So What’s Your Tragedy?

Tragedy. When we heard this word, the first image that came to mind probably was a scene of a shipwreck in the middle of a vast ocean swallowing a hundred souls alive. Or just a vivid memory of a massive crack on the town’s road after a deadly earthquake. Some might envision a friend’s grave after a car accident. The list could go on and on to describe what a tragedy could mean to some of us.

The meaning of tragedy is subjective and can vary greatly depending on individual experiences, cultural backgrounds, and philosophical beliefs.

Some of us. Well the rest could probably think of something abstract when we hear the word tragedy. One could think of what a tragedy it was that her dad was born in a poor family that he couldn’t get enough education to take him to be a teacher and ended up being a cop instead, because that was what he could afford at that time while everyone knows that being a teacher seems like his truest calling. Another could have thought about the joyful sound of family laughter at the dinner table when they hear that word but instead are face to face with the senseless empty room full of cold air and stillness because that’s what distance does. Probably when a dog was taught about the word tragedy and heard it for the second time, it probably would imagine chasing a moving tail in the corner of the couch that turned out to be its own. Or for instance, we could think about how messed up it is when the roles of power in some organization, a country even, is filled with people who—if not capable—are just not suitable for the responsibility, the impact could be catastrophic and can cause widespread suffering. And by suffer I mean stress inducing, rage boiling, traumatizing kind of suffering. Tragedy for some is when you did all the work but it’s your bosses taking all the credit with all that annual bonus. What a tragic tragedy.

So if what we are imagining and thinking of when hearing it are variously different, what is the true meaning of a tragedy then? 

Is it when something is supposed to happen but it doesn’t? Is it when what you want is not what you get? Is it when something broke you to the very core of your being that even the beauty of a bedazzled skyscraper couldn’t entertain you anymore? Or is it when you have something so unimaginably dreamy you wish to share it to the whole world but couldn’t because then it would ruin it? Is it something that you know  is so true and to share it can change how the system works but then the external factors get in the way that you might never get the chance to tell the tale?

Oh, to find the definition of tragedy is easy these days. In ancient Greece, tragedy was a ritual performance of the downfall of a great man—usually a king or nobleman— brought low because of some sort of fault. In Psychology, tragedy is defined as an event or sequence of events that can occur singly or collectively resulting in pain and suffering that impact us on so many levels (emotional, social, physical, coping, creative and spiritual).  In the writing world, tragedy is defined as a genre that focuses around a noble character who struggles against strong external challenges.

But, oh, how I forget what I really want to tell you about tragedy in the first place as I start writing about all the things swirling in my brain when I start typing the word and got distracted that I write about all sorts of things before I get to this part where I suppose to tell you what I really want say.

Well, to really define tragedy and understand its meaning is to have multiple layers of understanding and acceptance. Some would say one can only understand tragedy from experience. But I wouldn’t wish any of such to occur in anyone’s life. It’s just when I happen to have some experience with tragedy I just know now that it helped me to be the I am today. In my case and I believe a lot of us out here believe the same; that tragedy is this coarse sandpaper that shapes our edges, tuning it into the fine angle for the perfect curve, the straight line, the pretty outline and perfect footing.

 

Oh, I really can’t seem to remember what I want to say in the first place talking all about tragedy and  humbly brag that I’ve earned my wisdom to accept the fact that life is a mix of bliss and tragedy, a perfect combination of ups and down, an artistic scramble of good and bad, a collaboration of strength and weakness. But I do remember one part of it. I remember to put this sentence at the end of this short piece; when you look at it from one side, sure things can seem ugly sometimes, but have you tried another angle? You’re welcome!

The Rage Against Nice: Why It's Time to Get Real About Our Feelings

I have been in constant exhaustion and I believe that a lot of us are feeling just as worn out as 7 hours of sleep is not enough to recharge the knackered body and a quick trip to our favorite destination can't comfort the drained soul anymore. Oh, and talk about how time just never felt so friendly because no matter how much we try and how rushing we are on floating through it, it always feels like there is so much to do on so little time spared. Some people would literally sacrifice their sleep to have a little more time with their loved ones. In my case, I keep daydreaming of how nice it would be if we can choose just 1 day of the week to sleep inside some kind of futuristic pod where we only have to have 2-3 hours of sleep instead of 7 hours each day.

