The final act of a Wayang performance is called the Manyura part. Some associate this word with agrarian activity: to harvest. What does one harvest in this closing act?

Performance of Moving Stasis. Source: soydivision documentation.

When one hits the noble Gong Ageng, it signifies at least three different events: (1) the start of a musical piece, (2) the end/start of a musical cycle, and (3) the end of a musical piece. The music of the Gamelan repeats its musical cycle. Its repetition is, however, not repetitive. It changes in each repetition, so subtle and soft: a moving stasis.

Performance of TIBA during the rice cooking ritual. Source: soydivision documentation.

Any type of struggle is familiar to those who decide to leave their country. One form of such a struggle is the struggle with one’s identity and values. As soon as one steps into the new country, one’s identity and values are confronted with those who are not of one’s own. Not surprisingly, this leads to personal disorientation. Values and identities are influencing each other. Disorientation in values leads to the disorientation of identity and vice versa.

In such a situation, one finds oneself in the state in between. As such, one finds oneself in a liminal state. Should one move to the new values, new identities? Should one grasp the old values, old identities? Delays in answering such questions leave one prolonged in the liminal state. We find ourselves often delay our answers, making sure that the decision we take is the right one. By making a decision—-and the absence of it, as yet another type of decision—-one shapes one’s identity, one’s value.

Like a child playing on the beach  in front of the grand ocean  struck by its vastness:  so many are the sands of possibilities.

A friend told me that she felt losing her purpose in life. She is, despite her decent job and the luxury she can afford because of it, quite unhappy about her life. It is for me crucial that she mentioned the word “purpose.” It signifies a deep existential problem. She felt unconnected to her current job, lost interest in her significant other, and no matter how much leisure she would pursue, she was never satisfied. This hole in her heart creates a mud that drowns her, and she feels like a dead body that functions simply out of reflex. She felt numb to her life.

She said to me that she does not know what would be her path. I told her that I also do not know what is mine. At first, she thought that I am making a joke. After I repeated what I said with the same conviction, she trusted me. Then, she continued, should we live like this, without a purpose and a sense of direction? Not to give her a misleading answer, I paused a moment before saying: yes and no. What follows was an extension of my discussion with her.

1

When I walked through the street yesterday, the street was empty. It was three at the morning; no sound was audible. It was cold as most of the world still slept and the only noise I heard was the footstep I took. The street was empty, and so was my feeling. There are different kinds of emptiness; they came at different times.

1

A couple of years ago, I, my brother B., and my girlfriend R. were working on a dance-drama together. We adapted a play by Pramoedya Ananta Toer into a three acts dance-drama. The title was Mangir. One scene in the second act was for me memorable.

1

The street was full of cars and motorcycles. They drove past me as I walked to one bookstore about 80 meters away from my house. I noticed many things have changed for the last 4 years. My “hometown” became a stranger I have to get acquainted with again. The town was as lively as how I know it, and there were many food stalls on the side of the road. It was Saturday night, people go out on that night. I am always fascinated when observing how many people are there. How many different life, different personalities. Also: How many different problems.