The Heart Is All That Matters

Madiba Shirt

When Nelson Mandela took over the office, there’s a battle over what the president should wear. His office invited image dressers for advice, and they went through the whole thing about red tie, navy blue, and all the western elegant stuff.

But Mandela had his view, "This is Africa… I want to dress like a man who is living in Africa, because that's where I live. I don't live in London, so I don't need a three-piece suit. When I visit London, I'll wear one if necessary.”

Mandela understood that his own people didn't have three-piece suits to wear, and he needed to begin to dress the way the people dressed.

That’s when Mandela started and later popularised the seemingly casual shirts in glorious African patterns. The Madiba shirt. Vivid colour. Symbolising African power – indigenous, cheerful, confident.

Madiba knew the importance of looking and playing the part. When he was a student, he strived to look organised and studious. When he was a young lawyer, he wore custom-made suits. When he went underground, he grew a beard.

When we’re in a new place or a new role, there’s something we can learn from Mandela about fitting in and gaining acceptance.

Work Or Non-Work Information

Harvard Business Review March / April 2023 Issue ran an article, “When First Meeting a Colleague, Keep the Shoptalk in Check”. It featured a research pairing previously unknown colleagues in conversations and found that those who shared non-work information connected better than those filled with work information. That’s because the work information talks contained words related to personal achievements and successes and that put people off. The researchers concluded that, “talking about what one does outside of work seems useful, as it lowers the use of words that suggest an achievement orientation and makes one seems more supportive. And that might lead to longer-lasting connections.”

When you’re new in a workplace, relationship building is critical, and you can’t build relationships without communications. Exchanging non-work information certainly helps in establishing connections. But there’s a limit to how much you can share about non-work, too much of it makes you a bore. What’s more, you’re never in total control of what to talk about. Your new colleagues will be curious about your expertise and work experience, and you can’t avoid them. What you need is to be mindful in your conversations and avoid turning it into one self-promoting display, exhibiting your long list of accomplishments and wins. Do include the challenges, mistakes, and lessons you’ve learned in your other workplaces. Life is never a straight line of success. It’s a series of ups and downs. When you make it one-sided, you become unreal. What you want is authentic conversations. People will connect with you when they see the honesty.

When a talk is authentic and meaningful to others, work or non-work information doesn’t matter much.

The Workplace Immune System

As a HR, when people leave their previous jobs and sign the appointment letters made by you, or you transfer an existing employee to another function or subsidiary, and in return they’re attacked by their new colleagues and end up leaving before they can show their value. It hurts.

Why? The tribe says, “They couldn’t fit in.” The new blood wasn’t accepted by the tribe.

Transition expert, William Bridges, said every organisation, just like the human body, has its own immune system whose task is to resist unfamiliar bodies. When the immune system perceives the foreign body as a nuisance, it attacks and destroys it.

The organisation culture is the immune system. It’s “the way things are done here”. When new joiners understand how things work here and adapt, the tribe accepts them. But when they can’t adjust to the new place, they’re perceived as problematic, a germ. If the germ is perceived to be big, they trigger the immune system attack. Life gets tougher.

Some new joiners may say, “I was told to change things here, my manager said that during the interview.” Well, we’ll leave this topic to a later discussion. Now, we need to appreciate the power of the workplace immune system and it’s wise for new joiners to learn the new culture and work their way to get accepted.

Most companies support new hires with onboarding programs covering Purpose and Corporate Values and Company Policies of “Dos and Don’ts”. But the real culture on the ground is often different from the words in the orientation pack and posters on the wall.

Begin Well

When I joined Sunray Construction 6 years ago as the Head of HR, among the first things I did was to visit our colleagues on the construction sites. Some sites were hard to get to. Not physically, but the security access was tight. I had to undergo a 4-day site supervisory training and assessment and fill a dense set of paperwork to gain access. I did all of that. I didn’t have to if I chose not to visit those hard-to-get-to sites.

Finally, I got to walk the ground with our site colleagues. At the end of one visit, the Project Manager said, “I’ve been in project sites for more than 10 years. This is the first time a HR Director has visited. We want you to know we appreciate it.” In our first meeting, he had formed a certain image of me.  

6 years ago, when I landed this new job, I didn’t know about personal branding. I was just doing something I thought I ought to do. But what you did and didn’t do when you’re new sends a lasting signal of who you are. I left creating a leadership brand to chance. Luckily, it turned out well.

I’ve seen many new leaders in transition created a bad name at the start and it stuck. It hurt them and those around them.

Our holistic program “Begin Well” helps your people in transition – new hires, transfers, relocations, promotions, re-assignments – to start well in their new roles.

Innovation and Entrepreneurship Coach Certification with Shanghai Lingang Group

A yearlong Innovation and Entrepreneurship Coach Certification project starting in May 2022 with the Shanghai Lingang Group, a state-owned enterprise that focuses on the development of industrial parks, support services and industrial investment. On 12 April we were pleased to have Mr Li, the Executive Dean of Lingang Innovation Institute, joined our Case Studies Development workshop and delivered an inspiring opening address to the internal trainers.

4月12日下午，由临港创新管理学院与科创和产业发展部联合开发的园区科创服务师人才认证之科创服务案例开发项目在漕河泾国际孵化中心召开项目启动会。临港创新管理学院执行院长李刚、临港集团科创和产业发展部副总监、临港科投公司副总经理童骏欣出席启动会并致辞，临港学院以及集团科创板块重要业务骨干十余人参会。

园区科创服务师人才认证项目始于2022年5月20日，由临港学院联合科产部组织集团系统25位科创业务骨干历经半年共创出的一套园区科创服务师认证系列成果（包含教材开发、题库编制、讲师培养及认证考试），并于2022年11月初完成首批学员线下培训和认证考试，为来自集团系统16个平台公司培养认证了39位科创服务师。科创服务案例开发是在去年基础上的创新和提升。

