Father Day (2021)

 

Dad knows best. Sometimes they really do. They see a need in their child, they become their rescuers. A father’s heart indeed beats with unconditional love. 

ST celebrates Father’s Day today with that theme. We have a father who gave up everything in 2014 for his son, Nathanael (Nat). Chris’ son was diagnosed with global developmental delay with low muscles tone. He researched about it and it was suggested that “living in a cool, temperate climate would be better” for Nat. 

So, Chris, who has a PhD in biology, uprooted to New Zealand with family, left a well paying job and sold his company, to care for his son full time. 

Chris said: “I made a choice: Should I be a millionaire and my son is bedridden, or should I be a poor man and my son can be perfectly fine? So I took the second option.”

Well, all that paid rich dividends for Chris. Nat is doing well. At 11 today, he has obtained a diploma in written music theory from Trinity College London’s music exam board and scored distinctions for some GCSE subjects. 

Another dad became a stay-home father for his children. He has been playing that role since 2008. He said it was the most rewarding time of his life; watching his children grow, bonding with them, as he ferried them to school in his bicycle. 

Nor Nizar Mohamed was in fact questioned for a such a move. One day, he recalled that he brought his son to play badminton. His friend asked, why he bring him over. “If you take care of him, what is your wife doing?” That was something he as a stay home dad has to deal with. 

Another dad was inspired by his own father to step up. Albert Lim’s father died when he was 33. He recalled his father fondly. Though a stoic man, he had a high sense of responsibility and was caring. “I miss his quiet caring touch unto my family.”

Albert is a volunteer with Families for Life, and a Life council member and board director at the Centre For Fathering. His own children are married and he has a granddaughter. It was a long journey of fatherhood for Albert and it is ongoing until you heave your last breath. 

Lesson? One. 

I recall E.M. Forster once said, "How do I know who I am until I see what I do?" That’s wise. 

We are defined by our actions, and I believe as fathers, we are also redeemed by them. Fatherhood is a redeeming journey. We take the first step by seeing ourselves in our child. 

We may think their struggles to crawl, to walk, and to talk differ from ours. We may think they are just beginning to live, while we are at a much later stage of that development. 

Yet, the reality is that their struggles are no different from ours. One is the birth of a life, the other, the birth of being a father. There is distinct newness on both sides as we cradle our child in our arms. We are both fragile in our own ways. The baby being nurtured and the father’s soul reformed through offering nurturance. 

And the redemption part comes when we gradually form our own identity with every step (or misstep) taken along the way. 

For that reason, both of us are learning. Both of us are growing. And both of us are adapting. That’s fatherhood, a mutually influencing and reinforcing journey from father to child, and from child to father. 

Let me end with the words of a Roman emperor, which for me describes fatherhood well.

"Some people, when they do someone a favor, are always looking for a chance to call it in. And some aren't, but they're still aware of it - still regard it as a debt. But others don't even do that. They're like a vine that produces grapes without looking for anything in return...after helping others...They just go on to something else...We should be like that." (Marcus Aurelius).

Fathers are like vines, and their labour of love asks for nothing in return; just the well-being of his child. And grapes when they are not ripe are sour, and father and child go through that journey a lot. There will surely be disappointments, stumbles and falls, even rebellion. 

That’s where the true testing comes, in line with what EM Foster said, “"How do I know who I am until I see what I do?" For when father and child overcome, one battle of growth after another, your vision of fatherhood comes into greater clarity; your identity as a father emerges from the overcoming. 

Before long, you will know who you really are, especially during such time when your child comes to you and says, “I love you, Dad.”

 

Jeya Seelan - Facebook Justice in Kampong Spirit Style.

 

How about that, a shop owner selling spices and condiments at Yishun, abiding by the kampong spirit of helping one another, decided not to report someone who stole from him? 

That was the choice that Jeya Seelan, 31, had made. And it all started on 3 June. When he was away on a course, and two of his assistants were not watching, the stall customer walked over and swiped away about $800 cash visibly placed in a plastic box. 

