the moral of the story?

I was having a really bad day at the office yesterday. Not that it's the first time. Looking back, that has always been the case with my job for the past six years: deadlines, crazy deadlines, friendly deadlines, I-understand-your-workload-but-sorry-what-else-can-I-do deadlines, chaotic environment filled with tension, people hurrying by to catch up with whatever it is running ahead of them, trying to get ahead of everything.


That was my introvert, HSP self talking.  


There are times when my less than 1% extrovert self (yes, I still believe that I actually have this, the test system just failed to recognize it) coming out and decided to take the front line, and see things rather differently. That it has always been a good place to work. That it's actually the best place to grow, full of challenges and experiences of new things you might never heard of before. That it's actually a place that will boost your confidence by taking you involved in big things, big scenarios, access to classified information, meeting important people. That those tensions, that chaotic environment, will be from time to time, filled with the sounds of people throwing jokes, laughter everywhere, victory scream over new business wins, friendly faces smiling over small unimportant things of our everyday lives.


I learn not to judge what my two sides of self see. They do have their positive and negative sides, though I am perfectly aware that I will always be gravitated to what I truly am: the introvert, the HSP, the unsent, the one that doesn't fit in. 


In some days, I can walk into the office calm, composed, collected, full of control of myself, ready to take any challenges offered by the day. In some days, I would walk in miserably, feeling frustrated by the chaotic environment, intimidated by deadlines that haven't even existed (yet). Yesterday was one of those days. With two deadlines waiting, the HSP in me that were on active mode started to panic. It wasn't a good condition and I collapsed, layer by layer, throughout the day. 


I finished my work for the day. Some of them. But I felt torn apart; my pride was torn apart, the idea I have about myself was challenged to the point of questioning my very existence in this world; am I just one of those passerby? One of the dying soul walking around the earth simply trying to make ends meet before the end comes and take away everything life is?


I spent the two hours going home trying to fight the tears I knew wouldn't be able to come out anyway. Just glistening moist at the corner of my eyes. My chest was full with emotions and my head was full with thoughts, both I have no control of. They were swirling, turning around, and I was so sure that I was going to cry last night. 


But then, not so far from my house, I saw some kids playing ular naga panjangnya. It's a traditional game I used to play when I was a little kid. I live in a suburban area, thus it is actually not uncommon to find children playing traditional games. But seeing those kids forming a row, singing and giggling while moving in a snake-like motion last night somehow brought a smile to my face. I suddenly thought of the days when I was one of those kids, singing and giggling under the moonlight. For a brief moment, I could feel the excitement I used to have while running around bare feet with my little friends in front of our houses. It was brief, but it was able to lift the heavy feeling off my chest. So last night, despite the intimidating day I had previously, I reached home with lighter heart and a smile on my face. And I'm really thankful for it.


I felt grateful how some things, are, comfortably, remains the same, especially within our heart. Now I see why.


So, dearest people, what is the moral of the story? I don't know. I don't think I've started this blog post with such a noble idea to give and moreover, to highlight a valuable lesson. At least not this time. I don't know what the moral of the story is, and I'm not planning to dig deeper into my brain to find out about it anytime soon. I started this blog post with a rather selfish intention, that is to let you know that I was having a bad day and unable to deal with it, I've let it ruining my day, but then I managed to came home smiling because of some kids playing ular naga panjangnya. 


Was it about finding the silver lining in the sky? Was it about having positive thought in your hardest times? Was it about finding peace within yourself? I don't know. 


I just remembered that when I opened the gate of my house last night, I sighed, and thinking, oh such an old wisdom, never fades in time. 


But what was it, really?




South Jakarta, in the middle of this chaotic place, while waiting for my research plan being reviewed