李刚指出，科创服务知识体系是集团知识管理工作的重要组成部分，科创服务案例开发是在上一年度科创服务师人才认证的基础上进行的再创新和再提升，要进一步发掘集团真实科创服务案例，关注科创服务各环节突出问题和矛盾，集中发挥优秀科创人才潜力，促进隐形知识显性化。他建议，在案例开发的过程中要秉持开放共享的原则，广泛借鉴国内外杰出经验，加强交流学习，切实提高集团知识管理水平，充分发挥业务一线经验的价值。童骏欣表示科创服务师认证构建了覆盖科创服务各专业领域的培训体系。他要求，在新一轮案例开发工作中，要创新科创服务方法，探索业务模式创新。一是要提高工作站位，在集团大科创体系的视野下，充分发挥一线专家的主观能动性，总结工作经验，推动科创服务知识体系优化迭代。二是案例开发要突出“实”、“新”二字方针，紧跟前沿趋势，广泛借鉴国内外先进机构的经验，保证案例编写的务实、创新。

启动会上，项目组就项目预期达到的成果和时间安排达成共识，就项目运营管理机制和团队激励进行了约定，并开启了案例开题共创工作坊。参会人员通过交流提问、创想绘画及头脑风暴等形式对各自专业领域主题、方向和相关案例开展研讨、形成共识，并明确了开发流程，将从标杆孵化器建设、科技政策服务、知识产权运营、科技金融服务、品牌活动举办等方向着眼，充分发掘、提炼既往案例，共同打造园区科创服务师认证教材2.0。

Baking Sourdough​

My doughy experiments offer me tasty bread and something else.

Beauty comes from simplicity

• To make sourdough, all you need are 3 simple ingredients – flour, water, and salt – to give crusty yet airy bread with layers of flavours. No fancy tools either – a bowl, weighing scale, a sharp implement, an oven, and your pair of hands.

Patience does pay off

• Sourdough requires time. It takes more than a day to make one and you cannot rush the process. There are no short cuts. If you do not allow enough time, the bread will turn out flat and gummy.

Being gentle helps

• Making bread requires strength to knead the dough, but it also requires restraint to build the essential gluten. It’s a blend of wrestling and waltzing. Overpowering the dough all the time generates unhappy outcomes.

Failing is a gift

• My sourdough journey started out as disasters. I followed all the steps in guidebooks and YouTube, but I couldn’t get the dough to rise. Trusting myself, I continued asking ‘why’, adjust and try, and magic happens. A satisfying journey. Now replicating a decent loaf is more predictable.

But I still have lots and lots more to learn and I’m enjoying it.

You Reap What You Sow​

The Songs​

Morning. Mandopop songs float in the crisp air. They come from the void deck of the same flat I’m in. Up on the 17th floor, the tunes are sweets to the ears. All time classics from the Power Station to Pan Yue Yun to Luo Da You and back to the Power Station. They are loud. But I don’t mind. I’m wiping our windows that look out to the far horizon and at times throwing chats with wife and kids. I find myself moving to the tunes, even.

But a group of people at the void deck closest to the same songs do not share my feeling. They are all in white and black. Suffering from a serious lack of sleep, now standing in rows, heads looking to the ground, occasionally stealing glances at the portrait in front of them. The songs are meant for the person who became a portrait – the favourite songs. These songs must be played before the long and tedious march to the resting place.

Work​

Work can be beautiful. To experience its beauty, we need a perspective that enables us to transcend, to climb out of its day-to-day routine. Up there, reflecting, we may be better able to appreciate the beauty of work.

When our heads are stuck in the mud, we lose this perspective. And in trying to discover it, the workplace isn’t helpful. When our days are filled with ticking the checklist, tapping away the keyboard, strategising how to please others, we often end the days with frustration and boredom. All becomes transactional. And we equate our time as showing up to pay the bills.

And yes work can be gruelling and many that produces a vortex of indifference, mockery, and anxiety.

I’m part of it, and I hate it.

But of course, it can be better. And that, for me, is the point of the transcending perspective. By climbing out of the muddy trench of the everyday helps us to stop off and remind ourselves that we are making something beautiful and what we do impact not only ourselves but those around us, and more.

Some people seek religion, philanthropy, or mindfulness lessons to achieve transcendence. But when we add what we do daily at work as a system of relationships with only one message – to make a positive difference to the people we touch – we have the potential to create incredible value.

The ripple effects are significant, even from the simplest job.

I would have liked not to have gone to Budapest. Not to have to spend 5 days drenched in the cold and rain without the sun, not to be able to stroll the Szechenyi Chain Bridge closed for renovation, not to have my kid fell ill for half the trip, not to have unpleasant encounters with transport, food, sightseeing, not to have been disappointed that a romantic city seen in my mind was actually a large construction site.

One rainy night, trudging my way through the chill back to the lodging, a piercing scream screeched over my head. Looking up, a convocation of black covered the sky.

A murder of crows. A stamp to my entire experience in Budapest.

But the strange thing is this, now back in the comfort of our home, whenever we look back at the moments and places we spent last December, Budapest always comes up top. We laugh and we feel good going through those moments together though we would have liked not to have occurred.

Strange. 

~ Earn Meng

Christmas day. Last day in Munich. We planned to reach The Englischer Garten in the afternoon. Well, it’s hard to stick to the plan while on holiday. We arrived at the garden in total darkness. My son shone a light from his mobile phone. He led the way.

I saw a photographic moment. Whipped out the camera, adjusted the aperture and shutter speed. Click. Click. Click. This is one of them. It became one of my favourites.

The context posed significant challenges and I couldn’t do much about it. The darkness, a dim oscillating light, and the moving target. It can perhaps be compared to the regular workplace in any organisation, filled with challenges devised to make failure the rule.

Conspicuous success requires knowing and navigating through the context you are in, even when the environment seems unpleasant.

And don't be disheartened when you don't get it on the first try.  

~ Earn Meng

The Storytelling Association Singapore Personal Storytelling Special Interest Group (PSIG) led by Earn Meng Chan. Here is a small note from Earn Meng about the PSIG and how he found storytelling. 

"Being a business executive all my life, like many of my peers, I scorned at stories – the soft-touchy feely stuff. We rely on analysis and information to get things moving. ‘There’s no place for stories in the professional setting’ was my belief.