That person was caught on camera. His face and identity were exposed. Yet, Jeya chose an unusual road. He did not lodge a police report. The neighbourhood police post was not mobilised. 

He blurred the identity of the customer who took the money and posted it on Facebook. He didn’t want to tarnish the man’s reputation. He only wanted him to return the money. 

He said: “It was just heartbreaking and shocking. If you think about all the hard work that went into earning that money, and one guy suddenly comes in to steal it in a flash, it’s devastating.”

Facebook justice worked swiftly. One day later, on 4 June, “a friend of the man who took the money sent Mr Jeya a text message at about 6pm. The next day, he came with the thief to return the money.”

Jeya said: “We like to say “bila bila Yishun”, which means “Yishun forever” in Malay. We have a spirit of helping one another. People say the kampong spirit is dying but I don’t believe that’s true.””

Lesson? Well, thinking aloud, do you call that the kampong-spirit-styled justice at work? Does it stop there? Is it consistent with our modern day justice/enforcement system based on the 4 sentencing principles of retribution, prevention, deterrence and rehabilitation? 

Here are more questions: Did the man learn his lesson? Is he remorseful? Will he re-offend? Will Jeya’s kampong spirit-styled justice deter future acts of theft? How will AGC and the SPF view this development, because $800 dollars is no small sum? 

Will there be a floodgate of such dispensation of justice carried out under one’s own hands? And for lawyers mitigating for their clients who have pleaded guilty to theft, what role, if any, does this unusual case play in their representation? Does this count as their first offence? 

I have more questions, but I resist being a smart-Alec about it, because I personally think justice in our strictly rule-based society has taken an unexpected detour for this case - at least for now. And it ought to be a good General-Paper-like discussion for A-level students in JCs. 

Mind you, Jeya’s angelic act in the spirit of kampong togetherness may warm the hearts of many in Yishun, others who read it, and myself included, but I suspect not all will share this kampong-spirit styled justice, especially those who had served time for relatively minor offences, for example, negligent driving. 

For them, and many others, where is the kampong spirit when they were charged and sentenced to serve a short jail time over a largely uncharacteristic, momentary lapse of judgment?

Still, kudos to Jeya, for he has shown communal mercy. And ironically the way mercy is shown cannot be done apart from exposing the crime on some social media platform, and now on ST and well, my Monday morning reflection. 

Complete anonymity would not work at all, because at most times, our conscience requires god-like surveillance in the form of video recording effectively brought to the culprit’s attention (and risks bringing the same to the attention of public authority at large) for him to come to its senses.

 

And let’s bear in mind that this is not a case where the man who stole suddenly had a road-to-Damascus experience the day after, and that led him to give up the cash. In this particular case, as Jeya puts it so nobly, the kampong spirit is not dead, and that is the truth. Jeya exemplified it well. It’s justice meted out by dint of pure compassion, when the game is up. 

For now, I too wonder, how will the law enforcers exemplify it? More importantly, how will society at large and the man who stole exemplify that same Kampong spirit? For having been shown grace, will the person who had stolen pays it forward by self-reform and demonstrating grace in return to others too? 

Alas, a small pebble of kindness thrown into a pond can create a ripple effect that compels society as a whole to confront their views/conviction about the criminal justice system, or about a balancing between crime and punishment, but with a human touch to it.

 

Gurmit Singh - I hope to do better.

 

131km. That’s fast. And on a road (Woodlands Avenue 12) whose speed limit is 70km/h, that’s nearly twice that limit.

For that, Gurmit Singh Virk Chainchal Singh (aka Mr Phua Chu Kang) was fined $800. He was also banned for three months after pleading guilty to speeding. 

At that time, in April, his 19-yr-old son was with him. He was driving a luxury sedan Audi A8. FYI, Gurmit is known to own fast cars like Lamborghini and Honda Phantom TA-200 motorcycle.

