For years, I’ve carried a quiet vision.
It was a hope to grow existential therapy in Singapore beyond the therapy room. Not just as something that happens in weekly sessions, but as a way of living, relating, and becoming. A way of understanding ourselves not only by turning inward, but by stepping outward—into movement, into sound, into shared space with others.
There has always been a part of me that believed that insight does not only come from talking. Sometimes, it emerges from how we move, how we respond, how we encounter each other in real time.
It fills me with such deep joy (and a bit of awe) to say: It’s starting to happen!
On 4 June 2025, I took one step closer to that dream. Alongside three colleagues, Renee Chua, Evelyn Lee and Dr Simon Neo, we co-facilitated a one-day existential retreat in Singapore.
Each of us came from slightly different practices and do not all speak the same theoretical language but we each brought our own practice into the mix. I have always held a quiet conviction that what they offer speaks deeply to existence, sometimes in ways that words alone cannot fully capture.
Together, we created a space that was experiential, relational, and creative. A space where participants could explore what it means to exist, not just through thinking, but through being.
Not Just Thinking Minds but Sensing, Moving Bodies
Have you ever walked into a room and felt something shift in your body before your mind could explain it?
Your shoulders tighten slightly. Your breath changes. Something in you reacts, even before you have words for it. It just happened.
We often move through life as if we are primarily thinking beings, as though everything important happens in our minds. Much of what we call self-reflection leans in this direction. Journaling, analysing, making sense of our thoughts. Even talk therapy can sometimes stay within this space.
But we are not just thinking minds. We are sensing, moving, breathing bodies. And often, the body knows before we do.
What you feel in your body—tension, rhythm, stillness, breath—shapes your experience just as much as the thoughts you are able to articulate. Sometimes even more.
At the retreat, we explored this through movement. Not as performance, and not as something to get right, but as a way of paying attention.
We began noticing small but significant questions. What happens in my body when someone steps closer? How does my breathing change when I realise I am being seen? Can I stay grounded in myself when the energy around me shifts?
It was not about learning how to move. It was about noticing how we already move, and what that reveals about how we exist with others.
As people moved, slowed down, or held back, something subtle began to emerge. Not something dramatic or performative, but something honest. A recognition of who we become in the presence of others, and how we shift in response to them.
Connection Through Sound and Improvisation
This exploration did not stop at movement. It extended into sound.
Each of us reached for an instrument. Some familiar, others unfamiliar. Drums, bells, shakers, chimes. There was no conductor, no script, and no expectation of what the outcome should be.
We simply began.
One person started a rhythm. Another responded. Someone paused. Someone else broke the pattern entirely. And instead of disrupting the experience, it opened something new.
There were moments of harmony and moments of tension. Moments of silence that felt just as meaningful as sound. And through all of it, something real began to take shape.
We came to understand ourselves not through analysis, but through participation. Through the ways we moved, responded, and resonated with the people around us.
“In these moments, we come to understand ourselves not just by thinking or talking, but through the ways we move, are moved, and resonate with the world around us.”
Language Is Not Just Expression, It Shapes Us
At some point, we returned to something more familiar. Words.
But even here, something shifted.
Have you ever started explaining something, only to realise halfway through that you are discovering what you mean as you speak? That the clarity does not come before the words, but through them?
This is something we often overlook. We tend to think that we need to fully understand ourselves before we speak. But in reality, language is not just a tool for communication. It is part of how we come to know ourselves.
In a group process work, we gave ourselves permission to try—to name how we felt, to ask for support, to offer feedback, to say what we liked and what we didn’t. Sometimes we spoke from connection. Sometimes from disconnection. And sometimes, we didn’t speak at all.
At the retreat, we created space for participants to speak in ways that were not rehearsed or refined. Not polished. Not prepared. Just what felt true in the moment.
There were moments of connection, where words flowed easily. There were also moments of hesitation, where it felt difficult to find the right thing to say. And sometimes, there were no words at all.
But even silence became part of the conversation.
We began to notice how certain words carried weight. How the urge to comfort, withdraw, or reach out would surface in subtle ways. Even something as simple as imagining offering a hug became a reflection point. If that gesture had to be translated into words, what would we actually say?
