Located in Pontian, Johor Bahru, it’s a quiet ‘floating’ village on stilts where life is simple. The locals sit idly and go about their days slowly.

Walking through the streets, you’ll find that their front doors and windows are all open. It feels like you could just walk into their house and open their fridge… and they wouldn’t mind.

There are no cars because the lanes are like a labyrinth – narrow and surrounded by water – so people just zip around on motorized bikes.

Like many rural areas, there’s a certain sense of calm groundedness in the air.

Unlike the full battery-charged speed of material-obsessed cities, these sleepy villages possess a certain charm.

One that makes you feel at ease. Just a simple walk through the village makes you think about how satisfying life could be if we stripped away all the excess and only lived on what we need.

And how the joys of life are usually the simplest ones.

Most of all, the people are very present, welcoming and are not bogged down by stress.

When I returned to Singapore, the air changes completely.

It’s like there’s a fog of tension in the air – one that demands action, movement, productivity.

The mist of calm groundedness I felt hours ago disappears and I’m already thinking of what to do, what I should be doing, and why I haven’t done those things.

And then I wonder: is life really meant to be filled in with non-stop, endless action?

Is the value of your time dependent on how much you successful occupy your time with productive things?

What if you lived in a quiet fishing village in Kukup where time passes by much slower and you lived in the present moment?

Does that make your time less valuable because you’re not as ‘productive’ as the city-folk?

Which begs the question: what is the best way to make the most of your time? 

Is it by being productive (working, hustling, being busy working for something in the future) or being present (taking time to savour life right now, slowing down to smell the roses)? 

Is it through filling up your schedule with more things to get done?

Or by having fewer things on your schedule but ensuring that you experience them fully?

All I can say is that we’re called human ‘beings’, not human ‘doings’. 

If like me, you’ve been on a frantic chase to do more, do more, do more – then ask yourself: ‘at the end of my life, would this be what I’d like to look back on?’

Is my life a mindless rush to pile on more things to get done? Or is my life a beautiful journey where I experienced the sweetness of living, every single day?

Let me know what you think.