The father of three said that he heard a “flapping sound” coming from the car and wanted his son to hear it. It was a new car he had bought and he wanted his son to check out the sound. At that time, he was fetching his son home. 

He said: “After I got him, I wanted him to hear the sound, and I realised it comes out at 100km/h. I’m not saying I should drive at that speed...but it was just a short spurt.” Gurmit said it was “one-off” and he didn’t realise he had clocked 130km/h. 

After he left the court, Gurmit posted a video and “promised to be a better driver...I just want to say I’m sorry, and I hope to do better.”

Lesson? I guess we all hope to do better. Gurmit has apologised. He had received many messages of support. Redemption is indeed a beautiful journey. It is also a lifelong journey. 

We must know that this can happen to anyone. That almost effortless pressure on the accelerator in a car made for speed is enough to tempt even the most sober-minded amongst us.

There should not be any pretenses when it comes to human imperfections. For given the right opportunity, the right settings, we can’t be all that sure we will not fall. 

I know I shouldn’t wax so philosophical about our human nature, in particular, over one traffic trangression, but I fear our society often stands on the side of those who readily follow the mob to cast stones at those standing alone and apart on the other side. 

And this may have nothing or little to do with Gurmit’s case, but sadly, I noticed that we love to hate, especially when such hatred is reserved for someone who is prominent, highly educated, rich and/or famous. 

And with such easy media access, all that you have done in the past counts for little when you fall foul of the law, whether legal or moral. Your weakest link is therefore that break in character, even if it’s just a moment of folly. 

That is the summation of a cancel culture waiting by the shadows to pounce on anyone who is supposed to be without blame in the eyes of society.

Our craving for the ideal has turned society into one of extremes, where good men are never expected to be bad. When you breach that expectation, the world then pass you by to look for their next perfect hero to adulate. The mirror of humanity is therefore never turned on ourselves, but on others, especially those who are perceived to be outstanding or seemingly infallible.

So, let me end with a reflection here. You may be aware that the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy. Well, in Hebrew, the opposite of holy is not “profane” (or “chol”), but “empty”. Yes, “empty” here means you are not yet filled. 

How about that? That word “yet” is a journey of time, as our life is measured against it. It means that we ought not to be condemned by one act in a single space and time. That’s not conclusive yet of us. But, should we learn from it (and make amends with time), we thus ought to receive the grace and embrace of society. 

I have also learned that holy in Hebrew is “Kedusha”, and it means “life intensity”. And as one Rabbi puts it, “To be holy is to be intensely dynamic, ever changing, and ever-realising.” (Rabbi Irwin Kula).

“The Biblical command “You Shall Be Holy” is an invitation to celebrate what philosopher Mark Taylor calls “a maze of grace that is the world.”” 

So, the good rabbi implores us to “live as richly and passionately as possible; that’s as close to meaning as (we) will get.”

And let me just add that to live richly and passionately, to live in a maze of grace, is to know that you are just as broken and fallible as the person beside you who may have fallen. 

This maze is the messiness of life we all struggle together, and are trying to figure out. And this grace is a timeless reminder that we are in the same boat, regardless of the great estimation we may quietly reserve for ourselves.

 

Success is like building sandcastles - Peter Yeo

ST this morning features a 75-year-old man who has given me a point of inflection towards a certain hope. 

The man is Peter Yeo Toon Joo who was a news editor for ST, Noon Daily and New Nation. He was also marketing manager of The Singapore Monitor. 

Journalist Lee Siew Hua interviewed him via email and here is his eye-opening journey.

“His catalogue of trauma started with hepatitis that almost killed him at age 13. In adult life, he suffered two heart attacks, skin cancer, a tumour in the scrotum, bone marrow failure and bone cancer.”

”He survived a head-on collision with a cab, and also a near plane crash. In 1984, the aircraft (he) was flying in suddenly plunged in mid-air over Germany with flames spewing from its wings.”

Indomitable, Peter never gave up on life. A man his age has gone through a major part of life’s journey, and as Elton John would say, “He’s still standing” - even if he has to carry a portable oxygen concentrator around. 

