From Day 11, Verging on Week 7: Finding My Rhythm

Days are quickly slipping into weeks and keeping up with uni work and regular blog posts is starting to blur into the haze of passing days.

A New Year’s Blessing at the Temple

Chinese New Year in Singapore was something I’ll never forget, especially my visit to the Buddhist temple in Chinatown. The air was thick with incense, the sound of chanting filled the space, and waves of people moved together in quiet reverence. I followed the crowd, swept up in the flow as we made our way toward the front of the temple, where a monk stood blessing each person with a gentle sprinkle of water over their head.

After receiving the blessing, I joined the next part of the ritual, offering 100 coins, one to each of the divine figures represented in stunning sculpture form around the perimeter of the temple’s interior. Each statue felt alive in its own way, carved with such intricate detail and presence. Moving from one to the next, offering a coin and a moment of reflection at each, felt like a meditation in motion, a beautiful merging of personal intention with ancient tradition.

It was humbling to be part of something so ancient and sacred, and to witness how deeply culture, spirituality, and celebration weave together here. That day, I felt both an observer and a participant, and it left me with a sense of connection, not only to this place and its people, but to something much greater.

Quiet Streets and Big Feelings

It’s Monday again and the city feels noticeably quieter. Some restaurants are closed, there’s fewer people, and the streets feel calmer, but red lanterns, flags and banners still hang everywhere in celebration. My uni schedule is lighter today and with the rain setting in, I’m spending the afternoon at home. A call with my honey, a wave of homesickness, and the reality of this big move is sinking in again.

Everything happened so fast before I left home. Packing up my life into boxes and a suitcase, organising everything in less than three weeks, and now here I am living in a foreign country where I don’t know anyone, don’t speak the language (thankfully English is common) and my family is far away. And my honey, still recovering from his brain surgery, feels even further. The emotions caught up with me today and I let them come. A big release, a full-body cry, and then meditation to let it all settle. It’s incredible how much lighter I feel after allowing emotions to move through me instead of holding them in. A deep nap followed, a true reset for the nervous system.

The timing of this emotional release felt fitting with the New Moon energy. A time for reflection, clearing and renewal. They say crying helps release stress hormones and I can feel it. A genuine shift. I feel clearer.

After that, I realised I need to prioritise more vegetables in my diet. Eating out is cheap here but the amount of vegetable oils, sugar and MSG is taking a toll on me. So I took a quick trip to the grocery store and made a simple stir fry—coconut oil, garlic, gluten-free soy sauce, a sliced omelette and a mix of greens, with yummy, organic rice noodles. It was the perfect balance after days of noodles, dumplings and soups.

Portfolios and Ramen Signs

Tuesday I got stuck into refining my portfolio. Somehow I’ve gone through 12 years in design without a proper portfolio so it feels like the right time. Looking back at my projects over the past decade, from my first design job in Cairns to my work with designers, engineers and architects across Melbourne, Sydney and Byron, it’s been a journey. So many lessons, so many incredible people who’ve guided me. Now I’m thinking about what’s next and manifesting a role that aligns with my purpose, something that lets me rethink design and shift the focus from human-centric to nature-centric.

That night, I was craving ramen. I usually avoid wheat noodles but thought I’d make an exception. Ordered online and after 45 minutes, it got cancelled. Tried again, same thing. Another hour, another cancellation. Clearly not meant to be. Ended up just eating whatever veggies were left in the fridge. The next day, I wandered into a local food market without thinking and spotted a ramen shop. Ordered without hesitation and just as I went to finalise, the option for rice noodles popped up. Full surrender and the universe delivered.

Biophilic Design and Lion Dancers

My focus this week has been my research into biophilic design, something I’ve been passionate about for years but now feels even more relevant living in such an urban environment. Biophilic design is about weaving nature into cities to make them more liveable, sustainable and restorative for both people and ecosystems. Singapore is leading the way with this, with projects like Gardens by the Bay, sky gardens and high-rise greenery that show how cities and nature can coexist. It’s more than just adding plants, it’s about creating whole ecosystems within the city—mini forests, nature corridors, canopy walkways and green walls that soften the concrete jungle and bring real benefits to health, biodiversity and climate resilience.

