The family thread that does not leave you alone

21 December 2025. 冬至.

It feels like a day that asks you to slow down. Like Chinese New Year, but without the fireworks. I spent time with my parents and spent time with my in-laws. The year is ending, and the countdown does something to your heart. You start cherishing small moments because you can feel how quickly they disappear.

One thing hit me harder than usual.

My father has outlived both my grandparents, on both my dad and my mom’s side. On average, men have shorter lifespans. But why are we always framed by average? Why do we let ordinary become a ceiling?

My father did something not many people from his hometown do. He left a small hometown called Pancho and brought the family to Kuala Lumpur. He ran business. Raised family. And the rest is history.

My grandfather did something more ordinary. He inherited wealth and chose to play safe.

Then I think about my great-grandfather. He chose the extraordinary path too. They came from China to Malaysia, migrated. Xia Nang Yang. Life in China was terrible, so he chose to come over here and became a very successful, legendary businessman.

Three generations, three choices.

And it keeps pointing to one uncomfortable truth. Extraordinary lives are rarely built by one heroic moment. They are built by the kind of decisions that look boring, repetitive, even unimpressive, until you zoom out far enough.

Most people underestimate this because they think they are living by decisions. But a huge chunk of daily life is actually lived by routine. Not inspiration. Not willpower. Just the default setting you repeat.

Why “habit” might be the most underrated word in the room

We talk about miracles. We talk about purpose. We talk about leadership. We talk about new things.

But what about habits?

Habit feels like a small word. Almost unspiritual. Almost too normal. But it is the soil to everything else in life.

People love the idea of breakthroughs, but neglect the ground that makes breakthroughs possible. We want fruit without tending the soil. We want a better life without a better rhythm.

That is why the Bible’s warning about the man who hid his coin under the ground keeps coming back to me. The master did not praise his caution. He got angry. He called him lazy. Even a bank would have produced interest. Hiding it was not wisdom. It was fear dressed up as prudence.

The safest choice can quietly become the riskiest choice, because it stops growth.

Loki, the leash, and the proof that discipline is formed, not forced

Let me tell you what made this real for me.

I put on the leash on my poodle, Loki.

He was excited because I missed walking him yesterday, which means I missed the reflection yesterday. He has become surprisingly consistent. By around 10 p.m., he starts giving me signals, making noise, letting me know it is time.

That alone tells you something. When a pattern becomes a habit, it stops relying on motivation. It starts pulling you forward.

That night I did something different. I did not hold the leash while I was putting my weight on my leg before I walk. I just clipped the leash and let him go a little bit far from me.

This matters because Loki is a crazy dog. Hyperactive is an understatement. The moment he sees an opportunity, he will dash out. I live in a gateless community. When he dashes out, I have to rely on the community WhatsApp to know where he is. Later, I put an AirTag specially for him so I could trace him.

Now imagine this.

He is already out. He could run. He knows I am not ready. He knows I cannot catch him.

But he sat there, quietly waiting for me.

He was tempted, but he waited.

That habit was built only recently, a few months ago. Which means this is not personality. This is formation. Repetition. A new normal.

At my main door there is a simple note written by my children. “Keep the door closed.” That note exists because one small habit, leaving a door open, can create a big problem.

This is what I love about habits. They do not look impressive while they are being formed. But once they are formed, they start protecting you without needing a dramatic rescue.

True discipline shows up when no one is holding the leash.

Seasons, not binary thinking

This is where Ecclesiastes 7 started echoing in me again.

There is a time for everything.

Season is another underrated word.

A lot of people operate in binary mode. Yes or no. Black or white. Right or wrong. With me or against me. Some principles do need to be held firmly. If you kill people, you are wrong.

But even then, context matters. If you kill one person to prevent him from killing 1,000 people, that is a different context. If your story is reversed and the 1,000 are the murderers, then killing the one becomes wrong again.

The point is not the example.

The point is this: wisdom does not live well in binary. Wisdom lives well in season.

Garmin, body battery, and the trap of chasing the number

This season-thinking became personal when I got a Garmin watch.

I used to wear Apple Watch. Mine died about a year after I bought it. I was frustrated and ditched it, switched to Garmin. I gained so much more, especially this function that tracks body battery.

At first I thought, how would you even measure body battery? But it is strangely accurate. When it is low, I feel tired. When it is high, I feel energetic. Sometimes without checking the watch, I feel exhausted, then I look and see, no wonder, it is low.

It started making me paranoid.

I have a habit of charging my phone. I cannot stand seeing it drop to 20% early in the day. I need it full. Power bank standby. Phone feels important.

But the body is not a phone. You cannot plug it in and fix it. Sleep is the only real charger, and even that is not fully in your control. Naps barely move the needle. A stressful conversation drains you fast. A heavy meal drains you fast. A workout drains you fast.

Then I noticed something.

If I do not work out that day, my body battery drops slower.

So if I chase the metric, the “smart” move is to do nothing.

But we all know that is not life.

There is a hidden leadership lesson here. If your goal is to protect your battery at all cost, you will avoid meaningful work, avoid hard conversations, avoid growth. You will preserve energy and lose purpose.

A full battery with an empty life is still depletion.

Sacrifice is not always unhealthy

There are seasons where you must drain.

I remember one of Malaysia’s elections, we stayed up waiting for results. It was announced only the next day. That night felt heavy. It was the first time Barisan Nasional did not rule, and Pakatan Harapan became government. Mahathir became Prime Minister again.

I remember him telling the press none of them slept. A man near 100 years old staying up through the night.

That made me think.

Some people pay extreme attention to sleep, but their lifestyle still destroys them early. Others lose sleep for moments that matter, then return to restoration.

Not all tiredness is unhealthy.

Some exhaustion is the cost of showing up when it matters.

There is a time for everything.

Work-life balance is a nice phrase, but season is more honest

I always hear “work-life balance.”

But balance is not daily symmetry.

A better word is priority.

There are seasons where you arrive early and leave late. Sports day is not a normal day. You do not say, my work is only until 5, I need to go. If you do that, you are not protecting boundaries, you are abandoning the season.

There are seasons where you pull back, like when your wife gives birth. You skip workouts. You become present. If there are complications, you become even more present.

There are seasons where you are injured and you stop. You recover.

If you force the same standard on every week of your life, you will either burn out or become bitter. Rigidity feels principled, but it often hides laziness of thought.

Faithfulness looks different in different seasons.

Ecclesiastes 7, the quiet backbone

This is why Ecclesiastes 7 keeps capturing my heart even when my head cannot fully understand it.

It does not promise control. It teaches discernment.

It warns against extremes.
It honours patience.
It tells you to accept that some things are crooked.
It reminds you that life is not always fair.
It teaches you to stop living in nostalgia.
It shows you that wisdom is protection.

And underneath it all is this anchor.

There is a time for everything.

Wisdom is not knowing what to do.
Wisdom is knowing when.

Reverse that redefines it all

Most people do not fail because they lack goals.

They fail because they try to live one way in every season.

They try to keep a full battery all the time. They try to keep balance every day. They try to make life binary, clean, predictable.

But life is not a spreadsheet. It is a season.

The extraordinary life is not built by extraordinary intensity.
It is built quietly, through ordinary habits, lived faithfully, in the right season.