There was a time when everything felt passing so fast, except me, so i rush and urge, tried to catch up. Then come the time when everything is still passing fast, but i stop and take my own pace, then everything falls into a perfect rhythm. i can hear the flowers bloom, the sunlight pinches my skin. I am present at every moment.
Mt. Rinjani – Lombok – Indonesia 10-15 July 2015
Eventually, i was there, i did the hike. After i dont know how many “”someday” you ll do it” hope i planted into my mind when i know some other people doing the hike and yet i couldnt afford it, put the thought at far back of my head.
Then i was there to kind of celebrate my self being 37 years old and haven’t gone crazy, with consciousness and emotional balance always in progress of getting better, with the desire to still grow and be better, learning continuously bout compassion. The walk was really long and intense that i couldn’t even give my self a proper quite time to just sit, breathe and join the conversation inside my head which has been really loud and busy. Till in the morning of the 2nd day, by the crater/lake. I managed to synchronize and just being and present, be at peace.
” You are here! We are here!” and i thanked to the Universe for everything. There was nothing more i could say for that day but THANK YOU, Universe!
i decided to wake up early that morning. To get intimate with the lake air, glistening yellow surface mirroring the mountain under the morning sun. I laid down as if i was familiar with the ritual. TOOL played loud next to my left ear. Let them streaming fastly to my brain, while cold air started to grid my skin. I waited for the touch to go deeper and planted points to flick, burst my vein. I waited to dissolve, disintegrate and become the sunlight. For a second, just a second, i was of the serene by that lake in that particular morning.
I ve been away from this blank space for far longer than i should allow. I couldnt make them shut up or stop so i can pull a thread and bind a story. I need flame to melt this stuborn construction of my mind. “Your darkness is mild” she said. I can not end here. I will not end here.