All human wisdom is summed up in these two words, --wait and hope. (The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas)

A few weeks ago, I visited Cockatoo Island with The UNSW’s Postgraduate Council. This island is a UNESCO World Heritage Site formerly operated as a convict penal establishment. On this trip, the participants walked around the historically significant place accompanied by a tour guide. After a short ferry ride from Barangaroo Wharf, we were welcomed by light rain on the site.

While waiting for the tour guide to arrive, the group had lunch together in a coastal restaurant. After finishing my food, I glanced at my watch checking whether it was already prayer time. I approached the trip leader to get her permission to excuse myself for a while.

“Is it okay if I pray for approximately 10 minutes?” I softly spoke beside her.

“Of course.” she put down the pizza in her hand. “Take as much time as you need. We’ll wait.” she smiled.

I immediately thanked her and then went to pray. While walking to the beach to perform ablution, I suddenly felt a strangely vivid feeling. What she said struck a chord in me. Take as much time as you need--how I wish I could tell myself this very sentence every day. Therefore, when someone said those words to me, I got a tad emotional--I wish I was in my room so I can sob. In this convict site, I realized I myself was a convict of my own self-reproach. I internally spoke “dear self who often blames herself for walking too slowly and taking too much time to reach 'places', take as much time as you need.” while patting my shoulder. I very much deserved it after years of self-blaming.  

One of the most relatable quotes for me is Bolin Shijiang’s “The world is so big and I walk slowly. What if I never find what I am looking for?”. Even since I was a child, I noticed that I seemed to "walk" relatively slower than most people. The realization got more intense as now I am pursuing a master’s degree at this age. Almost everyone in my classes was in their early twenties yet shined brightly as if they have had 10 years of work experience. Sometimes it discouraged me that I couldn’t even manage my academic life properly while those youngsters could. It reminded me of many things that come relatively later to me compared to the others. The list is extensive I wouldn’t even try to mention the content. I remember how I grew up as someone who appeared confident outside but timid inside. Truthfully, my constant failure to keep up with the “regular” timeline contributed to turning me into someone who was easily frightened and lacked confidence. 

In a world where people in the fast lane are more appreciated, I confusedly walked with a low velocity. I was drowned in a society where the deadline is tight, the expectation is high, the pace is hurried, and the competition is tough. Therefore, I was forced to rush and be impatient. I felt despair when I haven’t gotten/achieved something while everyone around me has already enjoyed it. It was so discouraging to still wait for my turn to get a piece of cake when everyone has moved on with a bigger slice. I'm worried that I don’t have time to wait anymore--my heart murmured when I was extremely weary. On many occasions, I stared blankly and thought that probably what I wait for would never come. I've already missed the train and there is no other train afterward, or even there is no train for me in the first place--my inner voice convinced me--therefore I am stuck in the same place even though a long period of time has gone by. 

However, what she said that day straighten up my slumped shoulders. The knowledge that I can take all the time I need brings light to my dim heart. I might be left behind in everything based on society’s standards but I have the right to take as much time as I need. It’s totally okay to walk slowly or even intentionally slow down my pace when I need it. No matter how much time I need, I can wait. Even with the broken hope, I am allowed to wait. No matter how long shall I wait, or how slow my pace is, it is always okay.

Love,

iim

----------

P.S.:

1. When I am writing this post, one of my lecturers sent an email to the students regarding the group creation and his closing sentence was “Please do NOT feel bad if you aren’t yet in a group-- I was picked last throughout my life and I (just about) did ok in the long run! 😊”. God knew I needed to hear additional encouragement. Even as someone who was already a part of a group since the first week, this uplifting message is powerful. Tears ran down my face as I know how it feels to be the last. Never underestimate the power of kind and encouraging words. You never know that somewhere, someone really needs to hear that. Thank you, Prof! I adore your kindness from the first time I attended the class.

2. Have you ever read Alexandre Dumas's "The Count of Monte Cristo"? The novel suddenly popped up in my mind when I wanted to write about convicts. Or have you ever read Bolin Shijiang's "Entrust the Rest of My Life to You"? :)

Dear hope, the Sydney I wrote about to you today is drizzling--the light kind I would love to face unshielded although it’s frosty. But dear hope, I know one day the mizzle would turn warmer because of your presence.

Two days ago, Mbak Lia (Edmalia Rohmani) visited this city and agreed that we would meet at Circular Quay. The weather prediction stated that there would be rain all day yet our night meeting happened under no umbrella. We knew each other in the first place since we both loved literature thus no wonder poetic words were uttered while strolling down the wet paving blocks towards the Opera House.  

“Imagine walking along this path with the loved one.” Her statement turned the literature mode on in me. “Under the rain, with such a view.”, she added while patting my shoulder as if she knew I have been waiting for that “quietly strolling beautiful place with someone” moment. The dream moment I have forgotten for a while due to recent hectic days where my heart felt like in a high-speed blender.

