Leap Walking

I haven’t been blogging for awhile, and here’s why – I’ve had a go at living a normal life. I checked my twitter messages a lot less, unsubscribed to Wired’s Top Stories and a whole bunch of other popular feeds, and instead I just… “did stuff”. I spent a bit more time cooking at home, dining out at different places around London, devoting more focused time to my day job, getting through my large stash of ebooks and audiobooks and listening to more music through some really amazing earphones I bought a few weeks ago.

Good life, slower life

I’m quite happy about the progress. Comparatively, there’s a lot more junk on the internet, and being able to consume quality experiences in a much longer duration (preparing a meal, reading a book, going out for dinner with my wife) has been more satisfying to say the least.

One thing that bugs me is the sheer amount of experiences out there I feel I ought to try. And it’s a bit scary – because it feels a bit unsafe, a bit edgy… something that demands a bit more commitment and resources than clicking buttons all day. Because I know I can read the best tutorial about designing a chair and it won’t come close to what it’s really like to build a chair (just as an example).

Today I attempted to cook fried rice again – a dish I’ve cooked countless times, but have never perfected. And although it tasted a little better, it wasn’t good enough. And, it seems I could spend more time perfecting a good fried rice, or I could go learn to cook something else… but again that’s like another lesson all over again.

More risks, more planning

The thing is – I’m at the point in my life where I am calculating more than I am taking risks. I don’t want each attempt to be wasted. Not all risks that are taken will lead to learning and success. Idiots do exist, and I don’t want to end up being one.

I’m shifting my focus away from the younger generation, a generation I learnt a lot from in previous years. Some things in life don’t change, and there’s a reason why history repeats itself. In a single lifetime, I believe it is possible to learn from our past, and make a difference a day at a time towards a better future – my future.

In a sense, I’m going to stop looking to the future in order to fix my past.

I’ve been bored of the Internet lately. I’ve stopped checking my twitter messages, reading my newsfeeds, and going on sites I used to frequent just for the fun of it. I feel completely overwhelmed by information, and I feel wholly inadequate to survive the 21st century.

Everyone seems to be really upbeat. Articles are constantly talking about the next best thing. And for some reason, no one seems to want to stop. It’s really scary – everyone seems to be really getting ahead in life, and I feel really out of step – like stepping on a dance partner’s feet or something.

It’s like I’m expecting someone to tell me – “it’s okay to stop living for awhile”, “leave the laptop in the bag”, “forget about how your friends are doing”, “go to bed”, “it’s not going to make any difference whether the Palm Pixi is going to be a hit or not”, “it’s okay to do the same boring thing over and over again”.

Because in some ways, that’s what I’m doing now. And I don’t feel like I can change my circumstances very much, such that I have exciting things I absolutely needed to share with the whole world. I just don’t have anything going on at the moment that’s very exciting. And I’m thinking that’s what a lot of people call, “a mediocre life” – when folks start settling down and getting into a routine of things.

I actually believe that most people live mediocre lives 90% of the time. That they have routines that don’t change very much. Or wishes and dreams that seldom get acted upon. And conversations that don’t change very often. And time seems to just seems to drift by. And for these people, that’s just the way life is.

I actually don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but the Internet is inherently a very explosive sort of environment – an explosion of activities. Emails. Blogs. Messages. Articles. Feeds. Comments. Streams. Votes. Tags. Notes. Clicks. If all this activity ever grinded to a halt, then the Internet would cease being the Internet.

It’s like – on the Internet – you can’t ever be someone mediocre. It’s almost like you needed to be someone with an opinion worth giving, or someone with a message worth sharing, or someone whose goals were so important that you needed to click on stuff or to read something or respond to something. You couldn’t just be “nobody” on the Internet, because everyone else is a nobody and it’s like you need to prove that you’re not because it already became so brain-numbingly easy. Just click. Or reply. Or comment. Or upload that photo. Something. Anything.

But, here I am with absolutely no motivation to check my twitter messages or read my newsfeeds and I’m telling myself it’s fine. It’s fine to be mediocre, and to just live the way some people live – without a care in the world.

The Loneliness of Enduring a Change

I met an old friend for lunch today. She was talking about making a big change in her life, and we were talking about how scary that whole process is. We talked a long time about the sort of ups and downs you go through when you make big changes like that – the fear of being alienated, of making the wrong choices, of not knowing exactly what to do, but more importantly – doing it alone.

