Homecoming as Psycho-Religious Therapy
On seven days before Eid al-Fitr 2025, the Trans-Java Toll Road corridors became seas of vehicles. In several points, queues stretched for dozens of kilometres, stations, ferry terminals and airports were filled with homebound travellers, while bus terminals were almost never quiet. The 2025 Ministry of Transportation survey records around 146.48 million people predicted to undertake mudik journeys.
Most opt for private cars, followed by buses, trains, and air travel. In the Lebaran 2025 mudik report, Republika describes this homecoming flow not merely as seasonal mobility, but as a large social phenomenon that repeats and has become deeply rooted in the nation’s culture.
The high number of homecomers is not merely a transportation statistic. The mudik process marks a form of collective national movement. Millions of people across ages, across social classes, and across regions are willing to endure traffic, fatigue, and even safety risks for one common purpose: to go home. Each Eid, Indonesia appears to move in unison, showing that mudik is not only about logistics and the economy, but also touches deeper dimensions: human emotion, identity, and spirituality.
The mudik phenomenon is often framed as an annual problem: long traffic jams, road crashes, price spikes, and the burden on families’ finances. Yet, if looked at more closely, mudik holds meanings that go far beyond these technical problems. Mudik is also a psycho-religious event — a journey that functions as a mechanism for soul healing and for strengthening faith.
From a psychological perspective, mudik can be understood as a form of emotion regulation. James J. Gross explains that humans actively regulate their emotions by choosing, modifying, or interpreting certain situations to reduce stress and maintain affective balance. This idea underpins the statement that individuals seek calming situations — such as mudik — as an emotion-regulation strategy.
After months of living under the pressures of work, economic competition, and social alienation in the city, mudik provides a psychologically soothing space. The hometown offers a familiar atmosphere, slower life rhythms, and warm social relationships; all contribute to reducing anxiety and mental fatigue.
In addition to this theory, mudik also aligns with attachment theory. The theory, developed by Bowlby (1969), explains that humans have a biological and emotional drive to seek attachment figures, usually parents or relatives, who act as secure bases and safe havens.
With “home”, the emotional pull becomes very strong. Encounters with significant figures such as parents, relatives and childhood friends are not merely nostalgia, but a psychological process to reaffirm one’s identity. A person is reminded that they are not merely a worker, a position, or a social role, but part of a network of meaningful relationships.
In the context of Islam, mudik has a deep religious resonance. Eid al-Fitr is understood as a moment to return to one’s fitrah, and mudik becomes a concrete symbol of that journey. Sungkeman, forgiving one another, takbiran, and visits to the graves are rituals that integrate emotion with spirituality. In psychology, rituals serve as a means of meaning-making — the process of giving meaning to life experiences. Requesting forgiveness is not merely a cultural formality; it is a mechanism for releasing negative emotions such as guilt, resentment, and regret.
From the viewpoint of positive psychology, mudik also contributes to resilience — the ability of individuals and communities to endure and rebound from pressure. Norman Garmezy (1970) in his resilience theory stated that families and social relations enable individuals to remain adaptive. Cross-generational meetings during Eid open space for the transfer of values: patience, steadfastness, simplicity, and gratitude, which help people stay adaptive to their surroundings.
Stories of parents and grandparents become narratives of endurance that enrich the younger generation’s resolve. In a modern, fast-paced, individualistic world, mudik reminds us that human resilience grows from relationships, not solitude.
Interestingly, mudik is collective and inclusive. In mudik, everyone moves with the same motive — to go home and reconnect. All strata — from children to the elderly, from labourers to officials — do the same. In social psychology, shared emotional experiences on a mass scale function to reinforce social cohesion. Mudik, in this sense, becomes a national ritual that brings together personal, social and spiritual dimensions simultaneously.
Therefore, viewing mudik merely as a seasonal problem laden with social issues is an oversimplification of its meaning. Mudik can actually be read as mass social and spiritual therapy that few other nations possess. Through mudik, individuals rearrange their emotions, reaffirm their identity, and deepen their relationship with God and with others. The fatigue of travel is often interpreted as part of sacrifice, which, in religious terms, has its own spiritual value.
Ultimately, mudik teaches that going home is not merely moving house, but returning to being fully human. In the bustle of modern life, mudik reminds us that inner peace is not necessarily found by moving faster, but by stopping for a moment — returning to family, to values, and to God.