That portable life support was with him because in 2010 he was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis (“IPF”). “This causes scar tissue to build up in the lungs, depriving (Peter) of oxygen.” Talk about never catching a break in life.

Peter explains what IPF means: “We end up grasping for air, even with the least exertion. Death comes through asphyxiation, just like drowning.”

Peter definitely has a story to tell at 75, a witness to life from cradle to two near death experiences. 

He recounted that while undergoing surgery in 1989 and 1991, he had two out-of-body experiences, which he said transformed him. “I went to hell...(it) changed me completely and banished forever my fear of death.”

“Those hellish experiences, with tormenting playbacks of his past high-living life when he partied, drank and womanised, turned his life around.”

Peter said: “My desire is to use my story to encourage those who are ill, in distress and live in fear of their sickness and death.”

And what have been keeping Peter from giving up are his wife, Rosalind (72), married for 51 years, his love of life, his sense of humour, his circle of friends, and his Christian faith. 

In fact, when he was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis in 2010, doctors gave him 2 years to live, 5 years max. Yet, today he is still alive and kicking, even if he has to push his oxygen concentrator around.

As a backdrop, Peter retired in 1998, when he was 53, and travelled the world. He took in many precious breaths of life he was given to drive long distances in his Mercury Cougar sports coupe, playing with his four grandsons, and embracing sports since young like boxing, swimming, football, rugby, badminton and pumping iron. 

Peter said: “My last swim was in early 2020 when I nearly drowned as I ran out of air while doing a very slow lap in a pool.” His primary caregiver Dr Diane Tuffel, told him: “You are the fittest sick person I have ever treated.”

Lesson? One. And, who am I kidding? There are not many Peter kind in our world. We all live our lives differently. We overcome at our own pace. We may have the same stubborn heart that beats for life, yet our struggles are different too. 

Peter is who he is today because of so many factors, genetic as well as circumstances. His life is rather unique and his story is too. 

In the long journey of life, most arduous when you are forced at various crossroads to sit down and have a long, sapping dialogue of silence with your own mortality, your story is less of an objective narrative and more of a subjective one.

Reality is therefore how you experience it, and that experience is vicerally personal, intensely intimate, and so is the pain and the hope, both in tears of torment and joy. No two realities are thus the same.

However, while experiences and stories differ, what we all share when we go through such trying times is that we often see things clearly, with profound depth that words mostly fall short. And life opens up too when death closes the gap with every ponderous breath taken. 

At life’s edge, Peter drew the distinction between the fear of death and dying. “I now fear nothing, definitely not death. Only the process of dying, that could be tough, traumatic and agonising for an IPF patient.”

He said: “The only thing I have difficulty reconciling myself to is the pain of ageing too fast and being ill.” Well, that may just be what many of us would experience too - not so much the dread of the end, but the process that brings it all to the end. 

Alas, in all his achievements, being a news editor, a consultant in public relations, advertising and marketing communications, and being able to retire at 53 to travel the world, Peter comes to this reflection about life: “Success is like building sandcastles.”

And this is what he shared about a life pursuing pleasure: “Some of you in the business world may know of Yeo Toon Joo, No. 2 man in New Nation, who wasn’t exactly the nicest of men at all - in the office and at home. And a heavy drinker until he almost died...I tried almost everything to find pleasure.”

Now, facing the sunset of his life, Peter said: “I have a very good and loving caregiver in my wife, Rosalind.” 

Truly, death concentrates the mind wonderfully, and in life’s crucible, what really matters after the furnace fire burns itself out is the people who are still around by your side, holding your hands, and sharing your pain and joy. 

In such a life, there are no sandcastles that the tides of time can ever wash away. Neither is a life dedicated to such enduring pursuit ever wasted, because as poet Kahlil Gibran challenges us to ask: “Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?”

That was the unquenchable thirst that Peter had to give up when he said, “I tried almost everything to find pleasure” before he found his well of living waters that will never run out.

