Finding Peace in Singapore

Peace seems to evade me these days. 

This sentence was what I first wrote when I wrote this post, and has been left in the draft for at least a year. Probably longer. Looking back, I must've been in such a tumultuous state of mind. It is difficult to find peace in Singapore. But that applies to any major city. Don't think I've had entirely peaceful (quiet) nights in the 2 years I spent sleeping in my subdivided flat along the Cally in London. Ambulances and police cars zoom down the streets almost everyday throughout the night like nobody's business. 

It's only now, after over a year later and having had drunk way too much tea and writing this at 1am, that I find my previous premise slightly problematic.  

Peace seemed at that time to be entirely about quietness. I remember being frustrated waking up at 6am due to a neighbour's microwave beeping sound (seriously) when I chose not to turn on the AC at night. Or the sound of my mum talking on the phone early in the morning. These are small things. But I can't help but wonder that if this was the main factor that drove me to start the piece with 'Peace seems to evade me these days.' The best guess I can make at this point is that I was in a very unstable state of mind at the time. 2025 was a particularly tough year for me, and I was mid-processing whatever I was unhappy about then. 

Where then can I find peace in SG, you may ask?

I find peace in Macritchie at dusk, or the few times I've woken up early enough before the aunties and uncles blasting their radio start walking in the forest (ugh, some people have no consideration of others). 

I find peace walking around my neighbourhood at night, and hearing the occasional cricket or cicada call. 

I find peace at home when all is quiet around me, and the only noticeable sound is the whirl of the fan blades. 

I find peace when I'm deep into a book, silently contemplating the words in front of my eyes. 

I find peace when I look at, hold, and touch a nice Yixing teapot. Even better when I brew some nice tea, and slowly savour it with a friend or two.

I find peace when I am holding the fountain pen and writing in the diary, both from my lovely partner. 

I find peace when I take deep breaths and am honest with myself. *Breath*

 

The list could go on. But my point is that while the external environment affects our state of mind, and our perceived lack of physical peace, we can take actions to give ourselves a mental state of peace. Surely the physical and mental realms are intrinsically connected. But if we (mainly I) don't take any actions to make myself feel better, then what use is it being a fully physically active adult? 

Yes, physical peace is one of the hardest things to obtain in a mega city. But I can change my environment, I can work on my hobbies (I admit I'm very lucky to have so much time to do these), and we all can take deep breaths to have a clearer state of mind. *Breath*

 

To complain about things that are out of control is not going to change anything. To take action, however small, is better than nothing. But that's the most difficult part, actually doing something. Well, this has devolved into quite something else from the title. But it's okay, I think I feel peaceful enough now. I hope I can sleep. *Breath*

 

(I apologise if you feel targetted by the brusque pieces recently: they are written more for myself, but also things I thought I would share rather than just being in my diary. These pieces have been inspired by conversations with friends, and also some short essays. The keen reader might also notice that writing this piece was actually the precursor to the previous piece. I just went ahead and deleted the other paragraphs in the draft, then thought, why am I afraid to erase whatever progress I've made? 

At some point I will certainly write more about the American authors I've been reading. It's interesting finally reading more American literature; I like how forthcoming and direct their style of writing is. Except Hemingway, I can't stand him. Not sorry about it.)  

 

A beautiful book. From 'The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse'. 

 

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Music of choice:

A curated soundscape (kinda like ambient music) by my friend Man Po. Give it a listen here!