You don’t need to live forever. Just live today fully. All in.
The Dog Walk That Wouldn’t Wait
It’s April 16, 2075. A Wednesday. 9:24 in the evening.
My head is throbbing—sharp, stabbing pain on the left rear side, hitting me like clockwork every 30 seconds. I’d been lying in bed for an hour, drained.
But Loki was waiting.
No bark. No whining. Just… presence. Quiet expectation. Slight disappointment.
And without needing to speak, I understood him. So I got up. I leashed him. We walked.
Some responsibilities start as duty but quietly evolve into delight. Over time, Loki has become that for me. It’s a sacred ritual—He clocks his steps. I clock mine. He takes care of his ‘business’. I reflect. It’s become our nightly rhythm—our way of remembering that we both exist, and we both matter.
Time for My Nightly SoulTake
I used to call this a “stocktake.” But that feels too transactional now. I’m not counting inventory—I’m counting meaning.
This isn’t about what I did. It’s about who I became while doing it.
So tonight, as Loki trots beside me and the streetlights cast long shadows, I begin my SoulTake.
Not to judge the day. But to understand it.
Because none of us know how long we’ll live. But we all know this:
Every new day is a miracle. And every end of day is an opportunity to steward that miracle well.
Even bad days are worth living—if they teach us. Sometimes we win. Sometimes we learn. But always, we live.
It’s not just a reflection. It’s a ritual to ask:
- Did I live today fully?
- Did I lead with love?
- Did I give my best to what matters most?
A Morning of Integration, Not Interruption
It began early, even with the headache.
I dropped off the kids at school by 8. Then headed to the hospital to register for my wife’s check-up—first come, first served. I secured number three. Clinic opens at 9. I was there by 8:30.
After registering, I rushed home to pick her up—giving her ample time to get ready while I handled the backend. Supplements, her medical check-up book, the flow—everything prepared.
Why?
Because I can’t carry the child. I can’t grow the baby.
But I can make her journey lighter. That’s love. That’s leadership. That’s partnership.
Some might say I spoil her.
I say this: if I don’t love her well, how can I expect her to love from a full cup?
From Hospital to Boardroom and Back
In between, I met with the IIB Development Director from Iskandar Investment Berhad. It was a key collaboration discussion. I was late—but informed. My colleagues held the line until I arrived.
It was brief—half an hour—but catalytic. We planted seeds that will shape the next chapter of our journey.
After that, I returned to my wife. Her check-up. A meaningful lunch. And an even more meaningful conversation.
Integration, not compartmentalization, is the real art of legacy.
I’ve come to believe:
The future of productivity is not multitasking. It’s meaningful integration.
Understanding Is Not a Right—It’s a Relationship
Over lunch, we processed some of the conflict we had faced recently—ones I’ve documented before.
There’s something powerful about timing. About knowing when to speak. And when to truly listen.
I had originally thought the theme of today’s reflection might be: Is understanding something to give, or to demand?
But the deeper truth emerged:
Marriage is a marathon. And sprinting rules don’t apply.
You can’t explode at 5km and expect to finish strong. Maturity is not burying your frustration—it’s processing it with love, grace, and courage at the right moment, in the right tone, with the right posture.
And today, we did that.
Deposits in the Emotional Bank
Because I had shown up for her earlier—with breakfast, care, and intentionality—the “emotional bank” was filled.
That made the tough conversation easier.
We navigated workplace dynamics, departmental issues, sensitive concerns—and walked away not bruised, but bonded.
No one got hurt. Because the account had credit.
And that’s the truth for every team, every marriage, every family:
You can’t withdraw from emotional accounts you haven’t invested in.
It wasn’t just marriage time. It was leadership time. Alignment time. Growth time.
One moment, multiple layers.
Hearing Restored—And the Wisdom to Listen Selectively
After lunch, I had my ear cleaned.
I can now hear clearly—finally. And I’m grateful.
But part of me wonders: what if I had a switch to turn off the noise I don’t want to hear? I can close my eyes to avoid seeing. But I can’t close my ears.
And maybe that’s the real test.
