Forgotten Roots and Emergence

 

All photos here are my personal photos

I’ve never liked big family gatherings on special occasions. I’ve always tried to avoid them. But this year, I realized I couldn’t run away from them anymore. I had to show up—as the oldest from my mum’s side. It had been far too long. Most of my family (from my biological father’s side, my stepfather’s, and my mum’s) thought I had either moved to another country (again) or died. Surprisingly—I had so much fun. I was able to just be my chill version of self and relax.

Pakde Bambang, Grandpa's first son from first wife

My grandpa used to serve in the Indonesian Air Force, and his first son from his first wife served there, too. I remember how Grandpa trained and disciplined me like a soldier. And when my uncle (Pakde Bambang) visited us at our old home, he did the same. He checked my posture, added extracurricular physical activities to my routine, and even taught me how to respond to Grandpa’s commands like I was one of their platoon members. Grandpa wouldn’t let me leave the house without my Doc Martens boots or the dog tag necklace he custom-ordered just for me. It was hilarious but also kind of empowering. I was Grandpa’s first grandson—even though I’m a woman. He built me to be like him: strong, firm, steady, and badass.

Thanks to my little brother’s curiosity about his roots and bloodline, we started digging deeper. I get why he needs to—it’s not just one family line he’s looking into, but three. We all have different fathers, so it’s overwhelming for him and my sister. But I’m proud of them. They managed their emotions and took in all the information our aunt and uncle shared like adults.

Eid's first day at Mum's

But me? I was the one caught off guard—still in shock, honestly—when I learned that my grandpa’s mum was Balinese. That means my siblings and I carry Balinese blood from Grandpa. When our aunt and uncle told us, the three of us just stared at each other. They know—especially my sister—about the vivid dreams I’ve been having since I moved to Ubud. Vivid dreams, full of Gods and Goddesses. Followed by strange, mind-blowing events that felt impossible. Things I saw in my dreams before they happened.

I’m still trying to process it all. Still connecting the dots. Trying to understand the story behind the journey I’ve been on since I arrived in Ubud. One of Grandpa’s sons—my other uncle—still lives somewhere in Bali. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him. He’s one of the best painters and sculptors in our family, and he chose to stay in Bali when Grandpa passed away.

Pakde Bambang's firstborn daughter's gathering

The forgotten roots I never imagined I had—and the quiet emergence I’ve felt bubbling inside me ever since I started letting go of so many things—are asking for attention now. Not distractions. Not busy work. But presence. These feelings deserve to be unwrapped and explored. This is not the time to keep locking things away in a box. It’s time to open the Pandora’s box and talk to whatever’s still inside.

One of the functions of being human is that we’re a vessel.

We carry things—
emotions, memories, stories, love, trauma, longing, and healing.
We hold space for others—sometimes for too long, sometimes with grace, and sometimes until we forget how to hold ourselves.
We become vessels for dreams not yet realized, grief not yet spoken, joy not yet shared.
We carry the echoes of our ancestors and the hopes for those who come after us.

Some vessels overflow.
Some vessels crack.
Some rebuild themselves over and over again.

A River in Waduk Brigif, South Jakarta

Right now, maybe my siblings and I don’t fully understand what our ancestors are asking of us. Maybe it’s not about extending the family name. Maybe we’re each being called to live out a higher purpose—for our lineage, for ourselves. Whatever it is, I believe this forgotten root, this emergence, is a sign. A quiet whisper telling us to keep showing up for ourselves. To keep choosing better, becoming better, each day.

I’ve changed my mind about family gatherings.
This one changed something in me.
It gave me roots I didn’t know I had—and reminded me that emergence always begins in silence.

South Jakarta, 1st April 2025
“Emergence” – Sleep Token