Halfway through my research, I heard loud drumming outside and caught flashes of red, orange and pink flickering between buildings. Lion dancers. I ran downstairs and there they were, performing right outside a restaurant near my place. The festival came right to my doorstep.

Returning to Rhythm

After the celebrations of Chinese New Year, campus life slowly settled back into its usual flow. One of my classmates returned from visiting his family in China and brought back his favourite tea to share with us. The joy on his face as he passed it around was contagious. There is something special about sharing tea from home. It feels like being invited into someone’s story, a small but meaningful gesture that connects us beyond words. Sitting together, tasting each sip, and talking about the subtle flavours felt like its own quiet ritual.

That week, I also visited Little India to pick up supplies for my pooja table. Candles, incense, and fresh flowers for my daily prayers and offerings. Walking through the vibrant streets lined with spice shops, sari stores, and gold jewellery stalls was a sensory feast. It reminded me how much I love this part of Singapore, a place where devotion and daily life weave together so naturally. These small rituals ground me, giving me something familiar to hold onto in a place that still feels so new. To top it all off, I made a quick stop for a masala dosa and, somewhat predictably, a masala chai. Naturally, I asked for no sugar, but then it wasn’t quite sweet enough. Typical me, forever chasing that ‘just right’ moment. Goldilocks over here!

While exploring I came across a beautiful old tea shop tucked away on a quieter street. Shelves were stacked high with tins and the air was thick with the scent of aged pu-erh and delicate white teas. As I wandered the shop owner struck up a conversation and invited me to join a private tea lesson happening that afternoon. It felt like one of those perfect moments where life gently nudges you toward exactly what you need.

We gathered in a small back room surrounded by walls covered in pressed tea bricks. I instantly fell in love with the texture. The earthy weathered blocks gave the space a sense of history and depth, a reminder that even simple materials can become something beautiful when used with care and creativity.

The lesson itself was more than just learning how to brew. We explored water temperature, steeping times and the art of truly tasting tea. But it felt like something deeper. It was meditation in motion. Slowing down and tuning in transformed an ordinary cup of tea into something sacred.

In between all these moments, there were pancakes. I made them one rainy morning when I needed a bit of home comfort. Cooking has always been a way for me to feel grounded, especially when life feels uncertain.

Later in the week, we visited the KPMG Wellness Garden, part of Singapore’s growing network of Therapeutic Gardens designed to support mental health and wellbeing. Hearing from the landscape architects at the National Parks Board gave me a whole new perspective on how design can actively support wellness. Every plant, every pathway, and every sensory element is chosen with care to create a space that encourages calm, restoration, and connection with nature. We carried out a visual quality audit using the Contemplative Landscape Model, and it made me realise how powerful small design decisions can be. It reinforced how much potential there is to create architectural spaces that actively care for human wellbeing.

As we move into the second half of the semester, I am excited to keep exploring these ideas with Professor Agnieszka Olszewska-Guizzo at Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts. Every experience here, from a shared cup of tea to a carefully designed garden, feels like another thread weaving into the kind of work I want to create.

The full moon has since passed, marking the end of Lunar New Year celebrations. Things are settling and I’m slowly finding my rhythm. I’ve tracked down some organic grocers, although everything organic here comes wrapped in plastic, which drives me mad. But plastic is everywhere so I remind myself that choosing organic is still the better option. It also makes me appreciate how much Australia is pushing to reduce single-use plastics, though we still have work to do.

To top it all off, two friends from home happened to be passing through Singapore this week. Seeing familiar faces, getting a big hug and sharing a meal felt like exactly what I needed. It was the perfect reminder that I’m not as far away as it sometimes feels.

The days feel more regular now, woven with my daily practices—meditation, tea, and movement. Each one helps me find balance and flow, grounding me in the present and guiding me toward a deeper sense of peace and purpose.