THE ART OF EXPRESSING THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

Sorry that I've abandoned this blog over a period of time. Not that I don't want to write anymore, I really do but I have no idea what to write, or rather, how to express my thoughts in the simplest words possible. Lately I've found comfort in expressing my thoughts in a form of art, usually a drawing followed by a short prose. It's more challenging to me that way because to make things seem artistic, I cannot be too literal; I have to put metaphors and the drawing has to support both the metaphors and the actual meaning of what I'm trying to express. But that's what I like to do. 

Another reason for this brand new 'hobby' is because I don't like to express my feelings directly. While I do love to share thoughts with people, I'm not very comfortable with doing a 'heart-to-heart' talk (or 'curhat'), not even to my best of friends. Not that I don't trust them, I have hard times explaining how an event would make me feel because the feelings are pretty complex (considering that I'm a very empathic person) and many times I've been misunderstood. So I thought illustrating these feelings into something easier to understand might help, and hey, it does help. Also, by expressing my inner thoughts this way, I make people think and observe too, I stimulate their minds to think deeply and analyze my drawings and proses, connect them with current issues we have in our world. 

I'm considering a career in illustration (probably between science and philosophy/slice of life) due to this. I'm not gonna call myself an artist just yet because I still have much to learn and I haven't yet maximize my talent. But I do know that my passions are drawing and writing. I draw, therefore I am. 

SINGING IN THE RAIN

I stepped out from the bus. It was raining heavily and I left my umbrella at home, so I had to rush myself to the security post, which was only 10 m ahead of me. However, I still couldn't make it back home to my boarding house, so I had to stay in the security post for a while. I made a small talk with the kind and friendly securities, they talked about their villages, their families, and how I lost so much weight since the first time we met. Minutes passed by, and I noticed that the rain has calmed down but not so much. I figured it was the best time for me to rush into my boarding house, but as I stepped my feet outside the rain got heavy again (with thunderstorms as a bonus). There were plenty of moments where the rain calmed down, but some time later it turned itself into a terrible storm. And it did that whenever I decided to rush myself back home. 

I sat there wondering why I had to experience this kind of bad luck, but then I remember how much my younger self loves the heavy rain... Back in my hometown, we were told by our parents to carry an umbrella with us all the time, because it rains everyday in Tembagapura and the rain would make us ill. Yes, we did carry have an umbrella in our backpack, but we seldom even use it. When it rains, we let every drop of it touches our face. We got back home soaking wet, and took a nice warm bath right after and a cup of homemade hot chocolate. It was a very pleasant experience. And quite surprisingly, none of us got sick after all. 

I tucked my shoes in my bag and let the rain hit me. I felt a strange comfort whenever a drop of the rain hit my face or my clothes, whenever my bare feet touches the moist ground and the puddles. I enjoyed the cold weather and how quiet the neighborhood was since everyone was hiding inside their houses. Some passerby with an umbrella starred at me feeling sorry, little do they know I actually feel sorry for them because they did not enjoy the lovely rain.

Sometimes we have to stop being so protective to ourselves by putting away our shield (the umbrella) just to see what we define as 'bad' isn't always bad. The bad weather can be a wonderful thing, once you decided to see it from a different perspective. 

DRAMATIC CHANGES

I'm getting very comfortable with my current lifestyle now but at the same time I'm not making any progress for the better. I still can't support myself financially, I'm not losing any weight, I still have no significant achievement in college. Last month especially, had been pretty tough after I saw my grades and had a huge fight with my best friend. I felt retarded and awful, two of the worst feelings ever existed. I'm able to handle this kind of situation now, my best friend and I are talking to each other again, I'm doing my best to fix my grade and I'm not giving up on my workout. Still I think something is wrong, or not working.

The past few days I feel something strange inside myself. Few days ago when it all started I suffered from low blood pressure (still recovering now) and that's when I slept for 12 hours straight, which is unusual for me because I rarely overslept. I knew I need to wake up, but I could barely open my eyes and move my body, another sleep paralysis experience minus the scary-looking spirits. That moment gave me another meaningful dream I believe I needed to experience. 