I looked far across the beach, the Harbour Bridge was sparkling beautifully. The cars on the bridge were moving in slow motion as if it was a scene from a romantic movie where the character is surrounded by an air of melancholy. Imagine spending such a lovely night just walking serenely side to side with someone so dear to the heart. When I turned my head a bit, the Opera House was radiantly glowing. What a poem-worth situation it was. Flowery lines kept popping out in my brain as the romantic view of two Sydney landmarks shined in front of my eyes. There is no exaggeration in saying that this particular night in Sydney has inspired me to stay optimistic, especially regarding the old hopes.

As Mbak Lia repeatedly mentioned how grateful she was to be here, I couldn’t help praying that one day, I would have an opportunity to repeat the amble with a loved one. I smiled at the tender waves sound of the beach alongside the pathway. I hoped my future man could hear this too from wherever he is now. I felt the 12°C gentle wind blow as the wishes were raised to the sky. The city was cold and I can feel my freezing hands touching my face. Aamiin, I said silently.  

I want to fall in love with someone, one of my very wishes that night. The kind of love that puts my heart at ease. A feeling that resembles home for my unsettled mind and heart. Love that it reminds me of how beautiful Allah’s plan is. Love that even by remembering his smile, my heart feels warm. I wished in love to feel that effortless and lightweight.

I can portray him as a solemn and thoughtful old soul. A laid-back and grounded introverted man with whom, silence is comfortable. Someone whose eyes spark soft light like a ray of morning sunshine. Someone that walking through his mind offers me a leisure walk in a sunflower garden. Someone I’d love to have a deep conversation with for hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, lifetime and rarely get bored as I keep uncovering a new depth of his mind. On top of everything, someone that makes me remember Allah more, therefore, paradise feels relatively closer.

As Sydney itself is a magic that came true--a long-time wish turned into a reality, I hope these particular wishes I whispered in the “magical land” would come true too.

Each city has its own color and sentiment. For me, Sydney is the symbol of hope. I am hopeful that one day, I’ll get an opportunity to meander this scenery at night, while rain is lightly pouring, and his calm smile raises the temperature. I believe in it just as I believe in all the previous dreams I wrote in my diary. No matter how silly it sounds when I ask for it from Allah, I fully recognized the fact that He carefully listens.

God listens to our prayers, always. Indeed. 

Love, 

iim

Fate is like invisible cards that are distributed to us.... 

When I was a kid, besides several traditional games, I sometimes played cards with my playmates. (I hope I know the name but am still clueless even after trying to search it on Google. Hihi. Also, don’t get it wrong. No money, bet, or punishment was involved. It was purely a game for fun.)

Since I don’t know what it’s called, I’ll explain the rule so you can imagine it. (Someone who knows the name please let me know. Hehe). The cards are shuffled then 5 up to 8 of them are given out equally to each player, leaving the undistributed ones as a deck. Following right after, the paper on the top of the deck is revealed. Each player has to put a card which matches that particular card’s suit. Subsequently, the one with the highest card decides the suit for the next round. If a player doesn’t have a similar suit to the one which is being presented, that person needs to take the cards in the deck until he/she finds it. The one who finishes their cards first wins and the last one to do it loses the game.

When I was a child, never I had any thoughts, expectations, or anticipation about the cards being shuffled. It was just a game so whatever I got, I would still be excited about it (only slightly was disengaged when I got low cards. Nevertheless I enjoyed it). Now if I have to play it again, maybe I will wonder which cards would be played by me and what wouldn’t be in my hands. I wonder if the cards would vary significantly for each player and there is no favorite card in mine. I am also curious if favorable cards are handed to me instead. Moreover, what if I got no spade or diamond or heart or clover among them?

Now when I think about it, it resembles life in many ways. Forrest Gump (1994) has popularized “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get.” and for me, instead of a box of chocolates, I would like to put the cards as a metaphor. The major difference is that our cards are shown before we begin the game, thus planning is greatly possible. On contrary, the cards are unveiled gradually one by one in life. Furthermore, compared to the cards in the game in which we know the precise meaning, in life sometimes we are oblivious of the denotation even after it is disclosed.

Fate is like the cards that are being distributed to us. We equally get a life yet the cards vary. We simply don’t know what cards would be handed to and played by us. We can’t withdraw from the game just because we think the cards aren’t on our side. We also can’t automatically win just because we have the cards that are beneficial for us. When interacting with other players, we realize that it’s not just ours that matters but also other people’s cards. And above everything, some things are out of our control like the suit that would be uncovered by the player with the highest card. Nevertheless, we still follow the game and try to gain control over it. Life also acts in that sense. Several things are within our control while the others are beyond it. Still, there is a space where we are in the driving seat.

If I may add one more lesson I learned from the card game is that everyone has a different set of cards. Consequently, the way we play the game would be different--our strategies are personalized and our stories are unique. Thus, there is no point in comparing our life with others. 

However, what resonates the most with me recently is, that in the game, we can always put an effort to find the card we don’t have. We could always attempt to search for the missing piece in life. It might take a long time. It might make us unable to finish the game early, but there is always a probability of winning or at least not being the ultimate defeated.

