I STARTED BLOGGING NOT BECAUSE OF DISCIPLINE

When I was in primary school, I often watched my teachers write comments in our exercise books or neatly write Chinese characters on the blackboard. There were no mobile phones back then, and certainly no computers. Yet, I loved writing. I loved having pen pals. Every time I received a letter, I couldn’t wait to think about how I should reply and what I wanted to share. Writing letters was one of the things I looked forward to the most in those days.

Many years later, at a moment I can no longer clearly remember, I came across Google’s blogging platform. That was when I developed a new interest—writing weekly reflections on a blog. At first, writing was simply a way for me to release work stress and emotions. But as time went by, it slowly turned into a “task.” When writing became an obligation rather than an expression, I gradually stopped.

This year, I rebuilt a new blog and gave myself a direction: to write one article every week. I used to think that writing weekly was far too frequent—where would I find so many topics? Besides, I’m quite close to being a homebody, and my life doesn’t seem particularly exciting. But looking back at the years I’ve lived and the experiences I’ve accumulated, I realized that I actually have many stories and reflections worth sharing. Every article, in one way or another, can leave behind something useful for those reading on the other side of the screen.

Writing also helps me focus on how I want to express myself. Much like writing a speech, I constantly ask myself: What do I want to say? How should I say it? What is the message I truly want to convey? When writing becomes a thinking process, it no longer feels like a burden—it becomes a form of reflection and grounding.

About fifteen years ago, I slowly became aware of the importance of discipline. Every year, I would set goals and write to-do lists, telling myself quietly, “This time, I must persist.” Yet before long, I would stop. Looking back, there were many possible reasons—ability, time, energy, laziness, or uncertainty about whether I was heading in the right direction. I came to realize that discipline often means forcing ourselves to do things we must do, but don’t really enjoy. No wonder it feels painful. At the beginning, novelty might trigger dopamine and bring short-lived excitement. But once the freshness fades, continuing becomes difficult.

Later, I finally understood that cultivating habits, rather than relying solely on willpower, makes a difference. When each repetition allows me to discover something new or gain a new insight, the satisfaction feels less like dopamine and more like the steady fulfillment brought by endorphins.

So this year, instead of obsessing over goals or discipline, I chose to focus on building habits. Blogging is one of them. I currently manage two blogs, and over time, writing has slowly integrated into my daily life—like waking up in the morning, brushing my teeth, working remotely, reading the Bible, turning off the power, locking the door, and driving to the office. It has become part of a natural system. Writing is no longer hard to sustain; in fact, it feels increasingly effortless.

Since the year before last, I’ve also become more active in Toastmasters. I paid to join two clubs, learning public speaking, communication, and leadership roles in my own club, while also accepting invitations to speak or serve as an evaluator at other clubs. I hardly ever say no. Over time, this too has become a habit. Just two nights ago, I drove for an hour with visiting Toastmasters leaders and club members to attend a meeting at Tawau Hills Park. In the past, I might not have had the motivation to do so. It’s not that my discipline suddenly improved—rather, once habits are established, many things that used to feel troublesome begin to feel natural.

Writing allows me to record my life, but also to share meaningful ideas and perspectives, so that we can grow together when facing life’s challenges. At the same time, it helps me continue refining my writing skills. I often feel that writing is like giving birth. Each completed article feels like welcoming a new life into the world. Every piece is different, and each one accompanies me in its own way. During the writing process, I constantly learn new words and gain new insights. That feeling is much like finishing a good book and suddenly experiencing a moment of clarity.

Yesterday, I visited a student’s home and enjoyed a cup of hand-brewed coffee. It’s a kind of specialty coffee I usually wouldn’t spend money on. But through moments like this, I get to exchange thoughts on life, values, and travel experiences, and I gain inspiration in return. Compared to strictly demanding discipline from myself, I much prefer my current rhythm of life—one with connection, learning, and a sense of spaciousness.

If you enjoy sharing stories too, feel free to follow along. Let’s continue this journey together.

