A Leadership Reflection on Presence, Loss, and the Lessons Hidden in White Spaces

The Calm After a Crazy Week

Today is Sunday, 10 August 2025.

It feels strange to call it a restful day, because the past week has been anything but calm. I have moved between cities, flown to Sarawak for the Sustainable Development Award interviews, attended back-to-back events, and tried to hold the rhythm of family life together in between.

Now, for the first time in days, my body is relaxed. My mind is quiet. My spirit is grateful.

It has been forty days since our fourth child arrived. One month and ten days. The house has finally found a new routine. I am grateful for the blessing of a good helper who has made this adjustment possible. It is not just something I say politely. It is a real, grounded thankfulness that I feel each time I walk into a house that is still standing after another unpredictable day.

The paradox of achievement is that the more you get done, the more remains undone. There is always one more message to answer, one more task to complete, one more plan to prepare. That is why time for the people who matter most is not a luxury. It is essential.

Family, Community, and the Rivalry of Brothers

Today Eann was home. It was his turn to play the older brother, which at this age is a test of patience more than anything else.

Aden, my eldest, had spent the night before with Ryan and Yvonne. They have been a gift to our family, people who open their home and hearts to my children as if they were their own. My children are not raised by me and my wife alone. They are shaped by a community I have invested years in, and now that same community invests in my children.

Over lunch today, Aden said that his number one enemy is his younger brother. Without missing a beat, his younger brother replied that his number one enemy is Aden. They are sleeping rivals.

I could only laugh. Because when you live with something or someone every day, you forget their value. You take for granted the very thing you would miss if it were gone.

The Pattern of Loss and Realisation

This is not a new lesson for me.

When I left college, I realised I was no longer under my parents’ care. At first, the freedom was exciting. But there were days when I missed the safety of that umbrella.

When my eldest sister got married, I cried hard. She was my closest sibling, and it felt like losing a part of myself. Saying goodbye is hard. Yet staying together is also hard. The cycle repeats itself: we fail to treasure what is present until it slips into the past.

The COVID Contrast

When COVID lockdowns came, people longed for the day borders would reopen. Some lost loved ones. I cannot imagine the pain of those families. Had that happened to me, the pandemic would have been nothing but a wound.

My own COVID story was different. The lockdown gave me long stretches of time with my children. It was not peaceful all the time. Monday to Friday, I stayed with my parents. On weekends, my wife and I would bring the children to our own home.

I refused to keep them locked indoors. Every week we went somewhere. A park. A shop. Any open space. It took planning and energy, but those outings became some of my fondest memories.

When the world reopened, I was surprised by what I missed. I missed the slowness. I missed the simplicity.

Life Is Better When It Is Simple

The more we chase, the more undone tasks pile up. But a simple life has a different rhythm.

In a simple life, you can have more time than tasks. The problem is that the white spaces of life rarely remain empty. Social media is quick to fill them. It entertains, it distracts, but it also steals opportunities to connect deeply.

Travel is full of white spaces: waiting for flights, sitting in transit, lingering between events. On the SDA trip, I noticed how these moments could be used. Ryan read books. I edited my blog. We caught up at night in the hotel, over breakfast the next morning, and during the rides to and from the venue.

The official SDA program ran from 10 a.m. to 1 p.m. My interview was at 3:15 p.m. In those two hours, we could have drifted aimlessly. Instead, we sat down for a meal and a focused one-on-one conversation.

White spaces can either be lost or turned into something lasting.

The Problem With Winning and Losing

At SDA, I watched finalists who had travelled hours to be there, some flying from other states, only to spend their waiting time scrolling endlessly on their phones.

It made me ask myself: what was their purpose in coming? Was it just to show up? Or was it to learn, connect, and grow?

Ryan asked me a question I have carried since that day. “What if we lose?”

It is worth answering. Winning the first time is not always good. It can create a standard that makes losing in the future harder to accept. Losing early teaches resilience.

Lessons From Graduation Gowns

Think about the first time a child wears a graduation gown at age six. Then think about wearing one again at twenty. Which is harder?

Most would say the second. University work is demanding. But I believe the first is harder.

At six, a child must face separation anxiety, adapt to structure, and fail repeatedly before succeeding. Babies fall hundreds of times before they walk. That is where character is built.

If we lose at SDA, we gain perspective, humility, and a benchmark for the future. Loss can still be a form of winning.

When Loss Is Still a Win

Losing can push us to work harder and come back stronger. Winning can encourage and affirm the work done so far. Both carry risks. Winning can lead to complacency. Losing can lead to discouragement.

In both cases, the responsibility is the same. Learn from it. Protect the culture. Keep moving forward.

Parenting in a Different Season

When Aden was a baby, I often felt irritated when he cried or left his milk unfinished. I would try to push him to finish just to get it over with.

By the fourth child, my perspective is different. Sometimes I record the crying on video because I know the sound will not last forever. I pause when the baby fusses. I comfort first, wait for a burp, then continue feeding.

Last night, I woke twice to feed the baby. I was tired from a long day of coaching and travel. But I chose to do it because I knew I could rest today. Awareness changes the experience. I do not want to wait until it is over to realise I should have cherished it.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

The opposite of grateful is forgetful.

We do not need a trophy to prove our worth. A healthy body. A peaceful mind. A loving family. These are the real prizes. Everything else fades.

Win or lose at SDA, I know this: the most precious things are often the very ones we complain about. The real question is whether we will notice them while they are still here.

Call to Action: This week, choose one thing in your daily life that frustrates you, yet you know you will miss it one day. Treat it as if it were already gone. See how it changes the way you feel.