The Butterfly Garden
The butterflies fly in spirals toward the glass ceiling with incredible energy, striving with determination to find a patch in the alluring sky in which they can escape.
I watched one individual for an entire 5 minutes as it tried to enter the sky at innumerable points on the ceiling of the garden.
The majority of flying butterflies are trying to escape. Only when they run out of energy do they slowly spiral down towards the people below to rest on a leaf, feed, and try it all again.
The butterflies would most likely be escaping to their death of course. High winds, aircraft and a lack of the specific climber plant that they eat would give them little chance to survive out of their Eden. An Eden as they have everything a butterfly might like to thrive: food, water, low wind, shelter, mates and no predators save the occasional curious child.
But the butterflies will never stop trying. The drive to spread and diversify is completely hardwired.
I wonder if Singapore itself is like the butterfly garden.
Incredibly safe, orderly, clean and with everything a human should supposably want in a city. But the immigration card in my hand speaks to a kind of conscious ceiling that Singapore won't tolerate - the penalty for drug trafficking is death. Ascending above the state approved ceiling of consciousness is not allowed here.
And the distinct lack of edge and chaos here is disconcerting. Nature diversifies itself as much as possible. This of course comes with risk, but that risk has been worth the 3.8 billion years life has existed on the planet unabated. I wonder if too much orderliness within minds and conscious experience may prove to be maladaptive.
Only time will tell.