Strong Hands

There’s something about a man with strong hands and fingers that show muscles and veins. To me a man needs to have strong hands, there must be signs of hard work. Women with strong hands are equally sexy to me although it’s a different kind of sexiness. I can be extremely put off by a guy with seemingly ‘soft’ hands, and the look and feel of those of a woman. It just doesn’t seem right, a man needs to have large muscular hands and preferably muscular arms too, period. What makes it worse is feminine hands in combination with jewellery: cringing.

I have no clue what caused this engrained ‘prejudice’ (or preference if you like) but I do remember something from my past that might have to do with it. When I was a little girl my dad used to work different shifts, sometimes he would come home late and I’d be in bed already, other times he would be home early. Those particular times he would count all the change which he kept in a large purse that he carried with him all day. He’d put it all on the table and make small stacks of coins which he counted after arranging them. It was almost like his daily Zen ritual.

When he was done counting he’d put the money back in the purse and take a kip. This was the moment where I would usually climb on his lap so we would have a kip together. But not before he’d put his large hand over my face to tease me. He would hold it there until I started to laugh and I’d try to push it away but of course I could never manage as his hand was huge compared to my face and he was way stronger. I could smell gasoline, tabaco and coins on his hand and up to this day I have fond memories of this. It was one of his loving teasing games he would play.

So I guess this is where I’ve gotten this preference for strong masculine hands. They ‘ought to’ smell of gasoline and tabaco. They ‘ought to’ show marks of hard labour and raised vains. I guess it also has something to do with feeling protected and comforted. At times when I’m on my daily commute to work I notice men with effiminate features, I’ve realised that I often check out their hands as this would give me an impression of what type of person it is. This morning I saw this guy sitting opposite of me who had small feminine hands and was wearing way too many golden rings.

I realised I was seriously put off by it, which made me contemplate about the reason why. It seems I’m not an exception as studies have been done about the topic by different scientists and they offer some kind of explanation as to why people have certain preferences. I was happy to read that it has nothing to do with shallowness, I’m very aware of the flaws I have ;) but this particular issue seems to be based on a scientifically approved justification. So next time I’ll notice something that makes me seriously cringe, I’ll politely look away and instead play a silly game on my phone…

Sacred Space

Yesterday was the seventh anniversary and although I had a quiet moment, I didn’t celebrate like I used to each year because I have no ‘home’. I’m still living out of boxes (which can be utterly frustrating at times) so I still don’t have my sacred space with my collection of sacred objects. Where I’m currently living is not my home, it’s a transitional place… a passage from one phase in live to another, a phase of cleansing, forgiving and rejuvenating.

But just because I have no sacred space, doesn’t mean I didn’t think about things; I did contemplate. But it was different this year… I cooked (my recipe), not the traditional Indonesian meal but one that my dad used to enjoy very much come to think of it. Braising steak with carrots, sweet onions, a bulb of garlic, bay leaf, cloves, stock and some secret ingredients *wink*. It had been simmering for hours filling the house with a beautiful aroma.

Later in the evening I stood outside watching the sky and talking to my dad while the wind was roaring around the house. After seven years of spending this day without my family for profound reasons I got to spend it with them today, not by choice but merely because it just happened to be that way. It was okay… but next year I will spend it near my sacred space again because next year I will have moved on to the next phase of live…

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As in many sacred architectural forms in Indonesia, the house is not only seen as a mere dwelling place, it is regarded as a symbol of the cosmos linking the divine world to that of man. In such places, the immaterial world and the material world are continuously interacting, and the harmony between the living and the world beyond is kept through rituals and offerings. As the invisible penetrates into the world of the living, so it needs to be identified in the material world.

Each of the spirits are given their appropriate attributes as tangible objects, and it is through these objects that they are identified during rituals. If the house is regarded as a living, heavenly altar on earth, ancestor worship is also common within the village and elsewhere needing blessings from the invisible forces.

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