 

FROM TEAM BUILDING TO LEADERSHIP TRAINING: LESSONS NOT WRITTEN IN THE HANDOUTS

Last Saturday morning, the weather was exceptionally pleasant — no dark clouds, no sudden rain.  My work in the morning went smoothly, and I arrived at the airport on time. After parking the car, I walked into the terminal to meet my fellow club members. We boarded the plane without delay, enjoyed a smooth flight, and landed punctually.

My brother (who is also the K Division Director) was already waiting at the airport. He picked us up and brought us for a hearty breakfast. When we arrived at the café, several Toastmasters leaders and the team-building facilitator were already there. We chatted, took photos, and enjoyed breakfast together in a relaxed and cheerful atmosphere. Shortly after, we made our way to the venue for the team building and leadership training — Seaside Travellers Inn.

Located in Kinarut on the west coast of Sabah, the resort sits right by the sea. The setting is simple yet comfortable. Upon arrival, I instinctively took out my phone to capture the seaside view. Leaders from Toastmasters clubs across Sabah had gathered here. After registration and collecting our room keys, we were guided to the restaurant for lunch.

The lunch was satisfying, but what truly caught our attention was the sea view outside. We ate, talked, and enjoyed the scenery at the same time. Two other leaders and I were assigned rooms by the sea, with a balcony facing the sea at the back. Being able to hear the waves at any time from our rooms drew quite a bit of envy from others.

After lunch, the team-building activities officially began. Most people associate team building with socialising and bonding, but this experience felt different. We were told that the K Division leaders had spent months working closely with the facilitators to design these activities thoughtfully. There were no intense physical games — all activities were conducted indoors — yet every one of them was meaningful. These were not activities you simply “play and forget”, but experiences that left us with insights worth bringing back to our clubs and daily lives.

 

Activity One: TFAR

The facilitator first invited us to list the challenges faced within our clubs, especially those related to people. We then analysed them using a simple framework:

TFAR

T – Thought

F – Feeling

A – Action

R – Result

When a person encounters a challenge, a thought arises, followed by a feeling. That feeling then influences the action taken, which eventually leads to a result. This activity helped us realise that beneath conflicts or problems, feelings are often the most crucial element that needs attention.

The facilitator guided us to practise having conversations during conflicts by asking:

1. What caused you to feel this way?
2. Why do you feel this way?
3. What can I do to help you feel better?

These may seem like simple questions, but they are powerful soft skills — useful both in club leadership and in workplace communication.

 

Activity Two: Clarifying the Gap

Next, we were asked to list our current situation within the club. This included challenges, such as a shortage of members, as well as strengths, such as satisfactory educational progress.

We were then guided to describe our ideal situation, and to reflect on one key question: What is missing between now and where we want to be?  Once the gap is clearly identified, goals and strategies can be set, and progress can be made within a timeline. The facilitator shared a statement that left a strong impression on me:

“A problem is half solved when it is well-identified.”

 

Activity Three: From Strangers to Conversation

By evening, we moved on to the third activity. Participants were regrouped, and each team secretly selected two members with unique experiences or traits — such as having won a championship, their biggest childhood fear, or their most embarrassing moment.

Each team then appointed one person to read out the clues, while members from other teams were allowed to ask questions not directly related to the answers, in order to deduce who the mystery person was. Laughter filled the room, especially when one reader accidentally let slip the word “she”, triggering instant laughter as everyone immediately guessed it must be one of the female members in that group.  Through humour and curiosity, the activity encouraged us to practise communication — especially initiating conversations with people we were not familiar with.

 

By the time the activities ended, it was already close to midnight. Some members stayed back to discuss club matters, others went out for supper, while some leaders continued chatting. As I had been juggling remote work alongside the activities throughout the day, my mind was already saturated with information. I decided to return to my room and rested until morning.

The next day, after completing my remote work, I walked to the restaurant for breakfast. It had not opened yet, so a few of us sat by the sea, quietly watching the waves. The tide had receded, and the morning air felt especially fresh. Once the restaurant opened, we finally sat down for breakfast.

 

From Team Building to Leadership Training

I felt the first day of team building like reorganising relationships between people. The second day of leadership training, however, focused on how these relationships could be transformed into a structure that allows an organisation to function sustainably.

