The Journey from Isolation to Joyful Giving

The Paradox of Individualism vs. Community

We often glorify the individual. Independence. Privacy. Achievement. For much of my life, that was the story I lived. I believed that if I could provide for myself and my family, then I was secure. I thought strength meant keeping to myself, focusing on my own snow in front of the door, and never worrying about the snow on my neighbour’s roof.

But here is the paradox I have discovered. Individualism promises freedom, yet it often leaves us trapped in fear. Community, on the other hand, requires vulnerability, sacrifice, and risk, but it delivers fulfilment and joy far greater than what individualism can offer.

Tonight, after a simple walk and a meal of steamboat with a group of visitors from KL, this truth came alive again. They were developers and marketers. We run schools. At first glance, our industries are different. But at the core, we are all in the same business: community building.

The word “community” has become a buzzword. Even property developers who have not launched anything yet, who are still staring at empty plots of land, will boldly declare: “We are building communities.” But what is community, really? What is its essence? And why did it take me decades, and a crucible moment of pain, to finally embrace it?

From Isolation to Struggle

My upbringing shaped me to be private, guarded, and achievement-driven. I studied in a Chinese school where we were trained to fight for personal results. Group work felt like nonsense. Why should I share with my peers? Success was measured individually. I was taught that all that mattered was my own score, my own future, my own survival.

So when I went to Monash University, I could not fit in. My peers must have seen me as a freak, self-absorbed, detached, almost non-existent in the community. I only cared about myself. I did not believe anyone else would care for me, and so I did not see the point of caring for them.

Later, when I was running a company that was profitable, I thought I had everything I needed to start a family. I had financial stability. That was all I thought mattered. So I got married.

But not long after, I was hit by a devastating workplace crisis. Every day felt like torture. Eight hours at work was unbearable. I wanted to quit, but I could not. I had just formed a family. I was desperate, trapped between financial security and personal despair.

In that season, I was nothing but a receiver. I gave results at work, and I received financial reward. But I was empty. My so-called independence had become a prison.

The Mentor Who Changed Everything

Then came my mentor, Dato’ Peter. What stood out was not his title or success, but his vulnerability. He entered my life not to take, but to give. He asked: “How can I add value to you? How can I journey with you?” His hope was that one day I would rise to mentor others.

At that time, I did not even believe I had the potential to impact anyone. But he embraced me, patiently, vulnerably. And eventually, he gave me the courage to leave my company, to release my grip on financial security and begin something new. That was the birth of Stellar.

At first, I was still mostly a receiver. I was embraced by his community, supported by his network, lifted by his wisdom. But one day, I prayed to God: “Send me just one mentee. One person I can take care of.”

Almost immediately, God answered. A young man who had just gone through a breakup came into my life. I promised to journey with him. That was my first taste of giving in community.

Then came a second mentee. Then a small group. And slowly, I realised I was mirroring exactly what my mentor had done for me: building community through vulnerability, contribution, and commitment.

What Community Really Means

To me, community is the family beyond blood. It is the extension of family, where people love, care, and hurt together, not because of obligation, but because of choice.

Sociologists define community as a group bound by shared location or heritage. But the lived truth goes deeper. A community is people bound by common interest, committed to contributing, and willing to stay through the ups and downs.

In Melbourne, I first saw this lived out. Festivals like Moomba, the Comedy Festival, and countless multicultural celebrations were more than entertainment. They were rituals of belonging. Even the Malaysian student community, no matter which university you came from, if you were from Malaysia, you belonged.

The same truth appears around the world in intentional co-living movements. In Denmark, families created cohousing villages where each has their own home, yet they share meals, gardens, and communal halls. In Israel, the kibbutz pioneered child-raising and resource-sharing as a way of life. Today, modern start-ups in cities like New York and London design co-living apartments where strangers become neighbours, and neighbours become a family of choice. These models, whether old or new, echo the same principle: life is richer when it is lived together.

That is the first key of community: Common Interest. Without it, you are just a crowd. With it, you have the soil where something can grow.

Contribution: The Joy of Giving

The second key is Contribution. Too many join communities as takers. They come to consume, not to serve. But true community requires generosity. As John Maxwell puts it in his Law of Addition, leaders add value by serving others.

I experienced this firsthand. In our small group of six what I call the “power core”, each one found a way to give. Some cooked meals. Some prepared venues. Some provided spiritual guidance. Each gave according to their strength. And because of that, the six could serve fifty, and the fifty could one day become sixty or more.

Contribution is the lifeblood of every true community. It is why eco-villages like Findhorn in Scotland or Auroville in India have endured for decades. They are not built on consumption but on each member asking, “What can I bring to the table?” The same is true for us. Without giving, community remains an empty word. With giving, it becomes a living organism.

It is the same in nature. One bee is fragile, but a hive thrives because each contributes, some gather nectar, some guard the entrance, some tend the young. In community, the small acts of giving are what make the whole unshakeable.

Commitment Beyond Comfort

The third key is Commitment. Communities are tested when things get hard, when misunderstandings arise, when people disappoint each other. Without commitment, people walk away. With commitment, people reconcile and grow.

I had to learn this painfully. I am hard on myself, which means I was also hard on others. People saw me as pushy. That created tension. But through tough conversations, reconciliation, and staying present, we discovered the resilience of community.

Modern models like the Israeli kibbutz show the same truth. By committing to raise children together and share resources, they produced resilience that no single family could achieve alone. Commitment multiplies strength.

Here is the paradox: Community often feels like a cost at first. You give your time, your energy, your vulnerability. But over time, you realise the truth: Community is the greatest multiplier of joy.

Our six core leaders did not just serve fifty. They cultivated fifty to one day serve others. That is how addition turns into multiplication.

It is why I say: the real equation of community is not six to thirty to sixty. It is six to six more givers to an infinite ripple.

A Call to Belonging

If you have been living privately, guarding yourself, believing you must preserve your independence, I know how that feels. But I also know this. Privacy without community eventually becomes emptiness.

The first step is simple. Find a common interest. Whether it is faith, parenting, gardening, or even snakes, shared passion is the soil.

Ask what you can give. Do not just ask what you will get. Communities thrive when everyone brings their gift.

Commit. Choose to stay, especially when it is hard. That is when belonging becomes real.

Today, after ten years of community building, I can say this with confidence. It has become a joy. My children are cared for by this extended family. My weekends feel like vacations because of the people around me. What started with one mentor, then one mentee, has become a movement.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

The opposite of community is not loneliness. It is self-preservation.

When you guard yourself too tightly, refuse to give, and cling to privacy, you may feel safe, but you starve yourself of joy. Only when you risk vulnerability, step into contribution, and commit beyond comfort will you discover the magic of community.

Because at the end of the day, it is more blessed to give than to receive. And in community, giving multiplies until it overflows back into your life.