A leadership reflection on presence, parenting, and what real excellence looks like.
A Day With Aden: From Plans to Presence
It’s soul-take time again.
Today is Sunday. A lovely one. It passed just like that.
These days, I’ve been learning to appreciate Sundays as a single day of rest, especially since Saturdays are now filled with church commitments. I feel a little tired this week—could be old age creeping in, or maybe just the accumulated fatigue of carrying so many invisible weights. Either way, I know I should probably arrange for a checkup soon—for the sake of my family if nothing else.
But today, I was gifted with time—quality time—with Aden and my wife. Eann and Evan were with my parents, which left me with just one of them. Not because Aden wanted to be with me; truth be told, he would have much preferred staying over at Teacher Chang’s place. But plans changed, and life handed me a beautiful surprise: uninterrupted time with my son.
Deep Talks with a Nine-Year-Old
We started the day with breakfast and conversation. At just nine years old, Aden surprises me with how deeply he can engage. I explained the difference between a visionary and someone just chasing dreams, and he got it. He responded with, “Wow, I understand what you mean. That is so cool.”
And it was cool.
We had a full day planned—visiting the aquarium, getting him a mini lobster and crab, talking about money, choices, responsibility… and then, things went downhill a little.
Conversations That Sting—And Shape
On the way home, we had a moment—a sharp one. It started with a simple discussion on the value of money. I told him about duplicating SS cards for RM100 and how expensive life can get when small things stack up.
His casual response—“That’s not too expensive because we’ll use it long term”—hit me hard.
I snapped.
Not because of what he said, but because of what it represented. Entitlement. The kind of financial blindness I fear most for my children. The kind I’ve worked so hard to unlearn myself.
We argued. He misunderstood. I got defensive. He felt falsely accused over the spilled aquarium water. He cried.
But here’s the beauty: we talked. I apologised. I explained. He listened. And we both grew a little.
What Integrity Really Looks Like at Home
We often define integrity as “doing the right thing when no one is watching.” But in parenting, that often means admitting you were wrong… to a child.
And that’s hard.
Especially when you’re the authority figure. The dad. The one who’s supposed to know it all.
But I chose to apologise because I want him to grow up seeing that integrity isn’t pride—it’s peace. It’s clarity. It’s choosing what’s right over what’s comfortable. Even when the “no one watching” is a nine-year-old boy.
Integrity, in its rawest form, is saying, “I’m sorry” before your child learns to pretend everything’s okay. It’s modelling confession so they learn redemption.
Excellence Isn’t a Perfect Score
Later in the day, we had a short church service. Nothing profound today—just presence. We then continued the day with little things: changing the fish tank water together, bathing Loki, preparing for carpooling, reflecting at dinner.
But something was brewing in my mind the whole day: what is excellence?
Not perfection. Not grades. Not outcomes.
Excellence is consistency in showing up. In trying again. In owning your missteps. It’s the long game, not the highlight reel.
And it struck me—back in 2018, I thought I had a “perfect score” in team culture. 10 out of 10. By 2022, I would rate it 3 out of 10. Do I feel defeated? Yes. But also refined.
Because excellence is not about never falling—it’s about rising differently each time.
Reverse Insight: Excellence Is Opposite of Perfection
Here’s the twist most people miss:
Excellence is the opposite of perfection.
Perfection says: “Stay safe. Don’t move. Don’t fail.”
Excellence says: “Stretch. Risk. Fail forward. Try again.”
Perfect leaders hide flaws. Excellent ones grow through them.
Perfect parents perform. Excellent ones embrace the discomfort of growing alongside their children.
Final Moments: Ending the Day with a Smile
Before bed, my father sent Eann and Evan back. I tried my best to spend time with them—prayed with them, applied some cream for Eann, praised him for being cooperative even when he was crying for my mom. I tucked them in with a smile.
This is the part people rarely write about: how much effort it takes to end a day well, not just start one.
The Legacy We Leave
So as I wrap up this soul-take, here’s my quiet reflection:
We often think leadership at home is about being respected. But real leadership is about being reflective, not just respected.
It’s not about having the answers—but being present in the questions.
Integrity is not just about doing right. It’s about raising children who know how to do right—because they watched you wrestle with it.
And excellence? It’s not a moment. It’s a movement. It’s failing 10 times and showing your kids how to rise 11.
Tonight, I rest in peace—not because the day was perfect, but because I didn’t walk away from its imperfections.
A day well spent.
Good night.
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