I'm back
from another journey. I was so looking forward and really nervous about it just
before I left. Now, that I’ve
comed back, I thought I’d blog about a few things I need reminded. I wrote this
before I left and didn’t have the chance to upload it. So here it is.
It was the night
of the 22nd of April 2010. It was dark but the streets of Larantuka was lit
with hundreds, if not thousands, of candles of the Semana Santa ceremony. I was
wearing all black and walking amongst the Catholic believers. Cindy was on my
right and Tante Tuka, a local Denga Deo, was on my left. I was starting to feel
tired after walking and standing for about 2 hours. I wanted the whole thing to
end!
But I sucked it
up. A process is a ‘whole’ when you can complete it, right? Right??? It then
had me thinking, there I was still walking, standing, and amongst prayers which
wasn’t my belief. I traveled to the end of Flores, chasing that certain
moment, spending money, and spending energy not on my own religion. How did I
get my priorities mixed up?
Right there and
then, I decided, I have to save up for my own believes, at least I have to Umroh.
It’s not like I’m an atheist or agnostic where I don’t do the rituals and
stuff. I do. I do believe in God, the prophet, the hoo-haa’s, and I do some of
the rituals (:P). So there really isn't excuse for me not to go.
To be fair, Umroh
is a journey which requires a lot more money. That’s one of the main reason I
haven’t done it. So I started to save up. I also thought that it’s time to do the ‘journey’ amongst
‘journeies’, eventhough it is the shorter version of it. I like to travel and
before I travel more, it’s time to take these travel to the core of traveling
itself, to where the heart needs more. Back to God!
Need I add, I’m
at an intersection of my life. I’m not really sure what path I should choose.
Should I quit my job and my beliefs in this company? Should I accept the fact
that I might stay single all mylife? What is it that life wants me to do and what do I want in life? The classic
case of questioning my own existence. Seems like we’re never gonna step out of
this ‘teen’ phase after all.
After the Manasik or a briefing on what we are going to do
there, I learned that not all are
fortunate enough to visit the holy land. It is a privileged invitation. Some
might not want to just yet, some can’t afford it just yet, some might not
experience it at all. Accodring to the preacher, they haven’t been invited. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone has different callings and
process. But because he said that, and the fact that there are many that would
love to see Baitullah or the holy house, I believed him. My stars so happened
to align and bring me home to the holy house. I can afford it (Alhamdulilah), I
have the time, the energy, and my boss permitted me to go.
What’s more bizzare
is I realize that my calling was on that street in Larantuka in 2010, amongst
the Catholic faithfuls in a Catholic ceremony. Is that a calling or what?