Then one day, I stumbled onto the power of storytelling, specifically personal stories. I then worked in a bank. My boss, John, and I went to NUS to hold a recruitment talk for the graduating students. John was to give a 20-minutes presentation and I assumed he would do what all other recruiters did – talk about the bank, the role, and the full suite of benefits, all packed in beautiful slides. To my surprise, he did none of that. Instead, faced with hundreds of students in the auditorium, he told personal stories – how he took charge of his career when he stepped out of school and why he ended up with a bank. After his talk, throngs of students flocked to John and we merrily went home with huge stacks of resumes. That was a complete eye-opener for me. 

I wanted to learn all about storytelling. I joined SAS. That was a couple of years ago. With the encouragement and support from the wonderful SAS peers, I gathered the courage to start a Special Interest Group focusing on Personal stories. I was blessed to find like-minded folks with a similar enthusiasm. In January 2022, we started the Personal Storytelling Special Interest Group (PSIG). Our vision is to harbour a supportive and safe space for people to uncover and share personal stories, hone storytelling skills and confidence, foster closer ties, and have fun. 

In the months that have passed since then, we have met several times. In one of our sessions, we invited a professional storyteller to sharpen our storytelling skills. In other sessions, we simply gathered, and someone started telling a story. There is a saying that ‘Story begets story’.  That is exactly what happened time and again. Once a story was told, it triggered more stories in the group, and time just flew past. In one memorable session, we invited teens to tell their stories. One of them told us about a hilarious day in a gym, another was a story about a courageous moment of her beloved dog in the face of death. It was an evening of connection where age did not matter. Everyone had something to share.

To borrow the words of Christina Baldwin, “Every person is born into life as a blank page – and every person leaves life as a full book. Our lives are our story, and our story is our life.” Personal narratives are a powerful means to get to know who we are.'

Your first big assignment

Your best staff quit on you

The shoes on your feet

Behind each of them is a story

I’m excited to partner fellow story enthusiast, Swee Yean, to share personal story skills and experiences to fellow storytellers in the Storytelling Association Singapore.

Never A Straight Line​

All rivers, great or unknown, run to the seas. But they don’t run in a straight line. They meander – reaching plateaus and valleys, travelling winding paths crossing forests and dwellings. In so doing, they enrich more plants and animals. More boys are able to jump into and swim in them.

Why would we then expect our lives to project in a straight line? It is not only inevitable that life meanders like a river, but with the ups and downs we experience life fuller and richer.

Photo credit: Nick Russill, Unsplash

Take Your Stories Seriously​

Why?

Because they make us who we are. Huh?

We are made of flesh and blood and bones. Yes. But we are also made of stories. Every day when we rise from bed and until we hit the bed again, we experience life through a multitude of events and emotions – disappointment, joy, frustration, surprise, fear. And behind every experience, big or small, is a story.

But what really matters is not the events, it is what you make out of those events – what you hold up to the light, what you choose to remember, to tell. And slowly, your stories began creep into you and make the person you are, without you knowing it.

We make our lives fuller or restrictive, optimistic or dull, according to how we make sense of those stories of our lives.

For that reason, we must learn to take our stories seriously.

The 4 Characters In Our Lives​

There’s a lot of hype around the movie “Power Of The Dog”. So I clicked on Netflix, and I met these 4 individuals.

• Peter – Hero who saved the day.

• Phil – Sadistic villain towards Rose and Peter.

• Rose – Victim to Phil’s cruelty.

• Bronco – the elusive Mentor to Phil.

Hero, Villain, Victim, Mentor are forever present in any classic movie and novel. Frodo, Saruman, Smeagol, Gandalf. Harry Potter, Voldemort, Snape, Dumbledore. You get the idea.

Now let’s bring these 4 characters into your life. Have you ever met

• Someone who stepped up and made things better?

• Someone who made you small?

• Someone you pity?

• Someone who made you a better person?

And let’s bring it even closer to you. Have you ever felt

• You saved the day?  

• Vengeance?

• Betrayed?

• Knowledgeable and wise?

I already know the answers. These 4 characters are among us and within us.

That’s why we all love stories, they mirror our lives and emotions.

But it also gives us an incredible insight.

As in “Power Of The Dog”, “Lord Of The Ring”, “Harry Potter”, the Villain ended up dead or despised. The Victim, dead or miserable. The Hero and Mentor were the ones we celebrate and respect.

So,

• What character do you to be?

• What kind of story do you want to write of your life?

• What kind of life do you choose to live?

The good news is when we are faced with a set of situations, we have the power to choose who we want to be: villain/victim or hero/mentor. As we cultivate more positives and kindness, in thoughts and in actions, we step closer to the right roles. Our choice determines if we end up a Peter or Phil, Gandalf or Smeagol.

Stories made us. Conversely, we made the story.

Do This When You’re New In A Workplace​

In a company I worked in, the HR Recruiter would bring newcomers to the HR office and introduce them to the HR team. I was one of the HR team. We would engage in short chats with the new joiners and get to know each other. The session wouldn’t last more than 10 minutes.

One morning I was walking along the office corridor someone yelled my name, “Hi Earn Meng,” I raised my head and caught a lady walking towards me, waving and smiling.

“Ah, isn’t she a newcomer I met not too long ago. But what’s her name?” My mind raced to plug the gap.

“Hi!” I returned smile but I began to panic. And soon I admit with embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, I forgot your name…”

“Lilian.”

I was impressed and felt flattered that she remembered me even though our meeting was short and occurred a week ago.

Lilian made an impact.

When you move to a new workplace, you are bound to meet new people. And you will make an instant impact when you can call someone by name the second time you meet them, just like Lilian.

How can you do so? There are many techniques when you Google for it. Here I offer one that I found useful.

First, I repeat the person’s name at the start of the talk, something like, “Hi Lilian, nice to meet you.” And if the name is uncommon, I may say, “Wee Cheak, did I say it correctly? Can you spell it for me?”

And I’ll repeat the name again at the end of the talk, “Nice talking to you, Lilian.”

And somewhere during the conversation, if I can call the person by name again, I will.

By saying out loud someone’s name a couple of times, it helps me remember.

Sometimes, I pen the name in my notebook too.

This method is not full proof, but it improves my ability to remember names. And it always brings a smile to the other person.