The dream brought me to a fancy, high-class apartment and all of my family and high school friends were there, but they seemed to ignore me or they just didn't notice my existent. But a security guard seemed to notice my presence, and he accused me for stealing one of the apartment keys. I tried to avoid him and ended up lost in the hidden corner of the apartment where I found a small but luxurious library. The shelves and the floor were made of marbles and the collections looked old, yet the library was completely empty. I walked around and found another hidden corner inside the library; there was a desk with a Tibetan singing bowl on it, and there was a sign that said the library provides free aura healing service. I passed out for whatever reason I still don't understand, and a monk came in to carry me and talk to me. He asked me to stay focus and started asking me random questions like the name of my pets, things I like to do, my favorite colors, but there are noises around us like the sound of doors, wardrobes and drawers being held open and heavy books slammed onto the floor, and they are getting louder. He kept telling me to stay focus, but the noises were louder then ever and I couldn't hear a thing he said. The noises woke me up from that dream eventually, but this time I completely understand what it means without any assistant.

I've been too distracted and out of the root, I put away my responsibilities and I waste my talents to live the life I have now. Back then I did what I'm meant to do, but this turns me into an alien and I found it hard to fit in. I had very few friends back in school days and I don't blame them because I do realize I'm too strange to be around them. That's when I decided to throw away what defines me and blend in, and it worked. Now I have friends and I can say that I'm quite popular here, I had too much fun I didn't pay any attention to my intuition and conscience. They have been screaming and yelling at me but like I said, I've felt too comfortable with the lifestyle I have now. And here I am, failing in life and not making any significant progress, which explains why my energy field is getting weaker than ever.

I need to start making changes here and there soon and get away from my own comfort zone. I'm opening my ears to my conscience and paying attention to my intuition again, and they told me I need to figure out things all by myself, how can I make such a dramatic change so I can make at least a step further from where I am now. I used to have some help from my gifted teacher, who noticed my troubles and unused talents back in high school before I even said a word to him and I used to have plenty of help from my best friend, but after that fight and I lose contact with my teacher I realize that I'm on my own now. I believe they're making changes themselves, and I can't always rely on someone else to help me if I want to live life properly.

I figure going somewhere remote and reconnect with nature alone would make the best first step, I'll be able to clear my mind and gain my confidence and determination back. But I do realize I need to make it happen instead of waiting for it to happen. It's a crucial step because I can't do things right without confidence and I won't get the result I want without determination. Being alone would make me stop being so concerned about what others think of me; all this time I feel like they're looking down at me because I'm surrounded with friends and family who are making progress (be that academic achievements, career or weight-loss plan) and here I am, still the fat stupid looser like always. And yes that'll make me stop hating myself so much too. 

NIGHTTIME HORRORS (AND THEIR ARTISTIC SIDES)

The past couple of nights I've been experiencing some messed up dreams, probably after having such a mad week full of deadlines. I've been having dreams like this since I was a kid, but as I grow up the dreams are getting creepier and realistic. It feels like I've been through hell's very own valley of death and darkness. But I do realize they are no longer bothering me, giving me insomnias and adrenaline rush when I wake up. In fact, I begin to notice that even the things that people fear, like darkness, have their own artistic side. Now I'm in the state where I'd wake up from a nightmare thinking "wow that's pretty fucked up... but hey that would make such a good horror movie scene, it would scare the shit out of people for good." But well, if you have phobias and/or paranoia, please do not continue reading this. 

I made some quick sketches of my nightmares last night, the creepiest ones I can remember:

The black eyed girl and the short haired one on top left were a doppelganger of myself. The short haired girl was a younger version of me and I saw her long time ago when I was in that particular age (7 years ago, so I was 12 at that time). I was stuck in my old house and everything  was as still as stone except for myself, so I went around to find out what's going on. That's when I saw a copy of myself standing from the other side of the window (she was outside of the house) giving me a cold stare. When I tried to approach her she took a knife and began stabbing herself on the neck. As for the black eyed girl, I saw her few days ago. She was my own reflection on a mirror, and I noticed there's something wrong with the reflection because my eyes appeared all black. I figured it was the light of the room that made them look that way, but I tilted my head to every direction and the eyes look all black, still. But hey, that girl has some thick and long eyelashes so I got that going for me at least.

Now I'm gonna write about the story behind that bloody guy hanging from the tree. Like I said, I might've went to the darkest valley in the underworld. It appears that I wasn't alone in that dream though, I went there with some people including a priest. He took us around for a "tour" and it was very clear that the place was full of rotten dead bodies. The ones I remember the most are that bloody guy and his twin brother... His body was melting slowly from the lava that heats up the tree and each drop of his melting body parts dropped onto his dead brother's body, laying underneath. After observing the twin brothers, we stopped by at a river nearby, there we found two other dead bodies,  a man and a younger girl who might've drowned into that river to death, but they still have all of their body parts with them and they haven't rot yet, unlike any other bodies we found in that place. The priest murmured some kind of spell and the two were brought back to life. Too bad I woke up without knowing the fate of these two. 