Making these big changes in our lives, as we were brought up to value stable jobs and live comfortably, is akin to abandoning our roots, values, and partly, the security of the family community. While this isn’t ostracism, the abandonment comes from a lack of understanding – family and friends just don’t know what in the world we’re getting into and can’t give us the guidance, mentorship and support we really need. It’s not that they won’t – they just can’t.

And it’s just not about money or a place to stay. It big hurdle about surviving a change is the rite of passage that you need to go through to get started, establish yourself in a new place, and finally succeed.

Change Hurts

When I made a decision to leave a comfortable life in Malaysia, I got really depressed and my wife had to push me to get the visa done because I did not have the energy to do it myself. It was depressing selling away all the IKEA furniture that I painstakingly and lovingly bought and put together, some not even a year old. The worst was seeing the lovely Edefors oak table being draped by my wife’s grandmother with a plastic tablecloth to “protect” it – a very Asian thing.

Needless to say, it was sad to see my friends and family for the last time. I wasn’t sure how to react – how do you put on a face in front of some of your closest mates and tell them you’re leaving for good? Everything had to be done fast so I didn’t have time. What time I had, we just spent like good old days having meals and good laughs. Through all this, we had our visa turned down once and my wife and I had several arguments in the heat of anxiety. It wasn’t the best of times.

Yes, once the apartment and furniture was sold off, a big burden had lifted off. We were elated when my course acceptance came in the mail in the nick of time. We knew we had friends and relatives in London who were welcoming us with open arms. We knew and loved the city. I was excited about the course, and the possibilities. We felt God’s peace and felt that it was the right thing to do. But it was still a painful process – I have the memories of those things we went through, a testament of our journey.

I Network out of the Need to Survive

At times like these, real and authentic relationships were the only thing that got me back up and running. I could’ve said we survived on dreams and inspirations, or on the timely opportunities of job offers, or on the creature comforts like having our own accommodation. But friendships and precious encounters I’ve had from meeting like-minded people – people who share the same vision and goal – are the sorts of things that plant my feet firmly here in London: family, friends, coursemates, new friends I’ve met from the industry, colleagues.

Thinking back – these relationships didn’t just fall into my lap. Some relationships happened only because I went out and searched for it. Some took a lot more effort and time. But I knew that I needed it in order to survive. And that’s what change does to you.

Change forces you to take hold of what you need most in order to survive for the long run. It’s like being stranded on an island and re-learning the fundamentals all over again – what it really means to live. I don’t simply talk about the people I’ve met and how things “worked out” for me – as though others should try networking like it was putting on a new pair of jeans. These people mean much more to me than just opportunities.

You can tell yourself all you want about how inauthentic networking can be and how artificial that whole experience feels. Or, you can tell yourself that it sucks being alone with your ideas and that you need genuine relationships and genuine conversations over things that you really do care about.

For me, I did it because I knew no other way.

My wife and I used to live in a fairly large apartment overlooking a lake. It had a huge hall, a full kitchen, 3 sizable bedrooms, and a decent store room. By Malaysian standards, this was considered to be somewhat of a luxury for someone at my age, but at the same time – it was owned by my parents who willingly let us live there and have us pay them back whenever we had the means.

It was comfortable, no doubt, but it was hard to say that it was home. The hall was quite empty because we couldn’t afford to furnish it. We didn’t use the swimming pool and gym as much as we’d like. The only thing I really miss about it is the convenient parking space, which offered shelter from the rain. It was hard to say we could afford a place like this.

Outward looks can be deceptive

Now, we’re in London, in a small rented studio about a third the size of the previous apartment, and we both feel more at home here. Maybe it’s because we both made the decision to live here on our own, and that we’re both paying for the rental of the place, and we’ve still got a bit of room to breathe in terms of spending.

I find that I do more homey things, like cook meals at home, and vacuum the floor, and rearrange the furniture, and decorate the place. I feel, for once, that I am in control of my living situation, and that’s quite a breath of fresh air.

Satisfaction comes from inside you

I think that all of us yearn for a place to belong, somewhere along our adulthood. There’s something about enjoying the fruits of our labor, and a home is quite often the place that one does that. Somehow, with the apartment my parents provided us, it felt a bit like a short cut, and somehow that didn’t sit right with me.

