On leadership

There’re many things that make a good leader.

Willingness to help, a genuine interest in empowering their fellowship, a sincere involvement in causes they’re associated with… I could go on.

But, first, let’s talk about courage. Because that’s where it all starts.

What does it mean to be courageous leader?

The more I think about it, the more I realise that there are many types of courage. The physical courage to handle a team of rowdy millennials, the mental stamina to stand up to displeased contemporaries, and then the whole new realm of tackling business scenarios and making decisions. Every choice a leader makes on behalf of their team and business requires immense courage and ceaseless strength.

No wonder we have so many bad leaders. It’s not easy. Although most people I’ve seen crave for leadership roles in an organisation, I don’t think they know the implications that come along.

A leader exudes intense responsibility. Failing in that respect diminishes their credibility and deems them forever as an unsuccessful person. Besides, younger team members expect to learn from whoever’s in the leadership role. When that person lacks the courage—or backbone—to guide from example, they’re useless. When a leader places their own interest over the interest of those around them, they become an agent of foolishness.

That said, leaders face countless threats from all sides. And to deal with all that, they need to have their heart in the right place. Being able to empathise with their team members, share a genuine joke, and being open for discussion are important signals that a leader sends to their team. No two leaders will face the same struggles, and there aren’t stencilled ways to solve them.

Encouraging the team to share constructive criticism, listening to their opinions, assessing situations from multiple perspectives, and having a strong conviction about their decisions—all make for a great leader. The courage (driven by necessity) to shed their ego, to seek solutions to problems without losing their innate uniqueness—now that’s the kind of leader I want to work with (and then one day be).


Thanks for the muse, Tom Reid and the #ImpactMatters Twitter chat (Mondays at 7 pm Eastern Time).

Remember, remember

It don’t have to be the fifth of November.

Life is so full of events and people that make those moments worthwhile. Living in those moments, we make memories we cherish forever.

But we don’t always remember everything as it is. We forget quite a lot too.

Memory bias is real. That’s the problem. We choose what we want to remember, and sometimes we choose to forget uncomfortable incidents or people we don’t want to encounter again. We may forget the favour of a friend, the sacrifice of a parent, the persistence of a teacher—all just because our priorities shift.

And sometimes, our memories are no longer the same. We think we’re happy today, but when looking back at today’s memory years later, we may realise something more profound about this moment. Who’s to say, we may even feel then that the happiness of today was pretence—a result of societal pressure. Everyone has their own stories, their own perspectives. What is a good or bad memory depends on who we are at the moment. After all, as the years go by, as we mature, even memories (and memories of those memories) fade away.

And that’s why we shouldn’t rely too much on memories. Although there’s so much we can learn from remembering the past, it’s also so easy to overdo it. It doesn’t do to dwell in the past and forget to live in the present. And sometimes, we do just that. We let precious memories of days gone by cloud our judgement and hinder our progress.

It’s like the trivial selfie culture. People obsess over photographing places and things, so much so that they’re no longer in the moment. Our intense desire to memorialise an incident, drives us away from internalising the memory itself.

In the same way, we obsess with the good old days that we fail to realise that better days will come. And therein lies the inertia of making new memories, of trying new things. We worry so much about living up to the past that we forget to live in the present, fearing that the future wouldn’t be as good as the past.

Let’s be thankful for the past, remember it with gratitude, and use it to shape ourselves a better future. The past isn’t a curse we should cling to. It’s, instead, a lesson that we should live through, learn, and pass on.


Thanks for today’s muse, Kumud and #SpiritChat.

Game age

English teachers at the Mount High School stared at each other. “Methinks,” a student had opened her essay. She wasn’t the only one.

Although they mixed up thou and thee, all of a sudden students were making conscious, albeit tardy, efforts to converse in the ancient tongue. As if a great wave of archaism had swept over the school.

Perplexed, sixty-year-old Professor Henry questioned Timothy.

“Oh, we’re practising for this game—Speak like Socrates. Whoever speaks the longest wins an iPhone.”

Socrates was Greek, Henry wondered. But Tim had left. It wasn’t about the language. ‘Twas all about the game.