Tag Archives: transcendentalism

Disconnect To Connect

Saya pernah mengalami masa itu. Masa di mana jarang sekali merasa sadar dan menyatu dengan apa yang benar-benar terjadi di sekeliling, melainkan di dalam telepon selular yang saya genggam.

Rasa-rasanya slogan kampanye Nokia yang berbunyi “Connecting people” beberapa tahun silam, konon sekarang telah berubah menjadi “Connecting phone” saja. Karena bertemu muka dan bercakap-cakap secara langsung sudah kehilangan esensinya.

Semakin kemari, semakin saya berpikir panjang ketika memikirkan kembali diri yang sempat berlama-lama menyelam di dalam layar handphone yang bisa menghabiskan waktu berjam-jam hanya untuk melihat yang itu-itu saja; Sebosan itukah kita terperangkap dalam kehidupan?

Bahkan banyak sekali yang kemudian merasa gelisah jika saja si handphone tiba-tiba kehabisan baterai dan tidak ditemukan colokan di sekeliling. Atau ketika paket data habis dan tidak ada wifi. Paling bahaya adalah ketika si telepon genggam itu sendiri hilang dari genggaman. Losing your phone is more dramatic than getting a D for final test. Alangkah lucunya!

Setelah hampir melalui masa dua minggu tanpa terlalu sering melihat handphone dan juga sukses deaktivasi akun social media, I started being more present. I realized that when I disconnect from the outside world, I could start feel more connected with myself afterwards.

Apa yang salah dengan kebanyakan dari kita?

Apakah dengan memiliki kebahagiaan yang sudahlah semu di dunia fana, haruskah kini beralih menjadi lebih amat semu di dunia maya?

Telah banyak yang saya coba pahami ketika masih aktif membaca maupun memposting di akun-akun yang telah saya deaktivasi itu. Ketika bencana alam menerpa, perang yang terjadi di belahan dunia manapun beserta korban yang tidak mereka kenal itu… malahan menjadi lebih sukses menarik seluruh perhatian satu-persatu dari mereka.

Ironinya, mereka melupakan orang-orang terdekat. Yang mungkin menjadi yang terburuk, kalaulah mereka memiliki keberanian, akan lebih memilih untuk mengakhiri hidup dengan cara yang paling tidak mengenakkan untuk didengar.

Bahkan saking muaknya saya pada satu momen bencana alam di Yogyakarta waktu itu, kemudian saya dengan terang-terangan memposting tulisan yang menertawakan segala perilaku mereka. Mirisnya, yang mengatakan “saya bukan seorang manusia yang memiliki hati” adalah orang-orang yang cukup dekat. Lalu dengan seenak jidat, saya memposting angka kematian korban bunuh diri yang telah diambil dari sebuah hasil survey terpercaya. Kemudian hening.

Apakah rasa peduli terhadap sesama kini hanya berupa ingin diakui saja? Agar orang lain bisa melihat kalau kita adalah yang paling humanis diantara segala. Agar ini. Agar itu. Eh?!

Mama di rumah tugasnya bangun, nyiapin makanan, seterusnya cuma nunggu anak-anak sama Bapak pulang, yang ditunggu malah kemudian semuanya sibuk sama handphone masing-masing. Mama hidup sama siapa sih?! –EMAK

Dan kalimat barusan yang telah bertahun-tahun lamanya saya dengar baru saya sadari, alami, dan rasakan sekarang. Bagaimana jengkelnya diajak bertemu oleh beberapa orang di luar, tak pernah ada yang benar-benar being present di depan mata. Di rumahpun masih begitu. Saya bahkan masih jarang menemukan kehadiran Bapak, Adik, dan Kakak. Ungkapannya ya begitu, sama seperti yang dikatakan Ibu.

Phones are tools; we are at risk of trying to extend their limitations. It is a poor substitute for real interaction, presence, experience, and connecting.

Disconnect to connect.

We always tend to be late for everything.