And that may also be why he is able to say this about the broken sting of death - “Death, when it comes, would only be a change of address, to a new domicile.”

 

GCB - Part 1.

 

This morning is about the tale of two successful lives. 

One is the 28-year-old co-founder of Secretlab. Ian Alexander Ang’s Secretlab had sold its millionth ergonomic chair last year. His company now employs around 200 staff “making about one million chairs a year that are sold to 60 countries.”

He is featured today in ST because he had just splashed out $51 million on two luxury properties, that is, a good class bungalow in Caldecott Hill and a penthouse near the Botanic Gardens. 

At 28, Ian is the youngest winner of the EY Entrepreneur of the Year title. Needless to say, Ian is the envy and the talk of the town. I guess some parents would love to have him for a son-in-law. 

Alas, most of the young adult his age is struggling with their career and maybe family, wondering how they will provide for their kids’ future?

For Ian, his business acumen paid off, and with timely providence and persistence, money will be the least of his concerns. His family and loved ones should be proud of his achievements at such a young age. 

The other successful life comes with much less flamboyance. There is no good class bungalow or penthouse to talk about. He is much older, 76 years old, born in 1945. I stumbled upon his life in my previous post many years ago 

He came from a good family and was educated in one of the most prestigious schools in India. At twenty, he was destined to be a doctor, an engineer or maybe a top official of the World Bank. His career was hitched to the stars. His mother was so proud of him.

Then, one day (in 1965), a terrible famine broke out in the province of Bihar, one of the poorest states of India. This young man went with a friend of Gandhi to visit the distressed state. When he returned, completely transformed, he told his mother that he wanted to go live in the village. 

"What are you going to do in the village?" she shrieked. He replied, "To work as an unskilled laborer, digging well." His mother almost went into a coma - he recounted. 

Before he left, the other members of the family comforted his mother saying: "Don't worry, like all teenagers, he's having his crisis of idealism. After toiling there for a few weeks, he'll soon become disillusioned and will come home." 

These words soon lost its consolating effect as weeks turned to months and months turned to years and years to decades. Altogether, Sanjit "Bunker" Roy (“Roy”) went to live in the village for 40 years and counting. Yes, you heard it right - 40 long years. For six years, Roy dug three hundred wells with a pneumatic drill in the countryside of Rajasthan. 

Naturally, his mother refused to talk to him and the village he resided didn't understand his reasons for doing what he did. A typical dialogue went something like this:-

"Are you running away from the police?"

"No."

"Did you fail your exams?"

"No."

"Were you unable to get a government job?"

"No."

Obviously, someone of his social and academic standing was a sore thumb in the poor village. But Roy didn't forsake the villages. He continued doing the work of digging wells. 

After some time, he realised that men were rather "untrainable". He remarked that after the men leave the village to find work in the cities, they contributed nothing to help their village. 

So, he educated young women, especially young grandmothers (35 to 50 yrs) who had lots of time in their hands. He trained them to be "solar engineers" to set up solar panels in the villages. 

Roy even founded the Barefoot College where he trained up teachers with no college degree but "shared their experience based on years of practice." It was a simple community and no one was paid more than 100 euros a month. 

Roy even came up with ways to fill up and replenish large tanks of water in every village to satisfy their yearly needs so that women do not need to travel long distances every day to fetch water. 

He persevered for decades and won the government and the other organizations over. He quoted Gandhi saying, "First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Finally, you win." 

Till this day, for the last 40 years and more, Roy radiated "the calm contentment of a meaningful life." He found deep fulfillment. He was truly happy. As Seneca puts it: “To live is to be useful to others."

Lesson? Let me be as brief as possible. 

Some readers here may question why I juxtaposition the two lives together? Purposely right? Do I have a bias for one against the other? And I don’t need to tell you for whom the bias is reserved? Please, hold that thought, and let me flesh it out a little bit more.

