A Gentle Migration: Notes From a Morning of Being Alone, Together
Written by Clarice Song, fellow field trippers
I used to think I disliked being in social environments; the networkings, the mixers, the events where everyone seems to arrive in packs and perform a version of themselves. But maybe I never hated the people. Maybe I just longed for spaces that allowed us to belong without performing, to be with others without losing the ability to be with ourselves.
This morning, eight strangers gathered in the far west, answering a call to explore The Great Migration. The idea came from a TikTok clip of animals moving with the seasons; we wondered what it might mean for humans to migrate gently back to themselves. Folks came from as far as Sengkang and Tampines, not for an agenda, but for the permission to simply be.
“My friend will be late. I hope the email meant it when it said ‘unhurried’.”
I laughed. “Of course. Today is meant to be slow.”
There was no real programme;only a gentle walk to a different space, a soft migration towards a pocket of time for oneself.
We waited. The tribe formed.
With journals and camping chairs in hand, we wandered to a hidden gem five minutes from Bold At Work ;a spot first discovered by Khloe during Parking Day. While everyone was admiring the dusk sky back then, Khloe noticed something else: a portal-like entry framed by two tall pine trees. A quiet passageway that felt like it was waiting for us.
That became our morning home.
Khloe guided us across a threshold built from whatever we could gather; pine pieces, acorn-like seeds, coconut husks; arranged into one of the prettiest little passages we’ve ever leapt over. We shook off the week, shook into the moment, and settled into the new space.
Some doodled.
Some read books newly purchased.
Some wandered off for small walks.
I dragged my camping chair to face the long-kang “waterfront,” where Khloe joined later, and we tinkered with our isometric stickers until the urge to stop arrived, that instinct to just let the world in.
The leaf-blower man.
Workers knocking out light bulbs from street lamps.
Uncles on bicycles.
Runners passing through.
Red ants, crickets, butterflies.
A heron gliding over the water.
By 11am, we had been alone-together for nearly two hours.
In true Time Off Field Trip fashion, we closed with a circle, sharing words that surfaced from the slow:
alone but together
parallel play
ceremonious life
living intricately
rituals and routines
migrating inward
slow but busy
sounds amplified
thinking differently when slowed
a gentle pat from the leaves
No one wanted to leave. If not for the noon sun inching into our shade, we might have stayed indefinitely. But a gentle migration is not an escape - it is a passage. And every passage eventually asks us to return.
We crossed back over the threshold, back to Bold At Work, carrying with us whatever had quietly rearranged inside.
Back “home,” something unexpected happened. The response to co-create; to build small rituals, micro-adventures, intention bracelets, community cat walks, coffee moments; was alive in a way I hadn’t seen in previous field trips. It felt like everyone had more capacity, more spaciousness, for themselves and for one another.
There was no need for frills or fixed plans. Just an unspoken commitment to play, to be, and to design more ceremonial, more intricate ways of living.
If this resonates with how you see yourself, or how you want to live, then perhaps we’ll meet at the next Time Off Field Trip and migrate gently together again.