Pretty creepy, right? I know they are, they used to be a reason why I fear the darkness and why I find it hard to sleep. But one thing I know is that they are no longer scaring me, instead they give me inspirations to my artwork. I'm getting bored with drawing all the adorable and innocent ladies with fancy dresses (or b00bies) (don't get me wrong I just can't draw guys), or kind-looking animals. I'd like to try something new, something mature and freakish, and my dreams are giving me a hand for that. 

On the other hand, considering that dreams are a reflection of one's deepest thoughts, I think my dreams are trying to remind me of my mental issues that I need to take care of. 

Anyway, after all those dreams I was rewarded with an awesome scene from my dream last night. I had a cup of coffee with John Lennon and Paul McCartney last night, can you even believe it? And it wasn't so surprising that he asked me to "imagine living life peace", hehe. Sketch of it coming soon :)

To end today's post, I'm gonna put this right here. I figure it suits today's topic pretty well. 

COMMON PROBLEMS AMONG EMPATHS

My grandfather gave me abilities that most people consider psychic such as experiencing strange yet meaningful dreams, astral projecting, and energy healing. Other than these abilities is the ability to feel people (empathy). It's different than sympathy, as told by this simple yet informative video:

But sometimes it comes to an extreme level where the person's inner conflict and emotions influence mine. I remember one day in school where I got to sit with a group of girls and one of them had issues with quite everyone else (that time I was completely neutral because I didn't even know her and I don't want to be judgmental) so there were rumors about her spreading around. She looked happy and fine as she talked to her friends, but I knew that deep inside she was in turmoil because I felt her. I felt a sudden pain in my chest that came out of nowhere.

There is another event; I was in the car with one of my instructors and I've been told that his wife had passed away years ago, leaving him and their son behind. As he drove the car in silence, I felt his lost, loneliness, and his love to the deceased wife. I somehow knew that he doesn't want to marry again because he wanted to remain loyal, which is why I salute him. Yet at the same time I felt really bad for him and I could feel my heart ripping slowly during the silence.

This ability is one of few reasons why I can never stand the crowd, because there are so many feelings and thoughts in the atmosphere, and to feel all of them at once is just so overwhelming and exhausting. I used to panic whenever I found myself trapped in the crowd and I've burdened my friends due to this.

Yet I now have to face expectations and pressure from here and there especially after I moved out to the city, I can feel how my heart hardens with ego. I know that I can still feel, but perhaps I just don't care about what other's feel anymore because to the new, grown-up me, what matters the most is me and I spare only a little room for others. Sometimes my actions seem so heartless (like throwing mean jokes) people have to talk to me about it. This also affects my other abilities; I can no longer heal or astral project voluntarily.

So both situations, over-feel and feel-less (sorry for the made-up terms), are never healthy, I know that. I'm far from my balanced state both mentally and spiritually. It is never easy to maintain that balanced state because we just have to sometimes be in hard situations because such is life. I'm pretty sure all empaths experience the same problem at some point.

A balanced empath may feel others without letting the feelings affect himself. He has good control on himself while he knows how he can help the person. I do so wish I could train myself to do this because I feel responsible for inheriting my grandfather's golden abilities and so far I'm the only one in the family.

If you're an empath and facing the same situation (or even better; you've learned how to overcome this problem) feel free to share it in the comment section below. I'd love to hear your thoughts and to learn to develop with someone else.

Namaste

BACK TO THE PAST

http://www.urjashakti.com/past-life/

Few days ago I had an interesting conversation with an old friend about our past lives. We are believers of reincarnation and we both have seen ourselves as soldiers from WW2. I learned all about my past from my realistic nightmares and a past-life therapy session from my teacher and my psychic friend, he learned his from meditations and dreams also. I served the USA, he fought for Germany. We never met each other back then, but the whole WW2 thing pretty much connects us in the strangest way possible. In fact, I felt this way to every incarnated soldiers I met. 

Our conversation lead us to two questions: why do we forget? And why some of us have to remember again? Most of us, both believers and nonbelievers of reincarnation, have lost most of our memories about the past. What we care about is the present and the future, and after all, that's all that matters. So why do we have to see the past, why is it necessary for some us to remember?

