The chaotic path of a butterfly
3 min read
It was the beginning of my journey as a forest therapy guide. Becoming a guide meant spending lots of time alone in the forest to deepen my understanding of nature and encountering both my pleasures and fears. In the forest, you never quite know what will appear, but it always seems to offer exactly what you are ready for.
I had a love-hate relationship with butterflies. I adored how gentle and graceful they were in flight, but I could not bear the sight of caterpillars or any kind of worms. Because I was hypersensitive to touch, even the light brush of a dangling caterpillar would send me into instant hysteria - a wave of deep disgust and fear I couldn’t control.
It has happened to me a few times, and those moments lived on in my body as memory, making me avoid anything that might lead to another worm encounter. You can probably imagine what it is like for me to wander alone in nature - hyper-alert, tense and ready to leap at the slightest movement.
When I signed up to be a guide, I was ready to meet with my fears. The fears that kept me chained up, too scared to embrace the fullness of life.
In my early walks exploring Singapore’s parks, I was always drawn to the flight of birds and butterflies. Watching them often stirs a quiet longing in me - a desire to be free, unrestrained and true to myself. Living in a very organised society with clear definitions of success and worth, I found very little room to explore what it means to be me.
One encounter with a butterfly remains etched in me. I was tracking the path of a white butterfly, following it as it fluttered, turning when it turned, and changing directions every second step.
I found myself in a chaotic little dance around the grass patch, watching how the butterfly never flew straight, often changing its mind and switching directions. At first, I did not understand it. But as I dissolved into amused laughter, I realised how liberating it felt not to follow a set path.
The butterfly allows itself to change its mind often, to revisit old steps, to go forth and backtrack and to dance in circles. In the vast space of the air, there are no roads nor maps. It is free to take any routes, unrestricted. Chaotic as it appeared, but joyful it felt.
In the human world, changing our minds is often condemned. We are fixated on setting a goal and accomplishing it, pushing towards it at all costs. Those who reach their goals are praised for their grit and determination, and those who choose to give up on what they once committed to are seen as fickle-minded and weak-willed.
Living under this societal norm made it hard and frightening for me to walk away from something that I realised no longer fit. It kept me locked in, even after I had learnt enough about myself to know it no longer feels right, or after I had outgrown what once felt promising.
If a butterfly is allowed to be free and fly in any direction it wishes, why couldn’t I?
This encounter came exactly when I needed it. I was at a crossroads in my life, tired and drained from my office job, yet too afraid to try anything new. I drifted in limbo for six months before I could ask for a sabbatical break, and the forest therapy course came just at the right moment.
That gentle dance with the butterfly loosened one of the stubborn chains that kept me trapped. It reassured me that it was okay to choose differently, to leave the familiar and explore without rules.
Finally, chaos felt nice.
About Forest Therapy
Forest therapy is more than a walk in nature. It invites us into the larger web of life, where every encounter can offer quiet, invaluable lessons. What we notice often reflects the state of our inner garden, surfacing stories from the subconscious for us to meet gently. In those spontaneous moments lie the seeds of real breakthroughs.
Welcome to join a gentle forest bathing walk to discover your inner garden.