The Noun Without The Verb​

A sentence requires a noun and verb to be complete: a subject (noun) with an action (verb).​

“Manager” is a noun, “lead” is a verb. ​

Some people want the noun but not the verb. We love having the job title on our business cards, but we leave the job of leading to others. ​

The noun without the verb is incomplete. ​

To be a manager is not an end by itself. It is a means to great stuff. ​

The verb is always more fun than the noun and it can even take the noun to amazing places. ​

Meetings

We offer two tips to leading meetings:

1. Talk less. Ask more. Listen with delight.

2. Embrace mistakes. Share your personal mistakes. They will encourage others to open up and share honest views.

From Stressed To Engaged

The Lion Dance

When I was working in the HR department of a bank, just before Chinese New Year, my boss said, “Let’s do a Lion Dance for the bank with our own HR folks. We will visit every department, give them the good luck lion salute, and collect red packets (monies wrapped in red envelops) for charity.”

I got sucked into this brilliant idea and instantly 3 HR folks got together to form a lion dance troop. One took on the role of the drummer, I was the lion head with another colleague forming the rear end of the lion.

We were young and energetic. After a few practices, we were ready to wow the crowd. 

When the day arrived, we put on the lion costume. We started at the highest floor. We reached the first department, its door opened with spirited colleagues waiting for us. They had red packets ready, not in their hands but hung high on ceilings. Eager eyes waiting to see what the lion could do to get to the monies. No sweat, this was no obstacle to us. The drum started, the lion stepped in, its movements swift and sharp. The lion head, that’s me, jumped high and grabbed each red packet with the lion’s mouth in a single leap. The drum stopped. The lion ended with a super pose. The crowd went crazy.

All subsequent floors were a repeat of the previous scenario. And soon I began to realise we had a problem: the bank had 50 floors filled with departments and we did not prepare for any backups. By the time we reached the halfway mark, the jumping and the weight of the lion head became too much for me. My head spun, I had to run to the toilet to throw out. I could stand straight no more.

And there were 25 more floors to cover with eager colleagues at the doors and red packets dangling on ceilings.

My boss and colleagues who followed the lion were all concerned about me. They handed me water, wiped cold sweat off my head, someone even took a bunch of toilet papers and started fanning me furiously. I mumbled, “Give me 5 mins, I should be ok.” Unanimously they said no. A colleague took over the lion head. The show went on.

What happened next was like parallel parking a car, we met with some cold shaves and we had to adjust now and then, but we pulled through eventually.

We collected lots of monies for charity that day. But what made that day unforgettable were those concerned eyes, warm arms, caring words, and the amazing peers who picked up the baton so the dance could go on.

Is the lion still dancing this Chinese New Year? COVID makes it unlikely. But if it does, it will be smooth with backup plans all in place.

Happy Chinese New Year.

A Uniquely Human Habit

We collect things. It is our basic instinct. Our great grandfathers collected jewelleries, figurines, vases, carved bones, illuminated books. Today, we collect stamps, Liverpool jerseys, Hello Kitty, Manga books, vinyl records, watches, bags. You name it.

Collecting things gives us immense pleasure. But agony too when we are unable to amass more, times when payday is still a distant away.

But there is one item that will not give us any agony. In fact, the more we collect it, the richer our lives will be. More smiles, more self-assurance, more wisdom. The more human we become.

Collect more of our personal stories.

There is no price tag. Anyone can do it.

Action!

One day my son, 13, wakes up and wants to be the next Steven Spielberg. He has crafted a compelling script with a camera, my phone, ready. Now what he needs are willing performers who share his dream and to do the hard work, for free.  

Enters his younger sister – the protagonist. His mom – the mentor to the protagonist. And of course, the villain, none other than me. The young Spielberg has a unique demand of his amateur performers – we are to be wrapped in blankets from head to toe, so no one can see who we are and that also means the poor performers are unable to see beyond the blankets.   

As with all classic script, at one point the villain slays the mentor leaving the protagonist helpless and broken. And the subsequent scene is set in pitch-dark where the protagonist, still wrapped in a blanket, pays a visit to her mentor’s grave that is lit only by a candlelight. And Spielberg Jr directs the protagonist that she is to crawl to the grave, removes her blanket, blows out the candle, and mourns for her mentor. This scene is shot in our dinner room at night with lights off and the ‘grave’ is set under the dinner table with a candlelight. 

This scene is retaken multiple times as the poor little protagonist, unable to see, walks and crawls in all the wrong directions and hitting herself against the dinner table. Twice, she bumps her head against the table.  

At one take, she finally reaches the ‘grave’ but then she fumbles in blowing out the resistant candlelight.

But the little sister does not make a fuzz. She keeps trying. All she wants is to help her brother make a successful shot and become the next Spielberg.

Where Do I Focus?

Questions to ponder.

• When I am a service provider, which of the 3 circles do I focus on? And in what proportion?

• When I am a service receiver, which of the 3 do I want the provider to focus on? And in what proportion?

Is there a mismatch?

Growing a Story

It was the Singapore National Library storytelling festival.

3 storytellers told stories about our animal friends. Attended by 10 over scores of kids online, their tiny heads filled the screen. Their hands and bodies moved with the tellers. Their eyes lit up, they sang along, they were immersed in the rollercoaster rides.

It was not 3 tellers telling stories, it was a mega flash mob.

The 3 of us started rehearsing together in August. We came together a couple of times, we listened to each other, gave views, and reworked. And I witnessed how our stories grew. The final telling in November was vastly different from the ones in August.

My storytelling coach, Doug Lipman, believes that a story should be grown by a nurturing process – telling, being listened to, adjusting, and retelling. Not punching it out from a keyboard and talking to a mirror. I agree.

The mega flash mob did not occur by chance, it was the fruit of personal dedication and mutual support.

Doors

Lately, I take to climbing the stairs of my apartment block as a form of exercise. I climb the 25 storeys, take the lift to Level 1, and climb again. Each level of the apartment houses 4 homes. Each home is separated from the outside world by a wooden door.

And every door is different.