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The Art Of Being In Pain: Transcendental Tragedy (From Chaos To A Dancing Star)

cross the boundaries a paradox of choices (2012)

cross the boundaries // a paradox of choices (2012)

“You know why people cut? It’s a distraction. For one moment, you don’t feel all the pain, the loss, and the hurt. All you feel is that razor going into your skin, the blood dripping down your arm, leg, stomach. You don’t think about how alone you are or how ugly you are. You don’t think about the way people talk about you behind your back, the bullshits they spread behind you about you. Or about how broken your family is. All you think about is the blood.

And the addicting part? That’s when all the hurt and pain comes back; when the cut isn’t fresh and you can feel all the build up of sadness and loneliness inside you. So you have to do it again, but a little deeper so the numbness will last longer, the pain inside will be delayed longer. And as the pain inside gets worse and worse you have to make the pain outside worse and worse. It’s all about control. You have it.

If you can’t control the pain outside, some people may think that it’s so stupid, a weird thing to do for hurting yourself.

But those who have been in this situation would understand.

The situation when everything is screwed up, everyone seems on the opposite and blaming you for the things you didn’t do. And for the moment, those who know God might think that God doesn’t want them too.

We hurt ourselves to try to kill the pain inside because the physical pain really works cover the pain inside. You don’t know how it feels like to be completely hopeless and being hurt until you can’t cry or say anything. And you need something to distract it. You need something to make at least yourself forgets the pain, even just for awhile.

When I was younger, I could never truly imagine on why someone ever wanted to kill themselves. But what it’s like to have that feeling like you’re worthless, to feel like no one would really care if you just disappeared. I understand now that words hurt. I know what it’s like to be in that person’s shoes. You don’t have any idea how hard someone life’s. You can’t judge them by how they act in front of you. Some of your friends might smiling all day and cheering everyone else who’s blue, but maybe they have to cry themselves to sleep.”

-Andrea Naomi Y

I will tell you something about pain. I know you know if we know nothing more about it than a feeling. It hurts. It kills. It makes us to blame nothing but this reality as it is. No matter how much we try to shut it, we will never can.

a collection of visual body poetry (2012)

a collection of visual body poetry (2012)

I was there. I cut myself. I seek for help. I had cried to the outside of my inner world for years, wishing for someone to come and bring me to heaven. No one was there. I went to the professionals but couldn’t depend on them for a long time because I didn’t have enough money (90.000/hour not including the meds, 8 years ago) for God’s sake. I decided to take illegal drugs and whatsoever it is to repress the pain.

Yes, we drink too much alcohols, we put on our “I’m fine” masks everywhere we go, some do drugs and false religion of sexual behaviors, others go for a run, and everything that sounds metaphor. We did it because the society has told us to do it. We have been living in a miserable culture where feelings are not welcome and embarrassing. As the result, we repress our feelings. We cut off ourselves off of the healing process. We don’t have time for self-understanding. When that chance of the best thing in the world is closed, what is left to us is acting out of being bad, being depressed and addictive behavior of all kinds.

They called me crazy, attention whore, and loser. They tried as much as they can to avoid me. Those eyes and words that I would never forget until the rest of my life stay in mind. They are a part of me.

 

One thing I understand about pain. We can’t shut it. No matter how hard we try, we just can’t. We absolutely have no reason not to feel it, because we need it.

 

We need pain as much as we need love, hope, and oxygen. We need pain to know what is missing in our life. We need pain to realize no matter we want to be content, we would never be, because there is nothing in this reality could make us feel content. We need pain to learn that all of these physical things are nothing but an illusion. All of us are fana.

Furthermore, we need pain to survive, to find out an interesting fact with cognitive dissonances covered it on the surface; what is it lies inside our bodies. When we have known the truth of pain and the universe itself, thus we can focus on being: to become everything, to become immortal, and to keep on living.

And now, I could say that I’m much better than before. I washed my body at a hidden sacred place and have learned how to implement laughing therapy in Bali, took 10-day Vipassana meditation courses, and yes it works; the mad sounds inside my mind are gradually gone. I could even isolate myself for months in solitudeness. The pain, the chaos, and the darkest time have brought me to that “Good day sunshine” kind of life.

 

Eat good, drink water, rest well, and meditate.

I am inter Om.

Bhavattu Sabba Mangalam.

 

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