There are 7 days on each week and all four weeks multiplied by the number of months every year. I don't care how many days there are every year, all I know is in one of those 7 days a week, we all have had the bad ones haven't we? Between some of those bad ones, of course there are the worst and the range of how we feel on each of them varies from desperately sad to horrendously mad.

And to add salt to that custom wound, we always betray ourselves by feeling a certain way about some feelings.

Like we would feel guilty if we feel trapped in the life we live in as if we're not grateful for all the blessings. Or we always blame ourselves for not doing anything on some days off just because we want to wind down from everything. We would hate it or be overly self-critical just because we have so much hate and rage on some bad days. The ugly part of it, we would always feel bad whenever we're mad about something that—let's say—is bad.

Let's see how it rolls in my everyday life. But first…

 

A Confession

I've been trying to write more and realizing that it will be just as hard if I really give myself some kind of censorship just because I keep trying to be nice that l have to cut some truth from my writing, which impossible to do because my words are always about the truth, because writing for me is about being honest to myself.

Alright, okay. I was not just trying to be nice (but I do know that I'm a nice one) but also because I feel bad if I write something about particular things. I would always think about people who would get hurt or offended just because what I have to say is probably different from popular opinion, or I would be spiraling about how my audience would perceive me because of what I feel about specific things. All that is what I believe is one of some reasons of why lately | write less.

So here it is, one of those colorful honesty that I've been trying to repress because I keep wanting to sound like a nice person and certainly don't want to hurt some feelings.

But whatever.

 

Some Bad Days Are The Worst

Alright, so anybody out here feeling like an explosive? Or just a meaty sack carrying tons of gunpowder around inside them that a single tiny trigger could really blow you up maybe?

Because I do and lately it's getting intense, especially on some of the bad days. But what do my bad days look like?

Let's say it varies and one of them is when rage fills my body and my blood is boiling that I believe my skin turns red during the time. I breathe hard, like the exhales and the inhales were intentionally audible with the heavy sigh and I'd groan angrily because sometimes it helps me get calmer.

But, ugh, how do I put this nicely, but some people just make me want to throw a tantrum. I did tell a friend once that some people really bring out the worst in each other.

And I guess, some of those applied to me. Or just occasionally triggers some unhealed part of me because they too, unhealed and easily triggered. Like a sack of explosives.

The thing is, I keep telling myself that I want to practice breathing exercises instead of getting drowned in the spiraling thoughts, getting super angry and talking shit and thinking the worst about other people. But most of the time I just can't help but hate meeting people. I hate that their ugly behavior of talking about other people keeps annoying me every time. I hate that being surrounded by people, especially a pool of strangers or a chaotic crowd makes me panic and stressed out. I hate that their laughter and the sound they make while they're eating really makes me want to scream. I told everybody that I love the sound of keyboards clicking but there are places where the sound of somebody typing makes my head so full of anger. And I hate that with all the identity we bring with our existence, some people just can't shake the habitual hatred they mindlessly keep showing.

And also, the one trait that I really hate from humans, is that they can easily let the purest intentions get wrapped and overlooked just to have another promising return that being an opportunist gave. And I just can't stop connecting all the strings and writing all sorts of scenarios in my head that makes me just want to go home and hide under the sheets and forget that I have to attend my job 5 days a week, 9 hours everyday.

Oh, trust me I am not a saint but believe me I have been roaming the earth long enough to know that being called a loner is way better than having to deal with all that. I'm exhausted and keep dreaming about a life in the woods with all the silence but the rustling sound of the trees when they get kissed by the wind.

 

Now This Is Where It Gets Messy

I'm exhausted. There, I said it again. If all of that thing is what we have to deal with, who doesn't? And if exhaustion is the word I've written 5 times now in this one piece alone, I think I need to understand something about it. So here's my 2 cents.

As if having to do all the work, all the routines, all the commutes, all the chores, all the physical activity is not enough to spend our energy with, we tend to add some more work load to ourselves by being our first critics. I mean look at how I described my feelings when some people were typing too loud and it annoyed me. I said I hate feeling that way about it. I used the words "I hate" generously and it naturally came out of my mind right through my fingers. I genuinely hated the way I felt during those angry days. And that's where it's wrong.