Some doors are perpetually closed, protected by steel gates, armed with security cameras. Others are forever open. A few are ornately hand-carved but mostly are plain. One door is so light it shakes when the wind is slightly stronger, creating a banging sound. Some lucky doors are accompanied with cheerful plants and elaborate water fountains. Some luckier ones are blessed with a wall cross or its oriental counterparts. And one door hangs a bright blue sign, ‘Welcome Home’ with a bench by its side.

And behind each door is equally different.

The interior deco, the smell, the stories. Different. A world each family created for themselves.

But while different, the scenes inside are not too dissimilar. Home is a place where families sit down for dinner, make plans for the weekends, discuss what to wear for Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Deepavali, and wanting the best for each other.

Every door is unique yet identical. So are we.

The Red Bag

“Can we go to Ikea for breakfast?” My son pleads. “The queue will be long.” I reply. “I feel like having Swedish meatballs.”

So the family of 4 heads to Ikea restaurant. No queue. Quickly, my eagle eyes spot a table by the window with floor to ceiling glass panels overlooking the world outside. The table is spotless. The area bright, cheerful, welcoming.

Perfect

We settle down. I volunteer to stay and ‘guard’ the table while the folks go scoop up meatballs.

Alone, what do I do? Flip out the phone, of course. Mindlessly scrolling the news, growling at the virus situation, at floods everywhere.

At one point I look up, a foreign object caught my eye. I cannot believe what I am seeing, I slap myself, I look again and I sink into that ‘Oh Shit’ moment.  

Diagonally across our table, someone has placed a red bag on the chair. How can I not notice it? I quickly scan who could it be but there is no way to tell.

Now I’m in trouble

But when you are in luck, everything seems to work for you. I spot an unoccupied table good for 4, a stone’s throw away. Without a second thought, I lift my butt and rush for it. I occupy the new territory. The location is not ideal, it is next the tray return and rubbish area but it is certainly better than having one of us to stand for breakfast.

And almost instantly, a man and a woman take over the seats I have vacated. They seem happy.

This time, no more phone. I glue my eyes to the cashier so I can signal to my folks when they are done paying for food.

I see my wife emerging from the cashier, holding a tray in her hands, shocked to find 2 strangers at our seats, she shifts her eyes to hunt for me and manage to detect a man not far away near a rubbish area waving frantically. Her eyes wide open, mouth gaps (I can see through mask). It is like she is asking, “What happened?” When all my folks arrive and still standing with trays in their hands, I told them what happened.

My daughter snips in a dead tone, “That red bag is mine, papa.”

……

“But I have never seen it before,” I protested. “I took it from our store room this morning. You mean you didn’t notice all the while from home to here?”

……

We stare at that spotless table, continue to bask in light, now sits a man and a woman with lobster in hollandaise sauce and aglio olio in front of them, a brand new dish Ikea just launched.

And smiling.

……

The Virus

Once a week or so, I head to McCafe for a flat white. This morning, not Ravi, but Siti makes my expresso shots. Last week it was Siti again.

“Where’s Ravi?”

“Gone back to India. His father and mother got the virus.”

Ravi came here to seek a better life and found his passion in expresso. He dreams of running a café one day, bringing his parents here.

He likes to educate me on beans, acidity, and the brew.

While chatting, even with mask on, he begins his art, spreading the grounds carefully, tamping them with the right pressure so water distributes evenly.

The coffee is his canvas and milk is his paint – sometimes he fancies a flower, other times a star or a simple M.  

Intimate work.

I walk into this McCafe for the past 3 years and Ravi has been there. I know I will not see Ravi again.

And I know I will continue to get good flat white here, but it will not come from him.

The Sign

You cannot miss that tattoo on his arm. A hissing serpent wraps around the blade of a bayonet.

Throw back 40 years, I can imagine him at the center of the earth, upright with a chest of a muscle man, fast with an eagle eye, commanding respect of all who came near him.

That Serpent sign had been a Statement. Everybody knew who’s the Boss.

But on this chilly rainy morning, he is just another grey hair man patrolling among the tables in a coffee shop, slightly hunched with a creased old shoulder, smiling to passersby while picking up empty bowls and cups left behind by eaters who refuse to return their used stuff.

A life of hard stories contained in a body and mind gone soft.

Have you ever broken something that is dear to someone else?

When I was 12 years old, I was at grandma’s place. Grandma, my mom, and two other aunties were busy playing a game of mahjong (a traditional Chinese strategy game played by four people with pieces of tiles). I sat beside mom watching them play the game.

Grandma needed some eggs to cook dinner, so she tasked me to fetch eggs from a nearby provision stall, 20 to 30 eggs.

So I went alone. A pair of unsteady hands coupled with a constantly floating mind, there was only one outcome of this feat. All but a couple of eggs were smashed by the time I reached home.

What do I get? You guess it! When grandma saw that slimy mess of yellow slop, she fumed and gave me some serious scolding.

I was fuming inside me as well, “This isn’t fair! You expect a small boy to handle so many eggs and you and the rest of the adults play mahjong???”

When grandma was out of sight, I reached for her watch resting on a table and threw it out of the window. Grandma’s house was 3 to 4 storeys above ground level. Soon she found out her watch was missing and what had happened to it.

But this time, she chose to be silent. No scolding. No shelling.

The watch was never found.

Years later, I came to know that the watch was a Titoni, a precious timepiece at that time, and a gift from grandpa. And grandpa was no longer around.

This is one incident I wish I could turn back the clock to change the events. I would resist impulses to retaliate but to find other ways to manage my emotions.

Now, I have 2 kids of my own, 10 and 13 years old. I remind myself not to put them in unreasonable situations. I hang the Titoni incident in my head, especially now I am living on the 17th floor.

A Different Air

I am standing in front of the bookshelf that is sitting in the center of my living room. A dusty book “As I Lay Dying” catches my eye. It has to, as if it’s shouting to me,

“Buddy, you better pick me up this time, I’m lay dying here for the past 8 years.”

The book has a point, it is not right to ignore it anymore.

I first read it 8 years ago, brand new. I did not go beyond half of it. How did the story end? What happened at the Mississippi while the family buries Addie? It is time for a proper closure.

As I bring the book near, a mixed scent of smoky vanilla and grass after the rain fills my senses.

I inhale, and I inhale deeper.

As I open the book, I am further delighted to feel how the book has aged.