The reason I’m saying this is because I’m constantly re-evaluating my life. What is it that truly makes me satisfied? With consumerism often choking out what’s important to us, it’s good to step back and count our blessings. No, we might not be at the top of the game, in the eyes of someone else – but inside us is what really matters – it’s really not faking it, and it doesn’t go away.

I Internets, Therefore I Am

Having the internet as a big part of me is scary. It’s scary because I’ve let so much of my life be transformed by it. I don’t know how I got here, but I admit that using it has influenced me to stop watching TV, switch jobs the last few times, change the way I socialize with people, improve my domestic skills, and got me and my wife to pack our bags and move to England.

Also, it’s scary how so much of the future is going to arrive at my doorstep tomorrow. Maybe this is a curse of being a technologist, and one devoted to saving the world through it. It makes me wonder what kind of person I would have turned out to be if I read newspapers everyday, stuck with popular advice, and gone for an RM100k-a-year neck-and-tie job that would’ve made my life more cushy, if we had decided to remain in Malaysia.

It’s also scary how much I believe from the things I read.

I remember stumbling upon Penelope Trunk’s posts and being so inspired by it. Maybe because at the time, I was really feeling depressed at work, and longing for something a lot bigger than myself. That was what got me started with this blog. Somehow I had this impression that work-life in Malaysia seemed a lot worse than it seems, and I actually went around telling people to believe that and that it’s possible to achieve their dreams.

And thinking back, I don’t know if I was right. But I believed it and I still do now… but the point is, it wouldn’t have happened if I had not been living off the internet like some crazed hobo.

Is the World Really Changing?

My wife is fairly net-moderate. She’s literate, but she doesn’t feel she needs to check her Flickr or Facebook page every so often, like I do. Her inbox is filled with emails she hasn’t opened for days, weeks, sometimes months. Her job does require her to administer a Drupal site for the charity she’s working for, but it’s just a job. She’s dabbled with GIMP but that’s because it’s free and I told her to give it a try. The only thing she really relies on the internet for is streaming japanese dramas and mangas from fansub sites. If the internets died tomorrow and cellphones didn’t work, she wouldn’t give a hoot, except for maybe the lack of mangas.

On the other hand, I hang out with people who send twitter posts everytime they enter a pub. A core group of us coursemates organize events purely by @replies, it makes email look obsolete. I open up Gmail, and I get a Facebook notification from a friend who’s coming to visit the UK, and then another, and another, over a span of a week or so. No one asks for directions anymore, because it sounds silly if you don’t know how to use Google Maps. I am assimilating deeper and faster into an industry that lives and breathes technology, and will not sleep until all of creation’s problems are solved by it.

The contrasting realities are two perspectives I find hard to bring together, partly because they’re both a big part of my life.

I sometimes feel it’s like that out there in the world, too. That there’s a gap that’s moving in all sorts of directions and it’s hard to make sense where we’re going to end up tomorrow.

Being Net-Literate Doesn’t Necessarily Make You Better

I made an assumption in the past that you need powerful analytical skills and the ability to make sense of large amounts of information to survive in today’s info-rich world. Yet, I still find people who live in complete silos and have a worldview about as big as a small island. And they get by fine.

I also realized that people will gladly trade their resources for the so-called info-skilled people to do the dirty work, and just focus on managing them. This includes CEOs, managers, politicians, leaders, etc.

My dad, for example, has been running a few businesses for the last few years. I admire his reputation and his keen nose for a deal. He used to fumble so much with technology, but he’s getting better at it. By no means does it dictate the way he runs his life. He has ways of getting around that but I know it’s not about outsmarting technology.

I realize more and more that there are people out there who are successful and don’t need all that techie stuff to get there. They’re made from different kind of stuff, and it’s something I’ve only recently come to appreciate.

So now I’m not sure who’s smarter – the folks who skill themselves in technology to get ahead in life, or the folks who skill themselves in life to get ahead in a technology-driven world.

I know big things are coming ahead we’ve barely dreamed of, and I’ll probably be excited when it comes, but I can’t help but feel that I ended up the short end of a stick.

It’s been officially 8 months since I left home and settled down in greyish London, although the sun has been bright these days.

A typical week for me in London

A typical week involves making sure I get my gradschool work done, which is mostly just writing papers which are due over the next few weeks, thinking what to eat or cook for dinner, anticipating the next meetup with friends (usually coursemates, occasionally Malaysian friends who now live here, and sometimes industry people from the user experience community), or working on web development at my part-time job.

