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A Day Full of Art, Ocha, and Almost Peeing My Pants

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9 PM and I just walked through the front door after being out since 9 AM. Twelve hours, two cities, thousands of artworks, and one nearly-exploded bladder later, I’m home. Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Also yes. And because I know myself, if I don’t write this down now, it’ll disappear into the abyss of memory like socks in the laundry. This morning began with a 1.5-hour journey from home to my hubby's meeting venue with an investor. While he had his meeting, I had my own tummy-filling at a nearby food court over a bowl of chicken porridge. Twenty thousand rupiah for a hot, comforting, generous portion. Life tip: never underestimate the taste of street-level carbs. At 11 sharp, I made a beeline to a nail salon to prep for my upcoming surgery. Apparently, I need to strip off all polish and jewelry before going under the knife. Seemed simple enough, until I realized they remove gel polish here by scraping it off with what felt like dental tools. You know that feeling when you bite down on a...
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Confessions from the Toilet

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You know it’s going to be one of those days when it starts with an epic semedi session in the bathroom due to constipation. Not once, but twice. Picture this: I was stuck in the toilet from midnight until 1:30 AM (yes, you read that right), and then again from 9 to 11 in the morning. But here’s the weird silver lining: I actually got a surprising amount of work done in there. Who knew the toilet could double as a productivity pod? When I finally emerged from my porcelain office, I was greeted with a scene straight out of a feel-good movie. My husband had set up a whole dining table full of food: a fresh salad, crispy chicken egg rolls , and the pièce de résistance: udang saus mentega that was so delicious, I nearly teared up. My eldest and I even gave him a little round of applause. A supportive spouse who can cook? I mean, I thought I must have hit the jackpot, right?  But wait. The twist. I noticed red and green specks in the butter prawn... paprika? We didn’t have any paprika ...
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Strong Tuesday

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Tuesday started with that kind of peaceful stillness I really like, where the whole house is still stretching its limbs and I get to be the first spark of movement. I made quick breakfast before my husband prepped for his early meeting and my daughter readied for her class. Then came my usual “quiet hour” in the bathroom.  Yes, let’s be real here: I have chronic constipation and it’s part of my morning routine. I bring my laptop, catch up on a few emails, maybe draft a blog, respond to messages. Today, it was a WhatsApp from Mas Yusuf, assistant to Dr. Eko, an absolute gem of a human. Polite, responsive, full of initiative. He even gently suggested I check in with a urologist because my latest scan showed kidney stones. He also helped me with insurance forms. Excellent! 9am, Titipku team came over to hand-deliver their new healthy frozen food line. We ended up chatting longer than planned, sharing market insights, user behavior, product feedback, and little bits of life. I love wh...
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Cats, Clouds, and Clarity

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Monday started off a little lopsided.  While my husband dived headfirst into a string of meetings from morning till over lunchtime (he even missed our usual meal together), I… well, I had a much lazier start.   It was a weekly day out of me and my eldest daughter. The sky was already looking grumpy with clouds, so we decided not to take any chances. We asked my husband to drive us to our favorite little sanctuary: the cat café. Cat cafés are like therapy without the couch. The moment we walked in, the outside world started to fade. One especially fluffy ginger cat climbed onto my lap and made itself right at home. It curled up and dozed off as if we’d been friends forever. The cats milled around waiting for their 1:30 PM meal. The café came alive with movement, purring, and pawsteps. So many cats, so much curiosity. But once their bowls were filled, the room turned quiet. They nibbled, settled, and slowly drifted off into nap mode. Outside, the storm rolled in. Wind howling as...
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Roads, Roots, Reminder

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We kicked off Sunday with driving 43km to attend big family gathering on my husband’s side. Arisan keluarga besar, which meant food, laughter, catching up with uncles, aunties, cousins, and nieces. Family gatherings are a mix of nostalgia and new updates, laughter that feels familiar even if we don’t see each other that often. After the arisan, we made a stop at our very first house. It's the one we bought together after I delivered our firstborn. It’s now in line for renovation after being rented out, and soon we’ll put it up for sale. I stood there looking at the worn tiles and old kitchen, remembering the excitement of our early years. The kids aren’t interested in managing it, and that’s fair. Life moves on. But still… it’s the end of a chapter. (If anyone reading this happens to be looking for a house near Pondok Gede Mall and good schools, feel free to check it out here: Click here ). From there, we tried to rush back another 50km to catch the 5PM church service. We didn’t ma...
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A Day of Doing, a Moment of Receiving