Our whole life we've been told that anger is a bad feeling.

We've been told to control our feelings that at some point we have to shove it all down. We've also been told that we're not allowed to hate, to be mad, to be sad, to feel disappointed, and any kind of feelings that are considered "a bad one". It's no one's fault now that it took hours of therapy for us to understand that no feeling is a bad feeling. It's no one's fault that after all this time, after all the effort to heal, to unpack and to restore ourselves, we still find it hard to just feel the feeling instead of blaming ourselves for feeling it.

Now isn't it answering enough to my exhaustion problem that one of the big reasons is this: I let the feelings fold, shoved, stuffed myself and when it feels too much to carry, I blame myself for feeling that way.

Now what?

It is hard to be nice and I hate it when people say being nice is easy. I mean, not saying cruel things to other people when they have nothing to do with you is easy, but to keep on being nice when all they do is make unnecessary exaggerated volumes of laughter in the public space? It's taking all the energy from your body.

And to refrain yourself from yelling at the people who keep interrupting your conversation with a friend just because they want to be part of the talk is what I believe they call energy draining. And so be it.

It's okay to feel angry when those people make you feel uncomfortable at work because of their loud laughter.

It's okay if you hate your neighbor for building a literal cow barn next to your back porch and send the smell to your house all day long. It's okay to pull ourselves away from an interaction because we just can't stand the dominant talker with main character syndrome anymore.

It's okay to feel disgusted by a stupid argument someone's pushing on you.

Be angry, be mad, be disgusted, feel the hate. Feel all that feeling and never question why you feel it. My therapist said that it's not about feeling better, it's about getting better at feeling.

 

RIAK-RIAK MESIN TENUN

Dua atau tiga kali dalam setahun, aroma belerang yang mengendap di dasar danau Maninjau menguar. Jutaan ikan yang dibesarkan dalam karamba oleh ratusan pengusaha ikan nila akan mati dalam satu atau dua minggu. Sudah menjadi kebiasaan bagi pemilik karamba untuk menjadikan danau sebagai tempat pembuangan bangkai ikan-ikan gagal panen mereka. Bercampurlah aroma belerang, ikan nila pucat yang menggembung, dan segala hal membusuk yang dibuang ke tengah danau ini. Familiar bagi orang-orang yang memilih untuk tetap menghuni rumah peninggalan leluhur mereka di pinggir danau. Mengganggu bagi orang-orang yang bertahan hidup was-was berdampingan dengan lereng bukit-bukit yang terbiasa longsor. 

Rani, dibandingkan dengan siapapun percaya bahwa hidungnya lebih akrab dengan aroma belerang dan bangkai ikan yang menepi itu. Sambil tetap menikmati teh racikannya di beranda belakang setiap pagi dan menjelang maghrib, Rani tidak peduli jika ada ratusan orang yang nyaris muntah menghirup aroma musiman di sekeliling danau Maninjau itu. Baginya, bau busuk ini hanya identitas di kampung halaman tempat ibunya lahir, tumbuh, menjalani kehidupan dan menua sebelum kembali menjadi tanah.

Rani hidup di rumah kayu bersama saudaranya. Rumah berumur seratus tahun dengan beranda yang setengahnya menjorok ke arah danau. Rani punya kebiasaan menghabiskan tiga puluh menit setiap pagi dan sore untuk menikmati teh sambil merapikan benang-benang tenunan dan menghitung jumlah karamba yang terlihat dari berandanya. 

Rani tidak terlalu suka dengan jumlah karamba yang mengapung di permukaan danau Maninjau ini. Mungkin satu-satunya keturunan Angku Laweh, kakeknya, salah satu dari pelopor budidaya ikan nila dalam jala apung yang tidak ikut serta memanfaatkan danau untuk mencari nafkah. Karenanya, Rani sering menjadi bahan olok-olok orang kampung karena mengasingkan diri dari kegiatan ekonomi nomor satu di sekitar danau Maninjau itu. Rani sering dicibir oleh tetangga dan sepupu-sepupunya karena lebih memilih untuk hidup pas-pasan dengan penghasilan kecil yang didapatkan dari menjual songket.