Vignette pages with lines as if it has been standing in a pot of Earl Grey for the past few years.

It gives an air of confidence, of wisdom, of grace.

Aging is beautiful

An Unexpected Gift

Saturday 5pm. I go jogging. I aim to clock a couple of kilometers. I haven’t been exercising lately.

Not long after I started, I pass by 2 girls standing under a huge tree. One of them holds a long pole trying to disturb something high up on the tree. The other girl seems to be giving some kind of command, “Left, left, right, left.” Curious, I stop running and approach them.

Our eyes meet and we smile at each other. They smile though they have masks on.

On closer look, the pole is made of 4 bamboo poles tied together. They are poles to hang clothes for drying. The combined pole is easily 8 meters long.

“What are you doing?”

“Mangoes!”

The girls are from the Philippines. There’s a bucket beside them half filled with mangoes. The girl gives a hard knock on a green fruit at the uppermost branch. It drops to the ground. Easy.

“Can I try”

“Sure”

I take over the wobbling pole, aim for a big green fruit and start knocking. The fruit won’t move. While I continue pushing the pole, I feel a sharp sting to my right hand,

“OUCH!” Big red ants!

They must have crawled from the pole and onto my hand. I panicked and hastily brush the ants off. It must be a mess. The girls keep giggling non-stop.

Ignoring the agony, I get back to poking the green fruit. Still no mango falls to the ground.

“Don’t poke at the mango. Aim at the stem.” A girl advises. And the mango falls.

After 10 minutes, I manage to knock down 2 mangoes. “You got 2 mangoes, we give you 2 more.”

I didn’t complete my jogging. But I got something better.

A human connection and 4 large mangoes.

What it takes is just a little curiousity and a smile.

What If

What if I do not choose to see that I’m in HR, he’s from Operations, and she works for the CEO Office? What if I do not choose to see that he’s a clerk, she’s a CEO, and that guy over there is a Manager? What if I do not choose to see that she’s a graduate from Harvard, he holds a degree from a local institution, and that colleague didn’t even complete high school?

What if I move on to see that he’s a member of this company, she’s part of this company, and I’m working for the same company? Will it change anything? 

We can even move this thinking to the next level.

What if I do not choose to see that he’s an Indian, she’s an American, and I’m a Chinese.

What if I move on to see that he’s part of this earth, she’s part of this earth, and I’m on the same earth.

To see that we live not differently and that we are not just flesh but intelligence.

Will it change anything?

Red Chilies

My mom walks me to the kindergarten when I’m five. It is a 10-minutes’ walk. She will have one hand holding my tender hand, the other holding a bunch of red chilies. She swings the chilies up and down, making sure I can see them. That will keep me quiet. It is a difficult 10-minutes’ walk for me.

I hate going kindergarten. Not that I do not like the school, it is a lovely one block building with a large field, we play lots of games in that field, and goodies await all the hungry kids during break times, red bean soup, millet soup, porridge. What I’m sick of is I have to write. Mom insists I must write with my right hand. I just cannot. I’m a left-hander.

Whenever I make a fuss before and during that 10-minutes’ walk, she says she will shove the bunch of red chilies into my mouth. And she will look at me and add,

“No great man ever writes with the left hand.”

A belief entrenched in her generation.

All moms want their children to be great.

Mom never pushes that bunch of red chilies anywhere near my face. I did not become a great man. But in my mom’s mind, I’m a great man. I know that.

Happy Mother’s Day, 9 May 2021

Human & '“Human”

Like it or not, AI will invade our lives. These smart machines are capable of performing tasks that require human cognitive intelligences such as reasoning, learning, problem solving, and interactions with the environment.

One day when 2 “persons” stand in front of you, who is flesh and blood and who is steel and cables? How can you tell? Well, asking them these questions may offer you some clue.

Will you go to war?

Human: It’s not right to kill. There’s better ways to resolve conflicts.

AI: Send me there now. It’s my mission.

Who is a friend?

Human: Someone who stands by me regardless of who I am

AI: The thing that powers me up

And the defining question would be,

What is (3.4 X 778.3) / 44

Human: What’s the matter with you?

AI: 60.1414

It Is Never The Same Rice Noodles

“Sam, what will you have for dinner tonight?”

“Hmm, let me see… Ah! I know.”  

• Set A

• Vietnamese spring roll, rice noodles, and grilled meat

• Yesterday I saw John having Vietnamese food with cold beer and they looked so delicious!

• Set B

• Vietnamese spring roll, rice noodles, and grilled meat

• I just feel like having Vietnamese food today!

• Set C

• Vietnamese spring roll, rice noodles, and grilled meat

• As you know, I plan to open a Vietnamese restaurant next year, I should try out this new Vietnamese joint, I heard they serve up fabulous grilled meat.

Set A, B, and C all look the same, but they are not.

If Sam’s answer is Set A, she’s are drawing from the PAST.

If her answer is Set B, she’s living in the PRESENT.

And if it’s Set C, Sam is planning the FUTURE.

How often are our decisions and actions guided by the Future?

A Dialogue between HR Recruiter and Hiring Manager

“So about the Facilities Officer opening, who should we give the offer to?”

 “I’m not sure. This guy has excellent résumé, a stable job record, and great references.”

 “He sounds great. He has all the relevant experiences about facilities management and excellent ideas on how to improve our security and cleaning processes.”

 “Wow!”

 “But there’s this other guy. His application looks messy. He job hops quite a bit. I even notice a coffee stain on his shirt during interview.”

 “Hmm…”

 “But I like him. Remember he shared about how he supported his mom while his father ran out on them and the other time he helped out a fellow co-worker?”

 “Yah, I like him too.”

 “He’s got so much personality especially when you compare him to the first guy.”

“Now come to think about it, the first guy is so rigid. I don’t think I want someone like that in my team.”

 “Yah, I cannot imagine spending 8 hours with him. But I can imagine working with the coffee stain guy. It will be fun.”

 “We should give this offer to someone with a heart, the coffee stain guy.”

 “It’s really no contest.”

 “Indeed! Let’s give the offer to the coffee stain guy.”

Who Am I

3 syllables, 6 letters, seems a harmless question. But I’ll rather you ask me, “Are UFOs real?” That would be a simpler question.