Now that just seems mundane, but I find it a novelty to wake up every morning in my tiny studio (which about the size of my previous bedroom in KL) in Islington (Holloway Road, not posh Upper Street), make myself a meal in my tiny kitchen, surf the web and see what’s happening on twitter, get dressed and head to campus to get some work done in the Main library. I don’t do this every day, of course… to avoid the mundane cycle.

Sometimes I just stay at home and write my papers there. I like to get work done at night so sometimes I work all night and sleep through the day.

Recently, on Fridays and Saturdays, I’ll hop on the 91 bus and take it to Crouch End, to Nathan’s (the guy who hired me), and Rey (the front-end developer), Sonia (the graphic artist), Nathan and I will all sit around his kitchen table and hack away at the system for a good day, with the sun overpowering our laptop screens through the big kitchen skylight.

I’m familiar with numbers like 29, 253, 254, and 91 – all buses which ferry me back and forth from home to the tube stations or school. 12 is common for the price we’d pay per person per meal in £ for dinner at Pizza Express. 592.70 for the amount of take-home pay I get after 2 weeks of coding part-time.

Life in the in-betweens

Life in London involves little pockets of activities during the in-betweens. In-between paper writing, libraries, buses, tubes, code, lunch, weekends and weekdays, and seasons.

I don’t know how we did it with my crazy random schedule, but my wife and I have managed a day out at Hampstead Heath, sips of coffee at Monmouth, several trips to Pizza Express, and occasional shopping along the high streets. It all happens in the in-betweens.

Like when a core group of my coursemates decide to head to the Duck n’ Dive for a pint or two. And cheap pizza at Icco’s, or grabbing a quick cheapy indian takeaway lunch from Poppadoms.

It happens sporadically.

Like back in KL?

It’s quite like it was back in KL. Except that it involved a lot of eating – often in different places. It was always a different place. You never went back to the same place the next day, unless you were desperate.

And instead of walking everywhere and taking the bus and the tube, we always went everywhere by car. It would’ve been almost impossible otherwise. Imagine walking all the way from Midvalley to Brickfields in the hot sun.

And I didn’t drink as much beer and alcohol back in KL. I liked my Kilkenny on tap at La Bodega, but it was expensive so I could only afford one per visit.

Nights out with my good friends in KL were a lot more fun, maybe because we had a lot of good old stories to tell, and there was interesting stuff happening with each of us. It was like a support group, except that you’d get teased and joked about and told off when you were being a gnat.

There was really nothing much happening at work then. The offices were dull. Occasionally there would be interesting projects. But I’d tend to forget than remember them. The only ones I really enjoyed was the ones outside of the office, like the DTAC project that took me to Thailand for three weeks.

The common numbers were 7, which is about the time I leave the office in the evening; 3 for the number of dishes I’d order for my wife and I for taichow on a typical weekday dinner out; 2000 for the average amount of ringgit I’d spend every time I visit Bali; 1.5 for the price of a teh si peng, which is by far my most ordered drink; 83 for the average amount of ringgit I’d spend on a full tank for my Alfa Romeo 146; 2 for the time I usually go to bed in the a.m.

Yes this post was pretty pointless, but at least you get a sense of where things haven’t changed.

I’m starting to realize I’m starting to age, by the plain fact that old habits die hard. This comes as a surprise to me because I assumed I was part of a generation that trumps on flexibility and adaptability.

A series of litmus tests I’ve applied over the years have shown that I am not very well suited for world domination, as I might as hoped. Alas, I am to resign as an aging craftsman, with propensity for intellectual quips and philosophical debates.

The thing is, you too may find yourself in that predicament.

Have you always believed that you would make it big someday, and are now in the process of executing something grand, and realized you’ve expended 50% of your effort (based on some arbitrary measure) and are nowhere near your target? This, with all the books you’ve read.

Sure, there’re a ton more. And you could always try getting another job.

I started asking myself lately if anything major had changed in my life, and I realized that my behavior hasn’t really changed a whole lot over the years. Here are some of my not-so-stellar ones:

• going to bed at ungodly hours
• wasting time reading articles on the net, convinced that it’ll lead me closer to world domination
• wasting time on twitter and facebook
• not sticking to my plans
• making quick connections about things I read from the internet, like for example… how mashups are efficient ways to make big bucks (wrong)
• watching how other people succeed and emulating bits and pieces (also wrong)

Before I sign myself off as a complete idiot, I’m going to draw the line here and state that world domination requires a lot of WORK. And that work has certain elements that cannot be removed, such as goals, patience, communities of practice, apprenticeship, planning and execution.