Songket karya Rani memiliki corak unik yang penuh dengan pola-pola yang bercerita. Tidak ada orang di kampungnya yang terlalu paham pekerjaan Rani. Bagi mereka Rani hanya tukang tenun songket yang hidup dari santunan dua kakak pengusaha karambanya.

Sore ini, seperti biasa Rani duduk di beranda. Menghirup teh sambil menyusun benang dan memilih warna yang akan dipakainya untuk songket selanjutnya dan sesekali memandang jauh ke seberang danau memperhatikan sisa matahari bersembunyi di balik bukit. Namun riak danau petang ini terasa berbeda. Suara rangkulan air yang menepuk ujung tangga beranda terdengar lebih pelan namun dalam. Terasa dekat tapi seolah jauh. Rani beranjak dari kursi rotannya dan mendekati tangga, memperhatikan permukaan air yang terlihat semakin tenang seiring dengan silau petang yang semakin hilang dan redup. Perlahan semua suara menjadi seirama dan gumaman halus bersiul dari arah danau. 

Rani terkesiap. Sambil memejamkan mata Rani kembali mendekat ke arah danau dan duduk di ujung tangga. Suara merdu itu kembali mendengung. Mengalun dari kedalaman danau. Menggetarkan ujung-ujung rambut halus di kulit Rani dan membuat hembusan angin terasa ratusan kali lebih dingin. Terhipnotis. Rani semakin membenamkan kakinya ke dalam air dan melangkah turun ke anak tangga yang lebih rendah. Alunan suara dari jauh itu semakin berirama. Memanggil. Seketika adzan magrib berkumandang. Rani tersentak membuka mata dan meninggalkan beranda. Menutup pintu terburu-buru.

Di dalam kamar, setelah mengganti pakaian yang basah karena berendam di danau dan menunaikan sholat maghrib, Rani duduk bersandar di ujung kasur. Memandang keluar lewat celah yang disisakan jendela. Mengingat suara halus yang membuat Rani seolah ingin menyelam jauh ke dasar danau tadi. Baru sekali dalam hidupnya mendengar suara seperti itu. Dan hanya dari film fantasi soal makhluk lain di perairan Rani pernah mendengar suara yang serupa. Tapi apa mungkin di danau Maninjau ini ada makhluk yang selama ini diceritakan sebagai sosok khayalan itu. 

Rasa penasaran Rani lebih kuat dibandingkan rasa takutnya. Tanpa peduli langit sudah gelap dan danau semakin tenang, Rani bergerak keluar kembali ke beranda. Dengan langkah pelan Rani mendekati ujung tangga. Matanya menangkap selembar kain terhampar. Mengapung di dekat tangga. Rani mendekat dan mengambil kain basah yang memiliki motif dan warna unik itu. Songket tua berisikan corak abstrak membentuk sosok manusia, danau, dan manusia setengah ikan. Rani kembali tersentak. Namun tetap memegang erat kain di tangannya. Suara merdu yang didengarnya petang tadi kembali mengalun dari arah danau. Buru-buru Rani kembali masuk dan meninggalkan beranda dengan bulu kuduk berdiri.

Rani menyalakan keran air dan membilas kain basah yang dibawanya dari beranda. Membuat luntur air danau penuh bau amis dan membuat warna di kain itu semakin terlihat jelas. Semakin Rani memperhatikan motif di songket itu semakin matanya terasa panas sebelum akhirnya meneteskan butiran air dari sudut matanya. Rani menangis menyadari bahwa corak di atas kain itu ternyata bercerita tentang seorang manusia yang menenggelamkan dirinya ke danau untuk dapat bersama dengan manusia setengah ikan yang hidup di dasar danau. Hanya saja air mata Rani bukan tentang kisah cinta antara dua makhluk berbeda alam itu. Rani menangis mengingat alunan yang didengarnya yang membuat Rani merasa bahwa kisah cinta yang dilihatnya di atas kain songket ini bukan cerita fiksi yang sering dilihatnya di film-film atau cerita yang bisa dibacanya dari buku-buku. Rani tiba-tiba merasakan duka yang teramat dalam mengingat danau yang menjadi sumber kehidupan ribuan manusia yang hidup di kampungnya ini, perlahan mati. Seakan menenggelamkan diri ke dasar air—yang dilakukan sosok dalam corak songket itu—orang-orang memanfaatkan danau terlalu berlebihan adalah tindakan bunuh diri yang membuat kisah cinta antara manusia dan alam adalah cerita cinta antara dua makhluk yang berbeda alam. Seolah luntur, ketakutan Rani hilang. Rani bangkit dan kembali membuka pintu beranda.

