A Mindful Journey of Yohana Meyrida Simamora

Unstoppable gratitude, these are the two words that define 2025, and probably 2026 and many years ahead. When I look back at early 2025, so many meaningful things happened. The second semester at UNHAN began. My children turned 10 and 8. We celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary, and my husband and I both turned 37. Many beautiful moments filled our days. Besides the ups, we also faced some downs. As a couple, we learned how to reconcile and find our rhythm again. We are constantly learning to manage our shortcomings so that the system we have built—our family—can keep working and growing. The second half of 2025 brought quite drastic changes. My husband moved to a different division at work, and we moved into our panggon , our new home in Halim Perdanakusuma. Our children advanced to years 5 and 3. I was no longer in my second semester at UNHAN, but I was trusted to serve as a Master of Ceremony and moderator for several UNHAN events. I also traveled to Pontianak for a few days with ...

I don’t think I’ve ever written about the government housing provided by the Air Force where we’re currently living. We’ve been here for almost half a year now—since June, to be exact. I still remember the day we left Malang for Jakarta: the kids and I ended up crying together. Strangely enough, that move also happened in December, as if the month itself always carries a bittersweet turning of seasons for our family. But life moves forward, and so must we. Our first home in Jakarta was in Lubang Buaya—a small house, roughly 108 square metres, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. My mother-in-law had lived there ever since I married her son in 2014. My husband and I bought the house using a mix of our parents’ support. Technically, we still owe my parents the remaining balance. Lol. After living in Jakarta for about two and a half years, we decided to move into what we call the Panggon , or rumah dinas—a service house provided by TNI AU. Since it isn’t a Rumah Jabatan < Official Re...

It had been raining all day today. I’ve always loved the rain, so you won’t hear any complaints from me. There is a quiet kind of magic in the air when it rains—the way the cold settles outside but somehow ushers a gentle warmth within. But my intention today is not to write about the weather. I simply wanted to sketch the atmosphere around me before diving into what has been unfolding in my life lately. Two days ago, I lost my temper. Truly lost it—with my children, El and Gi. I had been trying to be the patient, composed mother they deserve. So what pushed me into saying the things I said? It began early in the morning when I tried to wake them for school. They had set their alarms for five o’clock, only to switch them off and fall back asleep. I shook them gently, making sure they really woke up. Their excuse was almost comical: “Why bother with the alarm? You’ll wake us anyway.” Right. Inhale. Exhale. I remember trying to steady myself at that moment. To keep it short, after I drop...

Wow, December is already here, and I find myself wondering where the time has gone. The questions came rushing in almost instinctively: What have I done to grow this year? What impact have I made on the people around me? When I try to count them one by one, I lose track. Blessings have scattered generously across my months, even though the year began with grief as I mourned my grandmother’s passing in January 2025. There were storms too: an intense quarrel with my husband over a serious matter, a frightening near-slip into a Korean cult called Shincheonji, and the same old family tension centred on my brother. The truth is simple: life refuses to unfold according to our tidy expectations. Nothing ever reaches that perfect 100 percent we dream of. Yet, somewhere within those imperfect days, I recognise the ways I’ve grown. This year, I’ve been trusted again and again to serve as moderator and master of ceremony. It still surprises me how, whenever someone needs an MC, somehow my nam...

Konon, menulis jurnal adalah bagian dari proses penyembuhan. Saya mengangguk setuju. Menulis jurnal , bukan menumpahkan emosi lewat status WhatsApp sambil berharap semesta ikut marah hanya karena hati kita sedang seret. Ada jurang lebar antara refleksi batin dan pamer luka di ruang publik, meski banyak yang mengacaukannya. Awalnya saya enggan menyinggung hal ini. Namun, hidup sering bercanda—niat saya membahas hal lain langsung terpelintir hanya karena saya menanggapi sebuah status WA. Rupanya respons saya tidak bertaut dengan ekspektasinya. Jadilah ia bereaksi—riuh, garang, seperti hendak menerkam sesuatu yang bahkan bukan ancaman. Saya hanya tersenyum tipis. Mungkin saya memang salah frekuensi. Ternyata, memberi perhatian pun bisa dianggap provokasi oleh orang yang sedang tidak selaras gelombang batinnya. Dan ya, mungkin energi saya sedang terlalu lincah; spontanitas saya memercik, lalu memicu dinamika yang membuat saya menghela napas dan membatin, “Ya ampun… ups .” Saya tak henda...

On April 1st, 2025, my husband’s journey in the military took another step forward—he is no longer Captain but now holds the rank of Major. As his wife of eleven years, I am deeply grateful to stand beside him through every challenge and triumph.  Rather than simply feeling an overwhelming happiness, I sense a greater responsibility. Being the wife of a Major calls me to grow in wisdom, kindness, and respect—not just because of the rank itself, but because of the life we lead together in service. Our commitment to our church community makes us, in a way, an open book—an open Bible—where others can see, read, and perhaps draw lessons from our journey. This thought humbles me and reminds me to live with grace and purpose. As I reflect on this milestone, I also think of my friends whose journeys have taken different turns. Some have lost their husbands to illness or accidents, while others have faced delays in promotion due to circumstances beyond their control. Their stories remind...