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Sunday, December 4, 2016

The Three Homes

It's been 13 days since I left LA. The tall buildings, the busy public transportation, the chilly wind, the frustratingly short fall/winter days, they all seemed light years away.

For a week they were replaced with humid (and almost suffocating) weather, bumper-to-bumper gridlock traffic jam, street food and somewhat fancy food, the skyline that stretch on forever, and glitzy malls that made you giddy with opulent excitements.

For the next week those too will be replaced with ceaseless scooter driving, with wind in my hair and the harmonic chaos of gamelan (Balinese orchestra) in my ears, suckling pigs on spit and mom's homemade cooking, temples to pray and bars to play with beaches and mountains in between.

One is a place where I was born and raised. One is where my rightful place is, the source of my blood within. One is where I can be myself. So which one is home?

Home is where I chat like crazy till 2 in the morning, and play card/dice games for hours afterwards. Home is where I sip coffee and gossiped with a friend, and on and on we went. Home is looking at my friend's attractive yet incredibly expressive face and totally understand why people loved her. Home is excitedly yet anxiously sitting in the car on the way to the temple, longing so bad to be there and find solace once more.

Home is running to the ocean with mismatched bikini, and jump gleefully into it. Home is laughing with the wave and splash the water around, feeling purified and rejuvenated and simply...happy. Home is drinking beer in a club made to look like a giant house party, and as the night went on the calm friend became more and more vivid. Home is little tiny hands touching me and calling me over and over again: "Bugek Ary!" (auntie Ary), Dad's plans and Mom's easy goingness, siblings love and bickerings.

Home is long commute with cool bus drivers and interesting passengers. Home is homemade lunch for the weekdays and freshly grilled bf-made meals on weekends. Home is cool job and even cooler co-worker. Home is intense business discus/tsion and entertaining board games. Home is the endearing "Hey" in messaging apps, and the smile I'll soon see in person. Home is lonely life yet a satisfying one, a state of mind where one become the city itself.

Three places, three life, three homes. To say I am merely blessed is a gross understatement.

A true prowess of human is his/her ability to adapt to his/her surrounding, and use it to the max; to be able to see both silver lining in even the most frustating condition and bloomed with it. We know limits in physical matters, but spiritually we are limit-free. Our soul, our mind transcend matter. And thus, we are bigger than we look, than we choose to believe.

Had I lived a life constrained to just a singular home, a life in any of the three homes I have would be fulfilling indeed. But I have three of them. Others might have less, or even many more. This knowledge buoyed my spirit and made me realized how vulnerable yet powerful we are spiritually, how fascinating our mind and adaptation power is, how truly beautiful my life is. We are not a flock of ducks herded by the unknown farmer, we are kings and queens of our own realms.

The three homes beckon me, calling me. I have loathed and feared and angry at each of my homes. I have loved each of them even more. And now I will heed their calling. I am home. I am home. I am home.

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