Rani berdiri di ujung tangga membiarkan angin malam menampar wajahnya. Berharap kembali mendengarkan nyanyian dari danau Maninjau yang begitu ia cinta. Hening. Hanya bunyi air yang merangkak perlahan menepuk ujung beranda. Rani menghela nafas panjang, menghirup semua aroma yang bisa terhirup dari angin malam dan permukaan danau Maninjau yang semakin kotor.

Untaian benang-benang yang ditenun Rani dalam songketnya selama ini ternyata adalah wujud kepasrahan Rani terhadap pencemaran danau Maninjau. Tanpa merasa perlu untuk memberikan kritik, berusaha sekecil apapun untuk membantu danau Maninjau memiliki kembali keasrian purbanya, Rani memilih untuk menjadi pengrajin songket sebagai bentuk persembunyian dari dorongan apatis di dalam jiwanya terhadap perubahan alam dan perilaku manusia. 

Semakin Rani memandang permukaan danau, semakin ia terhanyut dalam corak riak yang menepi. Semakin Rani tenggelam dalam pikirannya, semakin Rani menyadari bahwa danau Maninjau telah memanggilnya. Lolongan merdu yang didengar Rani itu adalah tangisan pilu permintaan tolong oleh peninggalan fenomena alam yang sekarat. Hamparan lukisan abstrak yang tergambar dalam songket yang ia temukan malam ini adalah sajak penuh metafora yang mengajarkan Rani bahwa mencintai saja tidak cukup, dengan segala perasaan dan emosi yang dirasakannya menjadi manusia yang hidup di pinggir danau Maninjau dan menyaksikan keindahan alam ini berubah menjadi pembuangan kotor atas kerakusan manusia, Rani harus melakukan sesuatu.

Seperti sosok manusia yang menenggelamkan dirinya ke dasar danau untuk dapat bersama dengan manusia setengah ikan di dalam corak songket itu, Rani merasakan bersama butiran air yang meleleh dari sudut matanya, bahwa dirinya mungkin ditakdirkan untuk menjadi sosok manusia yang menceburkan diri ke air danau untuk hal yang sama: cinta. 

Untuk nyanyian yang terdengar oleh Rani malam ini, untuk sebuah tangisan sakral yang datang dari dasar danau, untuk lolongan dari alam yang menyerah atas keserakahan manusia mengeruk keuntungan tanpa peduli dengan makhluk lain yang bergantung pada danau ini, Rani bersumpah akan melakukan apapun yang bisa ia perbuat untuk mengembalikan keindahan danau Maninjau dan berhenti tenggelam dalam keadaan pasrah dan bersembunyi dari realita. Dengan membuat songket Rani akan bercerita soal danau Maninjau untuk memperjuangkan perhatian dari tangan-tangan dan kuasa yang lebih berpengaruh untuk memperbaiki kelestarian danau tempat kelahirannya.

Rani memejamkan mata. Sayup kembali terdengar dengungan merdu dari tengah danau mengiringi helaan nafas cita-cita yang mulai terpancar dalam jiwa Rani. Rani ingin membuat danau Maninjau berganti wajah, membuatnya kembali terlihat membiru menuju pemulihan. Rani ingin menyembuhkan danau yang sekarat ini dan aroma belerang yang sedang identik dengan kerusakan ini dapat dengan ajaib berubah menjadi simbol ketahanan.

