front of my cousins. The second one was about mother’s day that I gave it to my mom and she did not even take a look at it. The next writings were in the form of a diary and I had been doing it for 12 years. Then as I learned to fall in love, I started to write more poems, most of them are twisted and complex absurd poems. 

I collected those poems and short stories and made a handmade book of my own when I was 21 and joined Bunga Matahari mailing list and published a book together in 2004. I joined advertising and worked as a copywriter and won the best copywriting in my third year in the industry. Now, all of my writing comes in the form of blogs. Hopefully, I will someday publish a book of my own.

So, is it passion? Is passion something that you have been always doing without you even noticing it is your passion? Is passion will soon be ruined once you got into an institution and feel obliged to do it? If it is, then I am one of the luckiest person in the world to do something that I love and I got paid for it. If it is not, then maybe I will not finish it and writing will just be my other way of searching what I really looking for.

I have no idea. I just do, and I love it so far.