The leadership training was conducted by Division K leaders. What stood out to me was that the trainers did not simply “teach”. Instead, they designed many interactive sessions and practical exercises, allowing participants to immediately reflect on and plan for their own clubs. The speakers also shared personal experiences, offering ideas we could adapt and discuss.  During the sharing sessions, I noticed how humble some club leaders were. Their sharing was sincere and grounded — not exaggerated, not performative. Their words conveyed that they were people who genuinely put in the work.

After the training, we took many photos together. The delegation travelling with me returned to Tawau that evening, while I stayed on for another night to focus on remote work. That night, me and several leaders gathered again for dinner, enjoying a generous seafood meal before heading to karaoke.

 

This journey was a blend of learning and rest. I am truly grateful to the leaders for their thoughtful planning, and to the sponsors for their support. These two days of team building and leadership training have broadened my perspective and given me space to reflect — allowing me to continue growing through learning.

 

#TeamBuilding #LeadershipTraining #Toastmasters #LeadershipGrowth #LearningAndGrowth

#HeartfeltReflections #ReflectiveLearning #TeamBuildingInsights #LeadershipLearning

 

AFTER DECLUTTERING, MY HOME AND MY MIND — FEEL LIGHTER

At the end of 2025, I took a good look around my home and realized something very clearly — I had too much stuff.  So much of it was no longer in use, or simply no longer useful. I reached out to a friend who volunteers with Tzu Chi, hoping to donate these unused items to people who genuinely need them.

What prompted this decision was actually a very ordinary moment. One day in December, after completing a routine online training session, I sat down on the sofa to rest. A thought crossed my mind: Will next year’s performance be better?  If I wanted to move forward, perhaps I needed to do something different.

 As I looked around, I noticed how many things in the house were no longer serving any purpose. At times, we even struggle to find what we actually need. These unused items don’t just take up physical space — they consume our time and mental energy. Searching, organizing, storing — all of it is exhausting. That was when the idea of decluttering came to me.

I knew I would need several large boxes.  So I went to Sunlight Pharmacy, where I regularly buy caregiving supplies for my mother, and asked the staff if I could have a few cartons. Perhaps because I’m a regular customer, they kindly let me choose the sizes myself. I picked four large boxes, each about half the size of an office desk.  One morning, I placed the boxes in the living room: one for paper, one for plastic, one for aluminum cans, and one for fabric items. Then I began sorting through the house, placing unwanted items into their respective boxes.

After spending most of the day, I uncovered quite a number of things that truly needed to be let go. Some items had been kept because I once believed, “I might need this someday.” That “someday” turned into ten years. Many of those items were still unopened, covered in dust. This time, I made up my mind — no matter what, they had to leave my life.

During the process, I stopped in front of a stack of documents and hesitated for a long while.  They were materials related to MeSTI food safety certification. When I first registered my company, I was determined to provide MeSTI consultancy services. Seven years passed, and not a single project was completed successfully. I had even experienced doubt and dismissal from others. I asked myself: Do I still want to hold on to this?  Those documents had been lying there quietly, constantly reminding me of an unfulfilled aspiration. Over time, they became an invisible weight, leaving me feeling suffocated.

In that moment, I made a decision — to let go of these materials for now and redirect my focus toward work that truly moves me forward.  As I continued organizing, I found an old plastic cabinet that hadn’t been used for years. On impulse, I cleaned it thoroughly and placed it in a newly cleared corner, using it to store work equipment that I actually need now. Once everything was done, I followed Tzu Chi’s recycling schedule and sent all the items to the recycling center. The back of the truck was filled to the brim. My wife and I exchanged a smile — we owned far more than we had realized.

When we returned home, the extra space brought an unexpected sense of ease. Not only were things easier to find, but my mind also felt noticeably lighter. Through this decluttering process, I learned to let go more decisively of things I no longer need.  Over the past few years, I’ve gradually developed the habit of buying only what is necessary — because earning money isn’t easy. In life, I’ve also begun to detach from activities, social circles, and work that no longer serve me. Sometimes, what we truly need to clear isn’t just physical clutter, but outdated expectations and attachments that no longer fit who we are.

