A Pause

From the top of Arjuno facing Mahameru

It has been five months since my latest post. Because I failed my own commitment to post once a week, I felt betrayed. And while claiming that I have been busy always seems like a lame justification, the truth is that it is what it is. I have my hands tied on my self-growth, personal projects, works, and my family and friends. And it appears that I am now lamenting behind my family and friends as an excuse of me missing my writings. How is it to explain myself without sounding so petty?

Enough with the self-pity.

To be quite honest, I don't feel any less content than I did when I used to routinely post on this blog. The fact that I was still able to write in my private journal and convey how I've been feeling lately makes me feel even happier. I wrote, "Today my head was empty, and my brain and body helped me moving to functioning," even when I had nothing to say. But there are always times for everything.

There were times when I was still overcome with despair and grief. Sometimes it was because of something I saw on the street, sky, ground, or in people, or because I remembered my prior wounds, but once I caught it, it immediately subsided. For example, I watched When Marni Was There, Whisper of the Heart, and Ocean Waves in order one day after work, and it caused my eyes to become teary. But that was a good cry. And as a result, I have decided to limit myself from three consecutive Ghibli Studio films. Though it was a form of psychological torment that had the cathartic effect of sealing a gaping hole.

And as usual, time slides swiftly. I've been fortunate to experience important moments. My friends and I biked 1200 kilometres from Bandung to Denpasar in June as part of a fundraiser. Along the process, we set up a crowdfunding campaign for COVID-19-affected street hawkers on bike. Personally, I found the voyage to be really fulfilling. Through this experience, I had the opportunity to interact with exceptional people who lived their lives with a strong sense of gratitude and surrender. They brought me to my knees and reminded me of something I had believed I had long since forgotten: hope. I realize that hope is cultivated and fed through time and adversity; it cannot be purchased. And I appreciate all the help we've received from my loved ones, friends, co-workers, strangers, and even you. And from July to November 2022 my friends and I have been distributing the Rp20 million we collected—thanks to your unending support—to those in need.

With a good friend of mine, I visited Mount Arjuno and Mount Welirang in July and completed a double summit trip in two nights. I've been longing to plant my feet firmly in mountain soils. My lungs had been fantasizing about inhaling the mountain's crisp, chilly air. My body has been aching to shoulder so much weight. I miss experiencing the splendour of being so small and embracing nothingness. I had intended to visit Arjuno and Welirang last year, but Covid-19 had shut down the park where the mountains were located. I rode my bike by the street near the mountains on the way to Denpasar. They were so majestic-looking that I couldn't stop staring at them. I made a promise to myself as I pedaled my bike in a light drizzle that I would return to meet Arjuno and Welirang, but this time I would spend more time connecting intimately with them. I promise that I'll write stand-alone posts about the aforementioned experiences in the entries that are still to come.

I'm nevertheless appreciative that I can still create some moments on the weekends in between my everyday days. I frequently go running with my community, hang out with my close friends, or simply make time for me. I enjoy reading books in parks, going on hikes in the woods, and biking around the town. I also consume a lot of various foods (I have been making a list on enjoyable bakso, burgers, coffeeshops, and or vegan foods in town which feels exciting).

Additionally, I started stepping up my workouts. At least three days a week, I make an effort to cycle to work. I also allocate additional time for daily running and a day in the weekend for swimming. This isn't happening because I'm eager to join a competition or even because I want to reach some sporting goals. I knew that I am not very good at sports (and also stupid in love). All I want is to feel. I believe that participating in sports contemplatively allows me to communicate with both my body and mind. Perhaps that's why, one night when I was soaked to the bone from bike and jogging through the rain, I felt so content. Perhaps this explains why I was blissfully crying one evening as I rode my bike home from an office gathering at Cikole. However, I had less time to finish reading as a result. I've only finished three books in the last nine months. Interestingly, despite the fact that I have stacks of unread or barely touched books, I did not feel horrible about this.

After all, it all inspires a desire to continue living, regardless of how difficult life is, how frequently goodbyes face me, or how severe the disappointment is. Work is simply work on a daily basis. I constantly have to remind myself that I work to live, not the other way around. When I'm down, I keep reminding myself, and I feel so blessed that the universe has constantly delivered me little reminders all around. And I would not get tired of asking you to journey together with me on the path of this life with awareness and gratefulness even if it seems impossible until our time comes.