At times, I’m “Boss”. To people in my HR team or someone selling me an insurance policy. At times, I’m “Bro”. To friends or someone selling me an insurance policy. At times, I’m “Honey”. Regrettably those moments are few. Though more may get me in hot soup.

I’m friendly. I’m trusted. I like to walk the beach. But I’m not one where you can throw a bone and I’ll run to fetch it. No that’s not true. Sometimes I’m a dog, to my kids. A wolf. Or even a bus. Yes I’m a bus that my daughter sits on to fetch her from her room to the kitchen and back to her room.

I am one where a song by Teresa Teng will stop me in my tracks and transport me to the army days in Taiwan, in the camp canteen. All men busy, noisy until Teresa’s voice came through the muddy radio. All things froze. A soldier stopped munching and stared into the ceiling.

I am one who started life knowing few words. Now I know a thousand. One day I will no longer speak a single word.

So who am I? I’m one thing but I’m also many things. I have my dreams. Yes I do. But I would also rather be the thing at present. When I’m the boss, I try not to disappoint those who call me boss, less the one selling me an insurance policy. When I’m the bus, I play the bus.

Being Seen

My wife, our 2 kids, and I went out for lunch. We were walking together, and we passed by a subway station thronged with people busy getting on their own businesses.

I noticed a woman stationary in a corner. Her right hand was extended outwards. It seemed she was trying to hand out some brochures.

I shouted to my family, “Hey, wait a while, I’m going to get a brochure.” I deviated from my path and walked towards the woman while my family stopped and wondered what was going on?

“Papa, what you are doing?” My daughter caught up with me when I came face to face with the woman.

I extended my hand towards the woman. She shoved a piece of paper onto my hand.

The piece of paper was an advertisement for a restaurant.

She looked at me and whispered, “Thank you.”

My daughter looked at the brochure and exclaimed, “Papa, you don’t even eat in this restaurant. Why do you take the brochure?”

I looked at my daughter, “It’s not about the restaurant. It’s for the lady. Imagine you are standing there all day and being ignored most of the time.”

After lunch, we walked back the same path. This time, all four of us took a brochure from the lady. Walking off, my daughter exclaimed to me again, “Oh My God papa! She gave me two!” “She likes you.” I winked at her.

Next, we went hunting for a dustbin.

Don’t Underestimate A Small Fly

I sat in a park, opened a book and was preparing to enjoy a lovely Saturday. Then a fly begun to circle around my head, bz, bbzz…

I shook my head, signalling to the tiny bug, “Hey, I’m MUCH bigger than you, don’t you know.” The little guy persisted. I shooed it away with my breathe, “Don’t you know I can crush you with a finger?”

But the combatant fly got more aggressive. It attacked my hair, my ears, my eyes, bbbzzz, bbbbbbzzzzzz!!!

Now I was really mad. I engaged my palms aiming at the fly, clapping high and low. I employed my book as an additional weapon, frantically hitting the air left, right, centre. I jumped to increase my chances of success. It must had seemed like voodoo dance and attracted an interested kid who came near, stood there, and kept staring at me. An old lady quickly rushed to her and pulled her away.

Defeated and annoyed, I went home.

That night, while mindlessly browsing YouTube, a video of a frog caught my attention. It was sitting on a twig, still, silent, tracking some flies entering its vision. And then in slow motion, it opened its mouth, extended its tongue, and snatched a fly in midair. All done in one shot, with such grace, such ease.

Compared to the frog, I have bigger eyes, stronger hands, more sophisticated brain, ok I’ve a shorter tongue. Now all these added to the insult…

It only tells me one thing, the other guy may be smaller, but that does not mean it will make you more superior.

M.I.T.

My wise storytelling coach, Doug Lipman, said to me, “For a story to work, you must be clear of the Most-Important-Thing, and all parts of the story should revolve around the MIT.” It’s one of the best advices I’ve received.

Then I found that MIT is central to other provinces too – in the world of presentation you want to frame your talk around the “Big Idea”; if you are directing a film, you’ll be searching for the Controlling Idea; and if you are leading a team, you want your team to focus on delivering the KPIs for year. They come in different forms, but they all say the same thing.

If MIT can be applied to many different fields, can it be applied to life? I guess so. So what’s the MIT in your life? It is status, health, fun, great food, a good life, money...

For me, I’ve narrowed it down to a few. Choosing among them is tough. But if I must choose, I would pick time.

Time puts me and all beings on earth on equal footing, we have the same amount of time each day. Time is also the greatest healer, better than the doctor, the shaman. But most of all, time is always fleeing away from me; as I write these lines, slices of it are slipping away. If I were to draw a tiny box to represent a week, I’m alarmed how many boxes I’ve used and how many boxes I’m left with. It’s an alarm. And that brings me to another wise grey hair gentleman who said this, “We all have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.” 

Do we share the same MIT? What’s yours?

Receiving & Giving ~ The Act of Human Connection

This week, we introduce a poem we love

Hook ~ James Wright

2 men different in their background, outlook, and wealth. The better-to-do man was in trouble; met a man, a Sioux, who was in even deeper trouble.

Yet it was the Sioux who showed the man empathy and compassion.

And instead of rejecting the kindness, the man accepted it and as a result, erased the differences between them, bringing two beings closer together.

We just love it.

Believe & Practice. The Day Will Come

We all know Brad Pitt.

But many of us won’t know that his first leading role was in the movie: Johnny Suede, 1991. IMDb gave it a 5.8/10 rating. The movie’s production budget was $500,000 with a worldwide box-office gross of $90,000.  

I don’t think we will rush to watch it. Oh by the way, it’s neither on Netflix nor Apple TV.

But a year later, Brad Pitt came back with A River Runs Through It and then Legends Of The Fall and Seven.

And Brad Pitt became the one and only Brad Pitt. 

But first he had to go through Johnny Suede.  

After Johnny Suede, what went through Brad Pitt’s mind and what did he do? How one reacts to a less than glamourous moment and bounces back requires believe and practice.

We all have our Johnny Suede moments, but by believing in our work and carrying it through, one day our art will flow like a river running through it.

Would You Rather Be A Plane Or A Bird?