This decluttering experience reaffirmed something important for me: only by letting go of what no longer suits us — including old beliefs — can we make room for new ideas and a fresh start. Stepping out of our comfort zone is often where new possibilities begin.

I believe doing a decluttering exercise once a year is actually a good practice. When the home holds less, the mind carries fewer distractions. More importantly, it creates a valuable opportunity to reflect on the year that has passed.

If life feels a little crowded lately, and your heart feels a little heavy — perhaps start with just one box.

 

#Decluttering
#MinimalLiving
#LifeReflection
#PersonalGrowth
#YearEndReview

I DIDN'T MAKE ANY NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS

We have stepped into 2026.  Over the past few days, as I scroll through Facebook, I see many friends reflecting on how 2025 went and planning what they want to achieve in 2026.

After turning 45, I have tried, almost every year to plan the direction of the year ahead. But often, not long after the new year begins, usually around February or March, unexpected things start happening that disrupt original plans. To keep life stable, I have no choice but to sacrifice what I planned and focus on what is urgent. And just like that, the plans get shelved. Before I realize it, another 365 days have passed.

Last year came with its fair share of messes. My emotions fluctuated a lot. But within that chaos, I also learned some lessons that were genuinely useful to me. I kept what suited me and began building habits that I believe can help me grow steadily.

So this year, I made a different decision—

no goals, only dreams.

Some might say that without goals, there is no direction, and action becomes aimless. And if there is no action, everything we expect, is just dreams. I don’t disagree. But I have come to realize that having dreams alone is not enough. And, no doubt. Action matters—but habitual action matters even more.

To me, habits are a source of momentum and a kind of automatic system. They don’t force me to do things I don’t believe in, at the wrong time or in the wrong setting. Instead, they allow me to complete what needs to be done, at a rhythm that feels right.

For example, at work, I often need to retrieve files from my computer, process documents, submit reports, or remind others of certain matters at specific times. Over time, I learned to anticipate when it would be best to handle these routine tasks—such as organizing everything right after completing the last job of the month. I later realized that what helped me survive periods of chaos was not planning itself, but the small actions that had already become habits.

These habits allow me to almost “automatically” complete what must be done each month—accurately and on time. Every step leaves a trace, a form of evidence. Even if something goes wrong, I can track it back instead of reacting in panic.

Gradually, I applied the same approach to daily life, financial planning, and community activities. After learning how to use Google Calendar, I became more intentional about planning my days. In the past, I used notebooks for this too. But when plans constantly failed to keep up with changes, motivation faded. Eventually, I questioned the meaning of planning at all and gave up.

Later, I understood something important: unexpected events happen every single day.

Take New Year’s Day as an example. I had planned to watch the movie A Step Into the Past with my family. Less than half an hour after the movie started, I received a work message and had to rush back home to deal with it on my computer. By the time I finished and returned to the cinema, the movie was already over. In that moment, I felt like an on-call doctor—always on standby. Similar situations happened countless times last year.

It's just work, not much to complain about. When these things didn’t go as it planned, the only option is to adjust the plan quickly—and this is when Google Calendar truly helps. It allows instant changes and timely reminders. Slowly, I learned how to keep moving forward within constant change. Little by little, my life began to feel flexible rather than out of control.

So this year, I gave myself only one task:

to activate my own automatic system.

Beyond stabilizing my work and life, taking care of my mother, and handling daily household matters, I am also deliberately cultivating habits that create value—writing, public speaking, serving in meeting roles, and participating in group activities. I believe that once habits are formed, momentum naturally follows. This makes value creation feel lighter and more genuine than forcing myself to chase specific goals.

More importantly, I have started to enjoy the process. When tasks are completed one by one, there is a quiet sense of satisfaction. Even without an audience, I know this much: I am making progress.

If you often find your life interrupted by unexpected events, perhaps it’s not that you lack discipline. Maybe you are simply living a life that requires a flexible system.

In 2026, there are no resolutions and no grand declarations.

But I know this—

as long as my habits remain, I will not stop.