Roy has nearly completed his journey at 76. Ian is just starting, at 28, although it is a fortune’s fulcrum of a launch for Ian that any of us can only dream of. But mind you, it doesn’t come without hard work, risks and sleepless nights right? 

Roy digs well and trains the poor, starting a school to help them to become self-independent. But Ian too employs hundreds, under the auspices of his company, providing work and economic security for them. And at his young age, if he is well guided, honest and humble, who knows how far he can go in helping society right? 

So, no, there is no bias for one against the other; for Ian still has a long journey to go in his life, and who is to say what it will be in the future for him? 

In essence, both lived out their destiny on earth in the exact way they would have chosen if given a chance to do it all over again. They would not want it any other way. It is theirs to treasure and develop, and to grow in. 

And I juxtaposition them together to show that their lives inspire people in different ways. It all involves industry and commitment, and it is a life exclusive only to them. No doubt some success carries with it a higher risk of derailment in terms of one’s character, and only time will tell, but this post avoids steering towards that rough terrain. 

More importantly, I read about Ian’s and Roy’s lives, and my takeaway is that, we are all accountable for our own lives. 

We may not be living in a GCB or penthouse, or digging well and setting up schools. We may not be as famous as them, but in our own sphere of influence, whether as a friend, father, mother, worker, employer or citizen, we are also providers ourselves, that is, of a roof over our loved ones’ head.

And we are also lending a hand to others in our own journey, very much like digging wells for them, and in our own ways, that is, in the way we live our life, we are teachers too, to those we are responsible for, and who come under our care. 

And I have learned that it is not so much about the numbers of lives touched, but how consistent we are in touching lives, even a handful, so as to make the deepest impact within our own sphere of influence. That is the benchmark of enduring success, and it’s all within our reach. 

Some people have longer reach and some...not that long, but it is the depth we go to reach each soul that counts, and that is, to me, the common denominator amongst us concerning a heart and a life that is always successful, regardless of how wealthy, famous and powerful we are. 

(I mean, look at the almost anonymous and shunned life of Christ. He spent three years out of 33, living and nurturing 12, and look at the impact he has made). 

Indeed, as one wise man said, "Altruism is like rings in the water when you toss a pebble. At first the circles are very small, then they get larger, and finally they embrace the entire surface of the ocean." 

Let the envy within you rot itself and be done away with. But, as for another form of “envy” in the eyes of your loved ones beholding you and your life, for giving to them the time and love, and for sharing your simple journey of faithfulness and sacrifices with them, well, let that encourage lives, warm hearts, and enrich souls. Let that be their light in their own journey of life to travel on.

 

GCB - Part 2.

 

Good Class Bungalows ("GCB") are a worthy investment. 

A week back, Secretlab co-founder Ian Ang, 28, bought one (and a penthouse), at $51 million. And if you have the money, it’s prudent to plant it in one of them huge mansions. 

Now, the news is that Grab co-founder Anthony Tan’s wife, Ms Chloe Tong, has just snapped up another GCB. It costs $40 million. It is a house in District 10, Bin Tong Park. It is bought as a family home. 

One real estate director said: “GCBs are very sought after as a status symbol. The newly rich younger generation and new citizens tend to want to get GCBs for their own use.”

I think such purchases will always make the news because it turns heads. It is attention grabbing. It is out of the ordinary. It is not everyday that someone buys a roof over their head that cost an arm and a leg for the average man on the street (not saying that the average man’s arm and leg could afford it anyway). 

Come to think about it, some years back (2019), a few corporate leaders also made the news. And like Ian Ang and Anthony Tan, they were leaders of their own respective fields. They were CEOs and/or founders of companies too.

One of them was Abel Ang, 46. The rest were Joseph Gan (41), Christopher Tan (49) and Joshua Yim (55). 

Abel is the CEO of Advanced MedTech, Joseph the co-founder of V-Key, Christopher, the CEO of Providend, and lastly, Joshua, the CEO of human resource consultancy Achieve Group. And those achievements, by itself, would be newsworthy. 