Beneath all of this was a shared attempt. An attempt to reach toward each other honestly, even when it felt uncertain.
“Abracadabra— like magic but not it’s not just a magic word. Its ancient root means “I create as I speak.” And isn’t that what happens, too? As we speak, we discover what we mean, who we are, and how we want to shape our relationships.”
Understanding Your Lifeworld Through Experience
One of the core ideas in existential therapy is that each of us lives within our own “lifeworld.” This is not just about what is happening around us, but how we experience it.
It includes how we feel in our bodies, how we experience space, how time moves for us, and how we relate to others. These are not abstract concepts. They show up in everyday moments.
Think about a time when an hour passed in what felt like minutes. Or when a few minutes felt unbearably long. Think about walking into a room and immediately feeling either at ease or on edge, without knowing why.
These are all expressions of your lifeworld.
At the retreat, we explored this through a practice called existential body mapping. Instead of analysing experiences, participants were invited to express them visually. Using large sheets of paper, they drew outlines of the body and marked where they felt certain emotions or sensations.
What emerged was both deeply personal and surprisingly shared.
People noticed similar patterns. The push and pull between wanting connection and wanting to withdraw. The excitement of being seen, followed by the fear of being too much. The tension between taking up space and shrinking back without intending to.
These were real, embodied experiences of us being-in-the-world (existentialists love their hyphens—they use them to show that living, sensing, relating aren’t separate acts, but intertwined ways of existing).
At the same time, each person’s map was uniquely their own. It reflected how they experienced their body, their environment, their time, and their relationships.
And they reminded us how different each person’s lifeworld can be.
In existential terms, we sometimes describe this through four dimensions. Here’s a simple way to think about it:
- Lived body – how you feel in your body: your breath, posture, tension
- Lived space – how safe or exposed a place feels to you
- Lived time – whether time feels fast, slow, spacious, or stuck
- Lived relationality – how you feel with others: connected, ignored, included, alone
You are already living within this lifeworld, whether you notice it or not. But when you begin to pay attention to it, something shifts. You begin to understand yourself not by changing anything immediately, but by recognising how your experience unfolds moment by moment.
We Come to Know Ourselves Through Others
What stayed with me most from the retreat was not any single activity, but the experience of being with others in a shared space of exploration.
Each activity was chosen with care, like stars in a constellation. But what made our day meaningful was how we, the facilitators, also were participating fully. The way we responded to each other. The courage to show up. The willingness to be seen.
This retreat reminded me that we become ourselves through how we are with others. Through the hesitations, the resonance, the missteps, the repair.
We come closer to who we are by stepping toward each other—not perfectly, but honestly.
And I can’t wait to do it again.
Why Existential Retreats Matter
Experiences like this highlight something important about experiential therapy and existential retreats. Insight does not only come from thinking or talking. It also comes from doing, from sensing, and from being in relation.
For those who are used to traditional talk therapy, a retreat like this can feel unfamiliar at first. There is less structure, less certainty about what will happen. But within that uncertainty, there is also space for something real to emerge.
These retreats offer an opportunity to step outside of your usual patterns. To notice how you respond in real time. To explore parts of yourself that may not easily surface in conversation alone.
And perhaps most importantly, to experience yourself not as a fixed identity, but as something that is constantly unfolding in relation to others and the world around you.
Upcoming Existential Retreats in Singapore
If something in this resonates with you, even just a small sense of curiosity, you are not alone.
You might not fully know what you are looking for yet. You might just feel a pull toward something different. A space to explore yourself beyond words.
If that is the case, we would love to have you join us in future existential retreats in Singapore.
You can subscribe to our newsletter or follow us on social media for updates on upcoming sessions.
About the Author
I am a BPS-accredited and SPS-accredited Counselling Psychologist with a Doctorate in Existential Psychology from the New School of Psychotherapy and Counselling in London, U.K. My care philosophy is not to diagnose, label, or categorise but rather to work with the individual in front of me in the here and now.
My clinical credentials certainly play a significant role in defining my professional identity. But to foster a deeper connection and authenticity, I invite you to discover my other “Selves”, the various facets of who I am.
