Singapore Reflections, Parenting, Death, and the Future of Legacy
One Trip, Five Purposes: Integrated Living in Action
We were in Singapore today—our whole family, together with Samuel and his family. The original plan was simple: send them to the airport. But I’ve never been one to do just one thing with a whole day. That’s a poor use of time.
If a trip can serve five purposes, why settle for one?
That’s how I live: one effort, multiple outcomes. It’s not just efficiency—it’s philosophy. It’s part of what I call the 1,000-Year Life Framework.
There are two ways to live a thousand years:
- Do work in one lifetime that impacts generations.
- Live an integrated life, not a compartmentalized one.
Work-life harmony doesn’t mean a blurred mess. It means intentional boundaries with clarity—the wisdom to know what to keep separate, and what to weave together. And for me, the central domino is family.
Because legacy isn’t something we prepare for later—it’s something we build now.
Parenting in Transit: Situational Leadership from the Back Seat
Today’s trip had five purposes:
- Send Samuel, Grace, and their baby to the airport.
- Attend a meeting with a potential collaborator.
- Pass some items to my sister and have lunch with her family.
- Pay my respects at a wake service.
- Use every moment as a parenting opportunity.
In the car, my kids grew restless during the meeting. They interrupted. Ran around. Normal. But I didn’t scold—I coached.
“What did you do well today?” I asked.
“We helped each other. We played together.”
“What could be better?”
“We didn’t eat fast enough.”
So I told them, “Not every meal needs to be fast. Sometimes, slow is better.”
That’s situational leadership. Values aren’t one-size-fits-all. Speed isn’t always a virtue. Stillness has value too.
Later, I asked, “Where were you just now? In your own room or a public place? Did you play with a loud voice or a soft one?”
They said, “In a café. We were loud.”
“So how should we behave in public?”
“Be considerate,” they answered.
And when they interrupted again, I didn’t lose my patience. I said, “It’s okay. Daddy’s not angry. Just try saying, ‘Excuse me’ next time. Ask before speaking.”
That’s legacy-in-the-moment. It doesn’t happen on stage. It happens in cars, in cafés, in real time.
Conflict in the MPV: Raising Voices, Raising Empathy
Later, Aden got into a fight with his siblings in the car. I raised my voice—not in anger, but just to get his attention.
He thought I was scolding him. He grew quiet. Withdrawn.
I asked him to draw how he felt. He sketched an angry face.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“There are a lot of bad words in my mind,” he replied.
“Thank you for being honest,” I said. “Are you ready to forgive Daddy?”
“Not now,” he answered.
And that was enough.
Later, outside the café, he came around. I told him gently, “I wasn’t angry. I raised my voice because I thought you couldn’t hear me.” I asked, “Can you forgive Daddy… for making you feel like I was yelling?”
He said yes.
That’s leadership. That’s legacy. Not preaching from a platform—but walking it out on the ground. Every small act, every repair, builds something lasting.
Legacy in Action: Integrate, Multiply, Document
Looking back, today wasn’t just “efficient.” It was intentional.
Five purposes in one trip. But more than that—I coached my children, modeled forgiveness, taught empathy, and reflected.
And now, I’m documenting it.
Why? Because memory fades. But stories—when recorded—can last generations.
This is how I live my 1,000-year life:
Integrate. Multiply. Preserve.
Build legacy today, not someday.
Wake Service and Speechlessness: When Death Stops Us
It’s now 6:16 p.m. I just got back from the wake service of my friend’s sister. She was 41.
I didn’t even know she had cancer. Only guessed it from some old photos online.
What can I say?
I… really don’t know what to say.
I just stood there, thinking of my own sister. Same age. Same drive. Same strength.
She didn’t live like someone sick. She cycled. She laughed. She inspired others—even during chemo. She chased treatment in China. She radiated life.
And now, she’s gone.
She was the magnet—connecting cycling groups, pet lovers, families. Her life wasn’t long, but it was full.
The Hardest Truth: You Will Never Know When
If tonight taught me anything, it’s this:
We don’t get to know how long we have.
Some get 5 years. Some 100. Some not even one.
Would I want to know my time?
No. That would be torture—living every day with a countdown clock. That’s not living. That’s surviving.
So I choose to live ready. Each day. Every day.
That’s why I reflect. Why I write. Why I document—so if I’m gone, there’s still something of me here.
Because legacy isn’t left behind. It’s passed forward—intentionally.
Legacy in the Age of AI: Predicting My Voice, Preserving My Heart
One day, AI might plug into my WhatsApp. It’ll analyze 20 years of chats. See how I spoke to my wife. How I coached my children. What I said when no one was watching.
It’ll read this article—and hundreds like it.
It will know:
- What I valued.
- How I made decisions.
- What mattered most.
So even if I’m not around, maybe this digital version of me can guide them.
Not just my voice—but my heart.
That’s why I write.
For legacy.
For continuity.
For love.
Meaningful Meetings: The Drama of a Purposeful Life
Earlier, I had a meeting with Mr. Tan. It opened up a network I didn’t expect:
- An international school owner.
- The director of Singapore’s examination board.
- The CEO of a university.
You don’t stumble upon people like that. You don’t cold-call them for coffee.
But when your mission is bigger than you, people show up.
Not because of you, but because of the impact.
That’s why I say: there’s no drama without a mission.
Ordinary life without purpose is flat.
But purpose turns your life into a film worth watching.
Two Kinds of People Who Get Help from the Greats
Only two groups get access to great mentors:
- The underprivileged—who show hunger and potential.
- The worthy—who are already building something meaningful.
Great mentors don’t raise pets. They raise people.
If you want help from giants, give them a reason to believe you’ll grow tall.
To My Friend: Grief, Love, and the Slow Return
To my brother who just lost his sister:
I wish this didn’t happen.
I wish this was just a nightmare.
I wish—when you wake—she’s still here.
But she’s not.
So take your time. Mourn slow.
Don’t rush to be okay.
Take care of yourself.
Take care of your people.
Take care of your heart.
I wish you peace.
I wish you meaning.
I wish you healing.
Closing Reflection: The Quiet Power of a Purposeful Life
I’m so content.
Not because I’ve done everything.
But because I’ve lived what matters.
If I die tomorrow, I’ve lived well.
If I’m gone early, I’ve planted seeds.
If I vanish, my children will still hear my heart—in words, in memories, in love.
That… is enough.
Legacy Echo: A Future Glimpse
One day, my children might find this article—
Buried in a folder, on a device long forgotten.
And as they read, I hope they smile.
Because they’ll know—
Dad didn’t just love them.
He prepared them.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
Most people think legacy begins when life ends.
But the truth is:
Legacy isn’t what you leave behind when you’re gone.
It’s what you build while you’re still here.
Every ordinary moment is an opportunity to live extraordinarily.
And that…
is a life well-lived.
Leave a Reply