Rani terus menyusun rencana dalam kepalanya, membayangkan setiap songket yang akan dibuatnya untuk menceritakan kisah penebusan dan komitmen. la ingin menjadi suara bagi danau Maninjau. Sambil menghirup aroma angin yang membawa bau amis, imajinasi Rani menarasikan danau Maninjau yang bebas dari belenggu kelalaian dan pengabaian, kembali bergema dengan melodi, alunan nyanyian dari dasar danau—kali ini, bukan kesedihan dan duka, melainkan harapan. Ikrar dan tekad Rani di malam yang tak terlupakan itu memicu perubahan dalam dirinya, menuliskan cerita dan kisah cinta baru antara manusia dan alam.

Dalam kain-kain waktu, songket-songket Rani akan menjadi benang-benang yang menghubungkan masa lalu, kini, dan masa depan, menjalin cerita ketahanan dan ikatan abadi antara manusia dan alam. Di mata Rani, Danau yang memudar dalam warna keputus-asa-an ini berkilau dengan pantulan biru langit di atas permukaannya yang tampak asri. 

 

Embracing Life's Beautiful Chaos: Why It's About Growing Stronger, Not Just Getting Easier

Hola, fellow adventurers! Life has a funny way of throwing us curveballs, right? Lately, I've been in a writing slump, struggling to find that creative spark. But guess what? Something incredible happened—one fine morning, a force deep within me urged me to write again. Little did I know that this unexpected push would lead me on a journey of self-reflection and discovery. So, grab your virtual backpacks, and let's explore the real deal behind personal growth in this crazy thing called life.

Breaking Free from Illusions:

For the past half of 2023, I found myself unable to unleash my words in their full glory. Sure, I journaled and jotted down some poetic musings here and there, but it felt like something was holding me back. Maybe it was the pressures of adulting, or perhaps a lack of time due to my demanding full-time gig. But guess what? It's time to kick those creative barriers to the curb!

Navigating Life's Mysterious Maze:

As a kick-ass 30-year-old with a 9-to-5 grind and a love-hate relationship with my paycheck, I've asked myself some serious questions. Has life gotten easier since my wild 20s? What if my younger self chose a different path? Do I even learn anything from this wild ride on planet Earth? These queries might seem intense, especially because it’s 2023 and 40 is the new 17? But guess what? We're about to flip the script.

Embracing Life's Ups, Downs, and Everything In Between:

I once wrote a poem about “The Walk”. 

           This walk ain’t got easier
          The climb still took my breath
          The rocks still hit my knee
         The heavy rain still push me to stop and find a roof

 

Now picture this: Life's journey is a thrilling rollercoaster ride, complete with adrenaline-pumping twists and heart-stopping drops. It's not a linear path where everything magically becomes a breeze. No, my friends, it's a wild whirlwind of challenges, growth opportunities, and some pretty awe-inspiring triumphs.

Unleashing Our Inner Warriors:

Okay, let's get real here. You know those moments when you thought you couldn't handle another curveball, but you totally crushed it? Well, that's where the magic happens. Life's challenges don't magically disappear as we blow out more candles on our birthday cakes. Instead, we become warriors—strong, resilient, and ready to conquer anything that comes our way.


Life isn't about waiting for an effortless existence;

Let's drop the facade and embrace the chaos! Life isn't about waiting for an effortless existence; it's about fearlessly diving into the unknown. Sure, there are ups, downs, and moments that test our mettle, but we are the ones who determine our destinies. With every hurdle we leap, we grow wiser, bolder, and more compassionate.

In a world that often peddles quick fixes and easy solutions, we choose to stand tall. Let's face life's challenges head-on, knowing that the journey is far from linear. We'll navigate the twists, turns, and detours, transforming into the fierce individuals we were always meant to be.

So hold on tight! Life's beautiful chaos awaits, ready to shape us into versions of ourselves we never thought possible. Remember, it's not just about getting easier—it's about growing stronger, finding our passions, and conquering the world one adventure at a time.

Baking Poetry

You love cooking

As much as I love writing

Baking is your poetry

Your Whisk dance like a pen

Your tasting palate

Is where you keep the metaphor

It’s your journal

I would say

 

I only know the oven

As your one true friend

She never betrayed your expectation

The kitchen is your library

The ocean of imaginations

It warps time for you

As magical as writing table

Does to mine

 

I published my work

You sell yours

I did it all for happiness

But I don’t know about you

 

Is standing all day for one cake

Are the things that heal you?

