The Shared Highway
It was September in Kuching, and my schedule was packed with more than I thought humanly possible. In two short days, I was juggling ministry, business, family, leadership, and a birthday surprise for my wife, all while carrying the weight of a newborn’s luggage that seemed heavier than all of ours combined.
Some would say, “Just focus on one thing at a time.” But what if life is not a one-lane road? What if life is a shared highway?
I used to believe productivity meant segmenting everything neatly: work during work, family during family, ministry on Sunday. That was safe. Predictable. But Kuching taught me that life rarely comes in neat lanes. On this trip, six different “cars” entered the same highway at once:
- Ministry: visiting Every Nation Church Kuching, encouraging the team, and giving updates on ENJB.
- Business: attending the Sustainable Development Awards gala with my team and explore collaborations opportunity.
- Leadership: arranging a corporate talk so my people could gain exposure and growth.
- Family: bringing three young boys and a two-month-old baby along, despite the chaos.
- Romance: surprising my wife with flowers and balloons on her birthday.
- Personal growth: delivering a talk on “Success Before 30,” challenging young people’s paradigm about success.
It was like driving six lanes of traffic on a highway, all at once. And yet, I realized: life is too short for one lane living.
The Stress and the System
Of course, it wasn’t easy. In the airport, I nearly lost luggage while juggling baby gear. At the farm in Kuching, I logged into a Zoom call for a global meeting, jacket on top, shorts below, while my children looked at guinea pigs and turtles nearby. For thirty minutes, I gave 100% attention to the meeting. Then I clicked “End,” turned my camera off, and gave 70% attention to my kids while still monitoring Zoom at 30%.
It reminded me of my first time driving on a highway. My father was sitting beside me. I was nervous. On small roads, I had all the time in the world to decide when to change lanes. But on a highway, cars came fast. My father kept saying, “Pedal faster! Decide quicker!” I hesitated, and suddenly a car honked loudly from behind. Terrified, I swerved back into the slow lane.
That day, I learned highways require more than courage. They require coordination, confidence, and above all, systems. Systems make the overwhelming manageable.
In leadership, it is the same. Maxwell’s Law of Process says leadership develops daily, not in a day. The ability to handle multiple lanes doesn’t arrive overnight. It builds with practice. Just as my father coached me to read speed, judge distance, and make decisions faster, leadership maturity grows one decision at a time, until what once felt impossible becomes second nature.
Coordination Over Collision
The temptation is to separate life into compartments. “When I’m with my family, I’m only with my family. When I’m at work, I’m only at work.” That looks clean, but it isn’t always real. Life flows more like a highway, where cars of all kinds: buses, motorcycles, sedans, share the same space. The key is not separation, but coordination.
That morning in Kuching, we chose to visit Happy Borneo Farm. By 1 p.m., I had my laptop and power bank ready. At 2 p.m., I presented to a global audience, and minutes later, the president invited me to speak at a world conference in Bali next year. If I had insisted on “one lane at a time,” I would have missed either my children’s laughter at the farm or the opportunity to impact leaders worldwide.
Coordination is not chaos. It is discipline. A well-run highway requires traffic lights, speed limits, and clear exits. Similarly, integrated living requires systems that protect what matters most.
Maxwell’s Law of Priorities reminds us: activity is not accomplishment. You can drive furiously fast but end up in the wrong lane. The point is not to be everywhere but to be intentional where it counts.
World-class examples remind us of this. Singapore’s Changi Airport, one of the busiest in the world, integrates multiple “lanes”: security, logistics, passenger experience, and retail without collapse. Their secret? Systems, not speed. Leaders must learn the same lesson: systems protect momentum.
Harvard Business Review once reported that leaders who integrate personal, professional, and community responsibilities intentionally have 25% higher engagement and 31% higher resilience. The myth that “you must separate everything” may feel safe, but it quietly costs you growth. Easy has a cost.
Carpool for Legacy
This brings me to carpooling.
When I was in university, I often drove friends from Kuala Lumpur back to Johor Bahru. My sedan could seat four more. They paid me a small fee to share fuel, and in return, I dropped them at their doorsteps. I saved money, they saved time, and we all arrived home together. That’s the multiplier effect of shared living.
Fast forward to today: I intentionally bought a house opposite Samuel’s during MCO. People thought it was crazy. But five years later, our two families share resources like a carpool. His house, packed with toys, isn’t ideal for hosting. Mine, with bigger living space, is. So guests come to my place. But when visitors need to stay overnight, they use his house because I have no spare rooms. Together, we built not just efficiency, but a powerful team.
This is the paradox of legacy: The opposite of legacy isn’t failure. It’s isolation.
When we insist on “driving alone,” life becomes expensive, lonely, and unsustainable. But when we share highways with family, teams, communities, we multiply resilience and impact. It is no coincidence that Maxwell’s Law of the Inner Circle says a leader’s potential is determined by those closest to him. Legacy isn’t built by lone drivers. It’s built by carpoolers.
World-class examples prove this. The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation pools resources across business, family, and global partners to transform health and education worldwide. Shared highways create multiplied significance.
Even statistics affirm this. Carpooling in cities reduces costs by 40% and emissions by 70%. Translate that metaphorically: shared leadership reduces wasted effort and multiplies significance.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
Life is too short for one lane living.
The myth of simplicity tells us to isolate lanes: career here, family there, faith somewhere else. But separation robs us of integration. Focus is important, but coordination is essential.
Legacy is not about running the fastest car alone. It is about building highways others can travel on, with systems that prevent collision and culture that multiplies value.
The reverse insight is this: The opposite of legacy isn’t failure. It’s isolation.
When you insist on separation, you might feel efficient, but you end up alone. When you learn to share highways, carpool resources, and build systems, you multiply not just your time, but your life’s impact.
Life is too short for one lane living. Legacy is too important to drive alone.
