
I spend most of my time building software.
Systems have logic.
Problems have bugs.
You can usually trace an input to an output.
But life doesn't always work that way.
At some point, I started writing a completely different kind of project: a contemplative poetry book called Hening yang Berjalan (Stillness That Walks).
It isn't a technical book.
It isn't a productivity book.
It isn't self-help.
It's a collection of short reflections and poems about silence, uncertainty, growth, letting go, and the things we experience but don't always know how to explain.
I built it almost the same way I build software: one small piece at a time, then gradually connecting those pieces into something larger.
The book is structured around three movements:
Root → Growth → Sky
From carrying what we've inherited, to learning to live with uncertainty, to eventually learning that not everything needs to be understood or controlled.
I found it interesting that, after spending years building things that are supposed to do something, I ended up making something whose purpose is simply to make someone pause.
That's probably the strangest project I've shipped.
If you're interested in the idea behind the book:
🇮🇩 Hening yang Berjalan
https://www.cahyanudien.site/hening-yang-berjalan/
🇬🇧 Stillness That Walks
https://www.cahyanudien.site/stillness-that-walks/
It's a small experiment in building something that doesn't optimize for productivity, growth, or efficiency.
Just something quiet.