Presently, when I have to take a longer route than the normal one, I will remind myself of how often I didn’t lose the game even when I didn’t have a certain suit in my cards then needed to take a lot of them from the deck. While finishing all the cards cost me ages and I might be left behind anyone who can spend theirs earlier, I had the courage, patience, and confidence to continue the game. Rarely did I lose back then when I was a kid and I believe that I would not lose too in life.

Because until the game is finished, I never knew how it would be ended. So do with life, I want to have the same courage about my cards. I want to trust my journey like that little girl back then who has confidence in the cards in her hands. Win or lose, she still smiled genuinely and continue the game. In life, I want to face "the cards" with a similar frame of mind.  Would you too?

Love, 

iim

---------

Courage, patience, and confidence—how I wish I could have those words plastered all over the place so I will always remember them. 

----------

image credit: istockphoto.com via mentalfloss.com

"I feel quite lost inside myself, like I'm looking for my train tracks for my life." - Sabrina Ward Harrison

Hello, everyone. How are your days? Mine is mainly cold (homonym intended). As someone who was accustomed to Jakarta’s heat for years, Sydney’s low temperature is already challenging from the very beginning. I shouldn’t walk around dressed as if it is the early winter when people barely wear jackets but just let me. Hehe.

When I posted my previous writing, some people suggested I write down my experience navigating life as a student in Sydney. Here I am starting my #OzDiaries (Oz is another way of spelling "Aus", which is an abbreviation of "Australia") while planning to post them regularly *I wish. I hope I can share the snapshots of a mere student’s life in a big EXPENSIVE city *yeah wrote the highlight in capital letters! Hihi. Promise you they are nothing sort of bragging but more like the lessons I learn or the inner feeling unspoken. So shall we start now?

When I conveyed that I would pursue my master’s degree in Sydney, my mom asked me whether I am not tired of constantly studying and struggling. After all, women, my age should start to have a comfortable life, right? It was not that she didn’t approve of the idea. From time to time, she checked on me to make sure that I am happy with the choices I make. Truth is, that happened because she acknowledged my habit of recklessly jumping out of my comfort zone and then quietly struggling by myself. Occasionally she mentioned that my health and happiness are so much more important than the so-called growth since she was worried that I did everything out of the desire to outgrow myself. While the betterment I aimed for is due to my wish to contribute better to society, she never forgot to emphasize the importance of enjoying life.

(I bet she is actually struggling to be a mother of someone who likes to do difficult things when actually deep down is a coward.)

I told her that I was not just ready but also excited to embrace the adventure. So she smiled and said that I should take care of myself because there would be none to lean on, to accompany. She also mentioned that I should be responsible for the privilege I got: be a good student and come back as a better me. I nodded while holding back tears because I should contain the emotion as always. All by myself, in a new city, I know my train would be heading to a station of uncomfortableness. Yet there I was holding the ticket tightly.

What happened later were the things that warmed my heart. I accepted a lot of help both from the people I knew and I didn't. Someone offered me her phone when I said that there was no wifi outside the airport building, a Ph.D. student at my university DM-ed me and took care of me whenever I am on campus, an old man approached me who was standing in front of the city map asking whether he could provide me assistance, some people greeted me “assalamualaikum” when I walked on the road with a tired face after classes, the UNSW Muslim community members who embraced me warmly, and many more that I couldn't mention one by one--they didn’t know that they came right exactly the moment I needed morale-booster.

At one moment, a woman on the light rail offered me the seat beside her. I couldn’t help saying “I am new here and the people are so kind. Thank you.” which was replied with a big smile on her face. We talked about several things and when the announcement said that shortly we would arrive at The UNSW station, I prepared myself to stand up. She poked me and handed me a piece of paper money that was $50. Overwhelmed by the surprising act, I said I can’t receive that. Her kindness was already an uplifting chunk of my day. However, she insisted while saying “if you want to repay for that, please pray for my husband. He has been in hospital for months.”

I didn’t walk to the campus right after I arrived at the station this time. Instantly I sat down and stared blankly at the money in my hand. She might have had harder times than mine but helped me anyway. What I called tough days might never come close in difficulty compared to hers. Yet she patted my head and continuously said “Good luck. I wish you all the best.” as if she knew that that particular morning, I really needed someone to pat my head and say that I’ll be okay. She was really the answer to my prayer that day and I can’t thank her enough for giving me additional strength. (writing this part got me in tears. Huhu)

After all the difficulties I had in life, I realized how Allah always send me what I need to bear. For my very first days in Sydney, that woman is the symbol of how I should always be hopeful about my life here. I should always know that the smiling faces of friends and strangers would be there when I need them the most.  

The series of kindness from people in Sydney reminds me of something: the next time you see someone with a confused face or you are in a position to help, please do yourself a favor. If you can, please offer help. You never know how much that person needs your help. You have no idea how many times that person would want to say thanks to you. You never know that perhaps that person will pray for you due to your kindness and hoping that he/she could also be a kind person like you. You never know what someone is going through so be kind, always.  

Lastly, Eid Mubarak for my Muslim friends. Taqobalallahu winna wa minkum. I will see you again later insyaAllah! 😊

Love, 

iim