Or is it because you have to?

Either way

You and all that

Is a poetic dedication after all

 

And that’s just one

Out of gazillion reasons

For how huge the measure

Of how much

I adore you, Ma!

 

(November, 10th 2022)

 

Can You Call This A Guide? That Depends

Whenever people would ask if  I like the smell of the  ocean or the aroma of the ground after hours of heavy rain, my answer would be “That depends”. I can like the smell of the ocean if the place where I’m standing is not close enough to where the fishers put their fishing tools or catch, because I just can’t stand the smell of saltwater fish. And I can like the aroma of the ground after hours of heavy rain if I were at some place where there’s grass and lots of tall trees. 

It all works the same when people ask if I like being locked down for the past 2 years without being able to travel. Hell, even for work, we’re told to work from home. Do I like how it went the past 2 years? That depends!

So unfortunately after all this time, I got my turn to experience being Covid positive. I thought it was just normal fever or some kind of dengue fever symptoms. It wasn’t such a huge shock to me to be honest because lots of my colleagues were infected. Lots of people in my apartment building were also infected. It was only a matter of time until my “new normal” hygiene practice was no longer powerful enough to protect me. 

 So there I was, serving my 7 days self-quarantine at home suffering from dry cough, nasal congestion and other symptoms. The good thing was, I got to rest all day all night binge watching  my new favorite series and fell asleep between each episode. The time I wouldn’t really get if it weren’t for being tested positive. 

During that time, I got all the space I needed to think, to question everything that came to my mind. Since Covid isn’t really a hot topic anymore, before I got my turn, I didn’t think about the pandemic much. Not until now. All this time, it got me thinking about what I have achieved or learned after all this time.

I’ve taught myself to practice the belief that everything should always be seen from different angles. It’s always working for me to accept certain hard and complicated situations. Sometimes, this method can cheer me up on my worst days. The other time, it also helps me to see the bigger picture about anything that has been the center of my attention. 

And that is one of the main reasons why my answer about the last horror 2 and half  years would vary, it depends on what angle you want me to showcase the answer. But what I do like the most about it, is the pandemic gave me enough time to grow. And not everyone has the same privilege. But I chose to make it so for me. 

We survived more than 2 years of horrible time to live and breathe. It’s the pandemic. The one word I’ve never expected to be so familiar with. I don’t even know how to differentiate it from endemic back then. But these past 2 years—well I’m speaking for myself—we’ve been stuck, locked in one place while there’s this contagious disease spreading to every place on earth. But I’m not going to keep talking about it (I’ve written one about it here). I just want to share my story.

 

I believe I'm not the only one who chose to use the last couple of years for learning and keep growing. It’s like time has finally felt like it’s slowing down for us to catch up on some important goals we have in mind but never really had time to make it happen. It seems like time has stretched itself so thin that we finally experienced the feeling of having a weekend for so long. Remember that feeling from 2 years ago? 

Anyway, feeling lucky and blessed, I’m so grateful that I still get to work during that time, I still have a job. Some people don’t. But again, I chose to learn and grow. So besides working from home back the, I got to spent the extra time as the outcome from not having to commute everyday for doing lots of useful activities.

I can just binge watch lots of TV shows and movies and take the time to jot down some valuable and meaningful lines. I watched tons of videos about Japanese chef’s knife skills and learned how to cut onions perfectly. I keep writing and finishing one manuscript for another novel. I kept practicing and finally can proudly answer “Damn right I can” whenever people ask if I can swim. I read piles of books and learnt a lot about things I never really put enough attention to. 

A blessing in disguise is what it is for me to describe the past 2 years. I mean, outside of myself, a lot of new businesses were born out of this time. People are really using the last 2 years as a moment to change the phase, to slide the direction. And I take that fact, as another moment of growing.

So if people can have and make it, growing isn’t a thing you can’t afford. You just have to choose to.  Because this time, we can see and learnt that time, chances, and some other things are just rare enough to buy even if you have a shitload of money. No. Sometimes, money is just not enough.