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Another full Saturday, but it started differently. I went to Bio Medika lab in the morning for some health checks: urine test and a full abdominal ultrasound. Lately, I’ve been waking up with a dull pain in my lower right hip area. Not sharp, but enough to get my attention. The lab doctor casually mentioned it could be chronic appendicitis, the kind that comes and goes. The results wouldn’t be ready until late afternoon, so I had time to just wait and wonder. But let me pause here to say: Bio Medika’s service was stellar. From the security guard to the customer service staff, I felt like I was at a BCA branch or even onboard Singapore Airlines. Friendly, clear, fast, and warm. I didn’t expect to feel cared for in such a soft way in a clinical space. It felt like a gentle nudge from the universe: "You’re allowed to feel safe while being cared for." Next, I reached out to my insurance agent, Claudia. I just needed some direction: which hospital would be best, and what steps to ...
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A Quiet Spark in the Hustle

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August opened with a sense of rhythm. I followed my husband to Jakarta for his meeting with a lawyer. Our 2-hours drive was filled with more than just traffic and to-do lists; we talked deeply. About mindset shifts, micro-skills vs. macro-skills, the small habits that shape big outcomes. He’s been thinking about forming a startup union, and I love how his thoughts are always one foot in the future. My job is to keep him awake and engaged on the drive, since he only slept for 5 hours last night.  While he stepped into his legal meeting, I waited at The People’s Café. It felt like a slice of me I hadn't visited in a while: being alone in the middle of people. The kind of solitude that doesn’t isolate but nourishes. I opened my ipad and keyboard, let my fingers wander, and wrote a blog post. Words flowed easier in that ambiance. There's something about cafes and noise that makes my thoughts feel like they're sitting beside me, rather than hiding in the corner. Next stop: a cam...
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Late Flight, Long Fight

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This morning started with a kiss goodbye at 5am. My husband quietly slipped out of bed, and gently kissed me before driving himself to the airport. He parked right at the terminal and made it just in time for the early morning flight. Only to find out: it was delayed. Still, he kept texting me from the lounge, keeping me updated as if I were his anchor in the middle of a long, blurry day ahead. I remind him to pray. At 10:45am, I finally got another message. Just one word: “Landed.” I knew what came next. No time to chat. He’d be diving into meetings with investors, going through rounds of negotiations that, honestly, have started to feel like déjà vu. The kind where you don’t know if it’s the last fight or just one more in a long series of battles to keep something alive. For anyone watching from the outside, it's just another business trip. For him, it's battle. A quiet one. A costly one. You have no idea how much effort he puts into keeping the company afloat. And truthfully...
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Claiming the Morning, Reclaiming Myself

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I’ve learned that when I don’t claim my morning to write, the day slips through my fingers like fine sand. It passes in a blink, like a fast-forwarded scene, and I’m left empty-handed. I can feel it in my chest, this vague discomfort of a day lived but not captured, like I lost a conversation I was supposed to have with myself. Just like that, I missed three days. Three days without jotting down my thoughts. And it wasn’t for lack of something to say; it never is. Life is always speaking to me, through small moments, through feelings I can’t name just yet. Three of my last posts were backdated. Patches stitched on an old journal entry, written only after I could finally sit, breathe, and let my words catch up to me. Take yesterday, for example. I got pulled into the current of routines. It started with cooking, then running to the lab, grocery shopping. I told myself I'd rest while tidying up. That led to Netflix on the side. Then a bath. Then reading. And just like that, lights of...
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Read, Write, Receive, Repeat

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Today, I was busy being a student again. Not in a classroom, not wearing a uniform, but still deeply immersed in learning. My calendar wasn’t packed with meetings or errands, but with space to read, write, and feel. And weirdly enough, it felt more nourishing than a full-course meal. I joined a writing class called BNN Ultimate, guided by Okki. Writing has always been a part of my life. So has reading. They’re like breath and sleep. So basic, so automatic, that sometimes I forget to ask: Is the quality good? Am I writing with presence, or just out of habit? Am I reading to expand my heart, or just scrolling to fill silence? That's why I joined this class, to be mindful again. To honor the act, not just the output. I also started something softer but just as powerful: “21 Days of Receiving” by Rahne. It comes with a receiving tracker, a workbook, and modules that feel like gentle invitations to slow down. During the intro session, we were asked to check in with our bodies. “How’s yo...
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