Hearing is passive. But listening is intentional.
And choosing what not to internalize—that’s wisdom.
You don’t need to hear less. You need to filter better.
Rehearsal and the Power of Community
Later, I joined the team to rehearse for Friday’s Raya celebration. It’s not just a school event. It’s a platform—for culture, connection, collaboration.
Students will perform. Parents will attend. Stakeholders will witness. MOUs will be signed. Pride will be felt.
It will be grand. Moving. Beautiful.
It’s not just about celebration. It’s about positioning. Letting people see what we’re building—and why they want to be part of it.
The Beauty of Cultural Sensitivity in Performing Arts
In the evening, I met with one of our Korean collaborators—someone who believed in Stellar when others didn’t.
We spoke about the idea of introducing high-level performing arts to Malaysian schools. Not just as extra-curricular fluff. But as legitimate, character-building, future-forward education.
And here’s what I believe:
Art must never come at the expense of dignity.
Performing doesn’t mean exposing.
Being expressive doesn’t mean being exploitive.
We need culturally sensitive platforms where students can shine—without compromising their values.
In Malaysia—a Muslim-majority country—this matters.
Respecting tradition is not regression. It’s wisdom.
The best of both worlds exists—at the intersection of artistry and appropriateness.
Real-Life Example: Intercultural Theatre in Malaysia
Studies have shown that intercultural drama programs in Malaysian schools have enhanced student empathy, increased mutual understanding, and helped bridge cultural divides. That’s not theory. That’s transformation.
As a father, I wouldn’t want my daughter on a stage that dishonors her. But a stage that honors her character, creativity, and courage?
That I’ll support fully.
Why Malls Will Become Theatres—and Tourism Will Thrive
People no longer go to malls to shop. We shop online. I do. 99% of my purchases are digital.
We go to malls now for experiences.
Entertainment. Interaction. Lifestyle.
As the economy matures, people will have more disposable income—and more discretionary time.
What will they spend it on?
- Food.
- Travel.
- Entertainment.
- Culture.
Experiential lifestyle is the new economy.
This is not just theory. Malls like LaLaport BBCC in Kuala Lumpur have rebranded themselves as pop-culture experience centers with events, workshops, and youth performances.
And this links directly to our future in education.
Tourism + Entertainment = Cultural Opportunity
Malaysia has declared Visit Malaysia 2026, aiming to draw over 35 million visitors and RM147.1 billion in receipts.
That tells me one thing:
Art and culture are rising sectors.
Performing arts. Student showcases. Cultural experiences.
They won’t just entertain. They’ll educate. And they’ll unify.
Let’s design schools that feed the future—not just academically, but soulfully.
Evening Swim, Evening Wisdom
After all that, I went for my usual swim and gym. But today was different.
Ten people joined me. From our team. Our community. All moving. All present. That matters.
I spoke to a young man—hesitant, stuck in fear. I shared something simple but life-changing:
The most powerful decision you’ll ever make… is to go all in.
I entered marriage all in—no “what ifs.”
We built Stellar all in—no backup plan.
I father my children all in—not perfectly, but with presence.
I asked him, “Why do you think I work out every day?”
He said, “To stay healthy.”
I said, “True. But why do I want to stay healthy?”
He couldn’t answer.
So I told him the truth:
I do it so my children will never have to carry me when I’m old.
I do it so I can live, love, and lead without becoming a burden.
I do it so when death comes, I have nothing left to give—because I gave it all already.
The Reverse That Redefines It All
You don’t avoid regret by avoiding risk. You avoid regret by living wholeheartedly.
Half-love doesn’t heal.
Half-leadership doesn’t inspire.
Half-life doesn’t satisfy.
You’re either pregnant… or you’re not.
You’re either in… or you’re not.
You’re either all in… or you’re just surviving.
Closing My SoulTake
And now, I’m done walking the dog. The night is cool. My head still aches. But my soul… is quiet.
Not because everything was easy. But because everything was honest.
And that’s enough.
Today wasn’t perfect. But it was present. It was purposed. It was all in.
And that makes it a day worth living.
Good night.
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