Both aeroplane and bird have something in common

They can fly

But the way they attain flight is not the same

A plane can fly because it is powerful

A bird can fly because it is light

If you wanna fly

Would you rather be a plane or a bird

When Prejudice Becomes Reason

It’s performance appraisal time and the new HR Manager reported to the Boss, “Our Sales Director recommends promoting Gary to Manager.”

The Boss smiled and replied, “Nope. Gary’s blood is AB and he’s the youngest among his siblings.”

The new HR Manager’s eyes opened wide. The Boss read the Manager’s mind and continued.

“Blood is grouped into O, A, B, AB. O will make good leaders. A are natural introverts, they will be good engineers. B are the opposite of A, extroverts and will excel in sales and frontline jobs. AB, mixing the extremes of A and B, are creative but can be unpredictable with mood swings. If all blood is the same, it would just be blood. But since they’re categorised, they must be different and they fill your body and your brain, influencing you every minute.”

By now not only the eyes of the new HR Manager were wide, his mouth too. 

“And being the youngest in the family, you’d be pampered especially you’re a boy. When you’re the eldest, you’re tasked to take care of the smaller ones and help your parents. You develop leadership and responsibility. The youngest, on the other hand, won’t turn tough. So AB and youngest child won’t make Gary a good leader. As our HR Manager, you must learn from me in identifying talents. This’s science.”

“That’s incredibly profound! The boss has seen a lot. Yah, one mustn’t go against science.” The HR Manager thought to himself.

The next day, the HR Supervisor knocked on the HR Manager’s door, “I recommend we promote Bernard.”

“Nope.” The HR Manager said, pleased with himself. At the corner of the table, you can spot a personal file titled – Bernard.

Working for a Prefectionist Boss (!Error!) ~ Perfectionist

“Working for Tim is crazy!” “When you make a spelling error, it’s a crisis!” “Yah, and you can’t reason with him, he’ll tag you the corner-cutter.”

Indeed, whenever you present something to Tim, you better be prepared for a ton of scrutiny, “Have you checked with this and that department?” “Have you considered the consequences if this happens?” “What’s your contingency plan for a strike?”

Tim could make his team members feel they’re never quite good enough, except for one – Roy. “Hey Roy, you’re so cool with Tim, how come?”

“It’s a pain actually. But what can you do? Quit? You’ve to take your hat off to the man. He’s always the first one in and the last one out. He just has that super high standards. Come to think of it, I’ve learned the most from Tim. It’s hard but my work quality quadrupled. Also I’m learning the behaviours I shouldn’t pick up.”

From my informal finding, we are likely to face 20% of bosses with perfectionist tendencies. That’s not a small figure! But almost none of them are bad people whose aim in life is to mess up your life. They are on a personal crusade to craft that magnum opus. Anything that gets out from their domain must pass their internal standards. Harmful? Certainly, when the act becomes not a desire to excel but a love of the smell of flawlessness detached from business needs.

While the boss sees a masterpiece in the making; the doer smells blood, tears, and overtime.

But there’s always a Roy, somewhere in us.

Oh yes, there’s tons of advices in the web on how to survive a perfectionist.

But perhaps your best Christmas wish is that your Santa HR sends them a perfectionist master black-belt to work with. “The best medicine always tastes bitter”, says the wise Orochimaru, Naruto anime.

The Fate of Sadek

A company engaged its security guard through a 3rd party agency. The agency changed 3 guards within a month, citing unstable workforce. And the guards who turned up were caught sleeping on duty.

One day, the company’s warehouse worker, Sadek, injured his hand and could no longer perform his manual duty.

The company made Sadek the security guard.

From that day onwards, no more trouble of guard changes and Sadek’s always wide awake.

Even better, Sadek never failed to wear a smile, he’s the sunshine once you entered the gate. On rainy days, he’ll run to you with an umbrella.

Sadek has that power to lift anyone entering his domain.

But there’s a problem. To be a security guard, Sadek needed to pass an official exam.

He made 3 attempts but he just couldn’t make it.

One day, a government official appeared in the company and looked at Sadek. “Some idiot must have whistle-blown”, as the rumour went.

The next day, Sadek’s gone; and gone with him were the sunshine at the gate and the shelter on rainy days.

Kool And The Gang. The Story You Tell Yourself.

A company was hit hard by COVID-19. To survive, it cut salary across the board – 40%. This persisted for 3 months. By the 4th month, it adjusted the pay cut to 30%, and to 15% in the 5th month.

A group of employees gathered in a corner, discussing the news. Sunken. “15%! This is Barbaric!” “Yah, how to survive with such pay!”

“Daylight robbery!”

While cursing, they noticed another group – Kool & the Gang – merrily strolled pass, cheerful and chatty.

“Hey Kool, what’s wrong with you? 15% pay cut and you can still smile!”

“No no no, we’ve pay increase!” Kool replied.

“What?!?”

“It is! Look at the facts. 2 months ago, our pay increased by 10%. This month gets even better, another 15% up! I’ve never gotten such huge increment within a short few months. Have you? Shouldn’t we celebrate?”

Sunken faces lit up.

We need more Kool & the Gang in the office.

When something happens, what story you tell yourself decides if it’s going to be good or bad. Negative narratives generate emotions and behaviours that won’t do you any good. But the opposite is true.

Is the glass half empty or half full? The story you choose affects you and those around you.  

When We Were Green

Charlene, a fresh graduate, steps into the workplace after 15 years studying, feeling confident, feeling eager. “I’ve done internship twice, no problem.”

But everything in the workplace seems so strange. So unlike the places of the last 15 years. People speak in languages Charlene couldn’t understand, MCOR, CRR, WAWE…

Everyone looks so smart, effective, efficient while Charlene’s lost, lost, lost.

“Why are the data I punched into the Oracle system missing?”

“A colleague whispers into my ears, ‘Do not trust what the boss says.’ Who should I trust?”

“An angry client shouting, what should I say to him?”

Who to ask? What should Charlene ask? Everyone seems so busy, dare not ask…

Like Charlene, I was there before. Even after years working, a change of job, a new environment is scary.

Do we have people like Charlene around us, what can we do to make things easier for them?