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?