Leadership in Transition: What GLS and Life Reminded Me on May 2, 2025
Tonight, it’s just me and my dog Loki. The stars are out, the streets quiet, and I’m walking off a day filled with reflection. It’s already 11:16 p.m. A long day, but one that deserves to be recorded.
The End of an Era
As of May 1, 2025, Malaysia officially revoked the extension order declaring the country a COVID-19 infected zone. It’s a symbolic end to a challenging chapter. But the lessons remain.
This backdrop made today’s Global Leadership Summit (GLS) session feel even more meaningful. Not just because we’re finally post-pandemic, but because the real leadership test is only just beginning—rebuilding community, character, and culture, one decision at a time.
From Breakfast Tables to Bigger Tables
The day started with two breakfasts, two tables, one Daniel. Coaches at one, friends at another. Years ago, when I hosted my first company dinner at 26, I floated from table to table purely out of formality. Smile, shake hands, check the box.
But today? It was integration. One table, I shared updates and sparked ideas. At the other, we talked dreams and transitions. No pretense. Just presence. That shift from formality to intentionality—maybe that’s one of the markers of leadership maturity.
Beyond Transactional Relationships
Later, I received a few calls. Some informed me they could no longer continue with my services. They were apologetic. But I wasn’t hurt. I told them, “Our relationship is beyond transaction.” And I meant it.
We’re not building a business; we’re building a movement. The kind that shapes community. One where giving back isn’t about trophies or recognition, but about legacy.
The Summit: Lessons from Coach K
Today’s GLS speaker was Mike Krzyzewski—Coach K. Basketball isn’t my game, but leadership is. And while I couldn’t resonate with the sport, I dug into the heart behind his message: victory through teamwork.
He spoke about the 3 A’s (plus 1):
- Agility
- Adaptability (especially in how we communicate)
- Accountability
- Attitude
And he shared two coaching pillars: Create Standards. Define Values.
But what struck me most was his use of multiplier questions. That triggered my research into Liz Wiseman’s Multiplier Framework—a leadership model that differentiates between leaders who multiply capacity and those who diminish it.
Multipliers vs. Diminishers
Multipliers:
- Ask questions like “What do you think?”
- Stretch people beyond what they think they’re capable of.
- Give meaningful ownership, not just tasks.
- Invite diverse thinking.
Diminishers:
- Need to be the smartest in the room.
- Solve problems too quickly.
- Speak more than they listen.
- Micromanage execution.
The shift is subtle but seismic: are we shining a spotlight on ourselves, or being a lamplight that helps others see?
Five Multiplier Practices
- Attract and Optimize Talent – Ask: What do you do with ease that others find hard?
- Create Intensity That Requires Best Thinking – Ask: What’s your best thinking on this?
- Extend Challenges – Ask: What’s the real problem to solve here?
- Debate Decisions Openly – Ask: What options are we missing?
- Instill Ownership – Ask: What will you own and how will you know it worked?
These aren’t just good questions. They’re culture-shaping ones.
Am I a Multiplier?
As I walked back from the session, I asked myself:
- Am I multiplying or diminishing today?
- Where am I over-directing instead of asking?
- What genius have I not yet named or nurtured in others?
My Story of Agility
When it came time to reflect on which “A” resonated most, I chose Agility. In Chinese, we call it 打不死的蟑螂—the cockroach that won’t die. Resilience not by glamour, but by grit.
My mind went back to Melbourne, 2011. I made a silent vow: I wouldn’t take a cent from my parents during my master’s degree. I saved, scrimped, hustled, and when I landed, I realized how wrong I was about my budget. I had two weeks of cash left. Rent. WiFi. SIM card. Cleaning supplies. Utensils. I was overwhelmed.
So I did what agility requires: I adapted. I found underpaid, under-the-table work far outside the city. I shared lunch with beggars at Hungry Jack’s. I flyered the streets. I counted traffic. I picked people up from the airport. Eventually, I taught accounting and brought my parents out for dinner. And at the end of it all, I handed my grandmother a red envelope of U.S. dollars. Not because it was much, but because it was everything I had.
Agility is earned in those moments—not in comfort, but in crisis. Not in Hawaii on a beach, but on a frozen Melbourne street at 5 a.m.
Photographer’s Agility
Even as a wedding photographer, I learned agility. Nothing goes as planned—schedules shift, lighting fails, emotions run high. But you pivot. You adapt. You deliver.
That’s why I’m not fazed anymore when things don’t go according to plan. Because they never did. And maybe that’s the plan.
The Final Supper
After the session, we all ended up at McDonald’s. For a moment, it felt like the pre-COVID era—laughing, munching, reconnecting. That’s when I realized:
We don’t just survive seasons of pressure. We are shaped by them.
And now, as May unfolds, we enter a new era—not just nationally, but personally. A season where pressure doesn’t break us. It refines us.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
Most people believe leaders rise by being louder, faster, and more impressive.
But real leadership is quiet. It’s not in having all the answers. It’s in asking the right questions.
It’s not multiplying tasks. It’s multiplying people.
So tonight, under the stars, with Loki by my side, I ask:
What kind of leader am I becoming?
And more importantly… what kind of leaders am I raising?
A day worth living.
Good night.