I left a wife and a daughter, and it wasn't the kind of death brave soldiers should face. I surrendered, I let my enemy shot me in the head. The war was too much for me to handle because I was never born a fighter. I survived the first hour, thanks to a friend who carried me to the nearest red cross post. The nurse stitch my head but it was no use because I bled too much. Even now I have this stitch-like birthmark above my left eye, but my thick long bang covers the mark so it can only be seen if I tie my hair back. 

My friend on the other hand, was so passionate about the war, even before he remembered his past-life he knew almost all the details about WW2. He enjoyed sketching soldiers and riffles. You can say that he's a human encyclopedia for WW2. Unlike me, back then he was good at fighting and he enjoyed serving for his past country. Unfortunately, his passion had to stop when he got shot right in the chest. He died in instance, leaving a girlfriend behind. 

So we served different countries, we died in different way, the war was a traumatic event for my past self while his past self sees it as something exciting. I might had to forget because the memories were burdens to my past self and my spirit wanted to restart life all over again without having to physically remember this event. He might forgot because his passion took the lives of people including himself.

But in the end, as time goes by, we began to feel the urge to learn about the past and remember everything all over again. Why so?

Perhaps our spirits wanted to remind us that our unfortunate death shall not be repeated in the end of our current lives. We have been given the opportunity to experience life yet again, and we are now fortunate enough to have better fate and to be in a better world (well, maybe 'better place' suits better because the world is still full of wars anyway). Our experience shall be a lesson to both of us and everyone else in this world. We cannot change what is happening right now, we have little power to do so and the world has been like this since the beginning of mankind. What we can do is protect people around us, at least those we love, from doing the things our past selves have done. If we want to make the world a better place, we have to start from a small scale. 

THE DAY I DECIDED TO GIVE

illustration was taken from huffingtonpost.com

It was almost 12, and it feels unusual to see how empty the city was. After a quiet morning full of workout at the gym, I rushed to see a taxi so I can go to my father's office in the heart of the used-to-be crowded city. Luckily there was one standing by in front of the building, and much to my relief it was a 'low-cost' taxi (I've been trying to save more money to purchase this pair of Nike shoes I adore so much). The friendly and polite taxi driver agreed to take me to the office even if it's not so far from where I was. 

We were on our way when someone called the driver. "Wassalamualaikum," he said. Soon I heard the person from the other side replied in a fainted voice. I heard the conversation in silence from the back seat, guessing that the person calling this driver was his sister (since he kept calling her "mbak"). 

"I sold the television for only 250.000 rupiah. It was the best deal I got. I asked the company (of the taxi) to lend me 350.000, but they won't give me."

"Where can I get that much of money..." he started to sound sad and desperate. I could see him trying to hold back the tears from his reflection. "We need 600.000 rupiah quickly to get mother to the hospital. Her condition is getting worse..." 

I felt like my heart stops beating for a few second. I heard reports about vicious taxi drivers trying to 'trick' people into paying them more, but I'm an empath and I trust my heart more than anything. My guts told me that it wasn't a scenario, that it is happening and the taxi driver is facing probably the biggest crisis in his life. 

"Please don't cry, take a good care of our mother and I'll do my best to collect the money." He ended the call just before we arrived. 

I grabbed the money I've been carrying in my pocket. I have 40.000 rupiah in hand that I planned to save for this pair of Nike shoes... but I realized that this man needs that money more than I do and the shoes can wait, though I wish I could give him more. If I were a wealthy person I would give him 350.000 straight, but I'm just an ordinary college student. I only have enough to feed myself, and it was the best I could give that day. 

The trip only costs me 14.000, but I handed out all I have to the taxi driver, convincing him that I want him to keep the rest even though he was being honest about the cost and he didn't ask for extra charge or anything. He began to burst in tears while showing the most sincere gratitude I've ever seen, and I will not forget the look on his face. I only give him 36.000 if I exclude the cost for taxi, and with that amount of money I could spend it all within a day, but that look of gratitude on his face... I will never forget.

It's the month of Ramadan, the sacred event for my fellow muslim brothers and sisters, and I want him to be blessed. I want him to remember that the world is not always cold. I just hope he could get his mother to the hospital as soon as possible. 

This event also hits me right in the face for spending too much lately, not giving time to appreciate what I have. When I disrespect 10.000 rupiah, the money means something to someone else out there. And to earn 10.000 one needs effort, and with all the excuses I made I hardly even take effort these days. I already have an income though not as much to fulfill my financial needs, but I still depend on my parents, while people out there will do anything, any job even the dirtiest, to survive and take care of their loved ones. 

We never know what a person has been going through, so please be kind to everyone whether it's Ramadan/Christmas or not. When you give, you receive.