inspirit

Love is greater than death - this is a message my cousin, Auh, sent me yesterday morning. "Just remember", she wrote, "love is greater than death." And how true she is.

Yesterday marked 4 years since my father, my Bapak, Bapio, Otoo-san, passed away. Ibu and I went to visit his grave, and there were beautiful flowers blooming too! What a change from the past few times we've gone and most of his flowers had been stolen by others to decorate other people's graves. I must say, though, the section where Bapak is buried is perhaps one of the most colourful in the area because of all the flowers you can see on other people's graves...many of which came from his. A trendsetter even though he's gone!

One of the many blessings I continue to be grateful for are the memories I have of Bapak. It is those memories - of little things, daily things - that keep me and Ibu company and remind us that he continues to live on and is never far.

"Just a little bit above eye level," my mother's friend, Dee, told me. Apparently, the other world isn't as far as we thought. In fact, our departed loved ones are really closeby. We just can't see them, she said. Dee is a nun, a reiki practitioner, and one of the most beautiful people I have met. Her inner beauty truly radiates. And to hear her explanation of where our loved ones are, and how they are always watching over us, is comforting. (Though I do hope from time to time they look the other way!)

In other words, the Kismadis are always three. We just can't physically see Bapak anymore. But he's there. Always there.

My mother showed me an interesting quote today...

"A good teacher is someone who will make you learn, even when you don't want to."

I find this quote to be very apt for a recent experience I had during a training we just did. One of our participants questioned why we didn't give out "answers" in our training. But instead, we pushed participants to seek the answers themselves.

One thing I have learned is that learning only happens when one is willing to learn. And by learn, I don't mean "finding the right answer" by asking someone to tell you. But by also looking for those answers from what we already know...from our own life experiences.

Life's strongest lessons are those which we experience, not those that we are "told" are life lessons. It is the "a-ha!" moments that stay with us and show our true intelligence. Not high scores, not "right answers"... but discovery, amazement, and a sense of knowing something you found out on your own.

Come to think of it, my father often answered my questions with a story...one that was pretty open ended, so that I could discover for myself the answer I was looking for.

Life stories...that's where we find our answers...and also, new questions!

Blogged with Flock

I woke up yesterday with a prayer, "Lord...may I be truly honest and mean it when I ask others for forgiveness. More importantly, give me the strength to honestly forgive those who I feel have hurt me."

The reason for this prayer is because I realize how often the phrase "maaf lahir bathin" is merely an empty greeting. We even say it to people we hardly know, or hardly even see...let alone commit mistakes against!

But this year I had to dig deep. I had to find it within myself to really be able to forgive those I feel have wronged me. Even without their asking for forgiveness, I have to be able to let go of my anger and my pain. In the end, as someone wise told me, feeling offended or hurt becomes my own doing...because I allow others to inflict that pain or hurt upon me.

Maybe that's the true essence of Lebaran. Of letting go of that which is negative, painful, hurtful... and embracing the positive, embracing hope, love and joy. By choice, not because of fate.

Love, joy, hope and positive energy is abundantly around us ... but only if we are willing to open our eyes and our hearts to them.

And perhaps that is what is meant by Lebaran being a day of rebirth. If we are able to discover a new way of appreciating this holy day of celebration, then the true meaning of Lebaran does live on.

Our traditions may change, the number of houses we visit may dwindle in numbers as the elder members of our families begin to pass on, the traffic may be getting worse and worse from year to year ... but if we are still able to find new meaning in our hearts of this holy day, then it does become a life changing event. Beginning with me.

Dani has a beautiful picture of Sholat Ied in Malang, which in many ways captures one way of capturing the essence of Lebaran. Check it out on his blog: www.moenggoro.blog. com - what does your heart see?

Blogged with Flock

We first met four years ago, Spunky and I, on the evening of my father's 40th day wake. Actually, he was the one who claimed us. This little ginger tabby kitten, who came running across the street dragging his hind legs and almost getting hit by a car in his haste. I remember running towards him to the middle of the street and stretching out my hand to stop the car that was coming towards him. I picked him up, brought him to my car, put him on my mother's lap and we drove home.