Yet, they were in the news because they all took the public housing route. Yes, they lived in subsidised housing, that is, HDB. The roof over their heads didn’t cost millions, but it still kept the home warm, the bed soft and the rain from coming in. 

Yet, I can’t deny that GCBs are stellar status symbol and your impression about a person is immediately formed the moment you look at his name and the residential address that comes after that. The rule of thumb is that the shorter the address description, the deeper the impression you have of him. That’s human nature. 

Mind you, and like it or not, we are not where we are today, that is, the relentless progress of modern civilization, because we are all born equal in ability, talent and industry.

Let’s not forget that out of every womb is a person who differs from the next person that comes out in the same way. And the one thing that makes them news worthy is how much different they are from one another. 

That is why the media always shadows the top 1%, and seldom the bottom 50% or the middle in-between, unless they too have a rag-to-riches story to tell. You have to earn your mediagenic stripes right? 

This difference or gap is magnified manifold for those who are born either in privileged circumstances, thereby riding on the fame of their parents’ name, or, by sheer will, ingenuity and some luck, they diligently scale up the corporate ladder of success. To some of them, GCB speaks volumes about their achievements. It is an instant advocacy of their status in society. 

But, for CEO Joseph Gan, status symbol is the least of his concerns. He said: “I did not accept the position of CEO because I wanted to chase after material things. I became a CEO because I wanted to make a difference in what the company can build. I don’t think I need to live in a big house to impress them.”

He added: “We all choose the lifestyle we want to lead. I am very happy and comfortable with mine...There may come a time when we are forced to move to a bigger place to give our children more individualised space as they grow up. But for now, we are very happy living in our HDB flat.” (Maybe that’s the mindset of the well-off and practical?). 

For Abel, CEO of advanced MedTech, he recounted: ““But there were also a few who asked how my family and I could live in such “hardship”. They feared that if they were to live in an HDB flat, or drive an inexpensive car, others might feel these indicators do not befit the success of their firms. Some people also asked that CEOs who live in HDB flats are not giving their subordinates enough to aspire to.””

Abel added: ““I’m not saying others are wrong to aspire towards a more expensive home, but living in an HDB flat has worked for me and my family. And it is certainly not a “hardship””. 

Another CEO, Joshua said: “I understand how CEOs might want to live in a private property just to give their staff something to aspire to, but I don’t think my living in a HDB flat hinders my staff’s aspirations. Everybody has different dreams, and my priorities are my business and the impact I make on the lives of others.”

I guess that sums up my post this morning. Whether it is GCB or HDB, or whether it’s a bungalow or a unit in a block, everybody has different dreams and priorities in life, family, career and business. 

Admittedly, the natural thing to do when you have finally made it in society is to live it up and large. You want to own the whole block in the estate if you have the dough to splurge right? 

Indeed, status symbols, like a palatial mansion and a few sportscar in your own garage, are themselves glowing resume of your standing in society that is written more in kind than words. That is the resume of material achievements many will undoubtedly wish to aspire to. That’s human nature, whether by nature or nurture, or both. 

However, there is another resume that we often overlook, or give less attention to when we are busy building up the other (more tangible) one. It is the resume that other people eulogises about us. And while one resume about us is painstakingly written by us, the other resume is written by others about us. Thus, one resume aims to impress with a certain attitude, and the other aims to express with a sincere gratitude. 

Make no mistakes, in life, you develop both resumes. You want to be the best you can with the resources at hand, and at the same time, you want to live your life giving the best you have for those within your sphere of influence. 

But having said that, the latter (life resume) should always lead the former (achievement resume), because if the order is reversed, your success risks being a pursuit always burdened by constant restlessness.

 

Here, I am reminded of what Seneca said: “It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more that is poor.” 

And I can see no or little remedy for that, when one burnishes his achievement resume at the expense of his life resume. For he may be rich by society’s standard to the envy of many, but his heart will always be poor because the gap for him will never be closed.