My mother and I were just about to leave for home, after a gathering of close family and friends to pray for and remember my Bapak, my Bapio, my father...who had passed away 40 days before in far away Mexico, while at an international conference. My mother was alone at home at the time, as I was away on an assignment to Thailand. I didn't find out about his passing until almost 8 hours later, when my mother was finally able to get reach of me. I remembered driving him to the airport  when he was to leave for Mexico. I can still see him giving me the thumbs up sign as he turned to wave goodbye as he walked towards the airport building. Learning of his passing was devastating, as we were (and continue to be) very close. My heart still aches when I allow myself to miss him deeply.

Back to Spunky though. I believe that Spunky was sent by God and Bapak to keep me and my mother company. To remind us that yes, life has its bumps and holes, but it's our inner "spunk" that we need to nourish and strengthen and develop...for it is this power that helps us through.

spunk•y : courageous and determined -- this is the definition that the dictionary provides. Indeed, my Spunky is both. We think that he was probably run over by a bicycle when he was a kitten. Amazingly, he fought for his life and continued to bundle along using the strength of his front legs, and pretty much dragging his hind legs behind.

He is also a life-long learner. About 2 months ago, at the age of almost 4 years old, for the first time in his life, he climbed up the staircase to the second floor of our house. A feat that a cat with hardly any movement in his hind legs is an amazing one. He also figured out how to go downstairs by himself. A step at a time, sometimes pausing to catch his breath, but doing it on his own and with a lot of pride!

Spunky now takes to sitting by me when I am working at my desk. He gets the cushoned ergonomic computer chair, while I sit on a wooden one. His favourite time is falling asleep next to me as I am typing away. His quiet moment with me at the end of the day, after the various adventures I am sure he gets himself into.

Spunky is one of my many sources of inspiration. He has taught me that even in our darkest hours, God sends hope and also love. He has taught me that despite pain (and in his case, physical pain) and frustration, there is always a way out. And most of all, he has taught me that unconditional love is the best source of power to keep one going. Be assured that more stories of Spunky will emerge on this blog!

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light , not our darkness, that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
There's nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make and manifest
the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us
it's in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

- Marianne Williamson

The poem above is quoted in part in the movie, Akeelah and the Bee. A beautiful movie about a little girl who manages to find her inner strength and shine, and in shining, she gives hope and encouragement to those who believe in her - even those who doubted her.

The scene in which the Marianne Williamson's poem is read by Akeelah shows the beginning of her relationship with her coach, or learning facilitator. Using questions that challenge Akeelah to not only think about the answers, but more importantly, to think deeply, the coach pushes Akeelah to begin developing a sense of awareness in herself, and of her power.

Thus is the role of the facilitator. To encourage, to prod, to push, to get others to look within themselves for the answers. And if they can't find them within, they will be inspired to look to create them together with others.

Facilitators need to learn how to find that inner power as well. I think that often we make the mistake of making ourselves small, thinking that we need to do so in order to give courage to others. I know I make this mistake.

Shining does not mean arrogance. It means giving your very best so that others are inspired to do the same. So what are you waiting for???  Shine!!!!

Today I witnessed the embodiment of grief. And I was left speechless. A mother who lost her child to what was possibly a brutal death. A woman who is carrying pain in her heart so strong that I could sense it the moment I saw her, and felt it when I held her to give her a hug.

Ibu Wiyati is a woman of great strength and resolve. Originally from Java, she has lived in West Sumba for many years, an inspiration for many social activists in Sumba, especially those fighting for women's rights and gender equality. Her husband, a Sumbanese man, died a few years ago, leaving her with her three children and two grandsons and to continue the work she had dedicated her life to.

From the little I know of Ibu Wiyati, it seems that her life hasn't been easy. Today, as I held her sobbing (yet her tears were spent), she said "what else does He have in mind for me?" Three months ago, her 2nd son disappeared with a friend of his as they were travelling on motorcycle to Waingapu from Waikabubak - a four hour or so drive. Last week, she was asked to identify what is suspected to be his remains. A human being reduced to less than a fourth of what should account for one's skeletal remains.

In my small attempt to give her strength I told her to see her son as she remembers him, full of life. Not the skeletal remains she saw. I can only pray for her to be strong under the weight of her grief, pain and loss. As you read this, please do the same. God bless.