A few years ago, I was naive enough to believe that with technology and some life-hackery, I could take shortcuts (money, time, know-how) in order to get what I needed or wanted. To an extent, this is true. I can now listen to my favourite music without having to pay for it.

But world domination is not the same as listening to music. They are two very different things.

I realized that world domination requires at least the following:

Know-How

When I experimented with a blog aggregator to see if it would bring me lots of cash without hurting people and with minimal effort, I was in for a lesson. I realized that I needed to put in a lot of effort and give it a lot more thought.

At the same time, it took me a long time to see the point of stuff like SEO, re-designing my layout, hacking my templates… and getting Wordpress to flippin’ work just killed any desire to make the site better. In short, I was lazy.

Some great ideas are complex to pull off, and there is such a thing as an individual preference – so projection is important, as in – asking the right questions, and being effecient about it. I wasted time mulling over so many different things, executing some, but I failed to analyze good case studies and learning from folks who have done it before.

Respect for what and who are already there

This leads to the next part about underestimating experts, leaders, professionals, systems, processes, and a whole lot of other stuff that can seem very “red-tapeish”.

On one hand, some experts seem like superheroes we can’t avoid quoting them every 5 seconds or so. But on the other, it’s hard to swallow the truth that some people I worked under did have some smarts under that skull of theirs… and I could’ve been a bit more patient at learning the ropes, and reflecting on it.

“I can be like that too”, was a common thought that ran through my mind. Thoughts like, I can start a business and run my own internet company… or, like… I can earn double my salary in 1 year by focussing on X, Y and Z.

And yet, some things take its own pace – you just can’t force it. Might as well sit back, smell the roses and enjoy the ride.

Reading between the lines

Graduate school has taught me a lot about reading between the lines. A lot of people who are relatively unknown who I never used to care about, had spent a lot of time writing stuff that they’ve learnt through their work, and I used to think that I didn’t need to bother about what they cared about. So, I tended to skim read a lot, until I realized I was getting nowhere.

Then, I learnt to dig deeper and search through the work that had been done by the authors, by disecting their arguments, their references… by drawing a more holistic picture of the work itself, in order to get a better understanding of what it was I needed to learn.

The real value is in appreciating the lessons that people gain when they do good work. Because ultimately, these are things I may learn, and that’s where good dialogue takes place in places like blogs, twitter posts, and messages.

It’s not just about “knowing stuff that’s been said already”.

Collaboration

In my six months of working part-time with what is now becoming a real startup company, I learnt that big ideas need good teams. There are things that can be done solo… like, I dunno… selling lemonade.

I was hired as a lead web developer to help build a product, and we started from scratch. It’s now six months past, and I basically overestimated my abilities to build websites. In other words, I couldn’t pull off building a full-fledged site in six months on my own. If there were 3 good people on the team, that would look more probable. And I say that not to quote some esoteric theory, or startup expert.

In recent weeks, a small but formidable team has come together to help this site move along faster, and I’m blown away by the exponential effect good people can do to a team.

World domination is not a solo effort. Even if you’re planning to take over the world by writing a book, that book requires the contribution of people other than yourself.

And sometimes, it’s just worth spending a bit more

As a stingy kiasu Malaysian, I also assumed you could get by with very little. A few things I learnt from working with folks here in London is that it makes sense to use money to move things along.

My wife works for a local charity, where they get donors from all over the place. Her CEO recently bought a huge map that cost a lot of money, for the purpose of sticking pins on the areas where donors had come from, so that she could be reminded of where her donors are and subsequently keep in touch with.

In Malaysian-speak, that’s quite blasphemous to the name of all things good. Firstly because it was a charity, funded by the public. And it would’ve been cheaper to use 32 A4-size printouts of Google Maps screenshots. But taking a step back, it did make sense. It was quick, efficient, and it did the job well.

I can’t imagine the amount of time I’ve lost trying to get things done with the absolute minimum. There are other factors in play, like time, comfort, a sense of provision, or partnerships… that make spending a lot less worse than I think it is.

I could’ve quoted a line from Gladwell’s Outliers, which I think makes sense, but I didn’t.

Anyway, just my rant about World Domination. What’s yours?

I’ve talked about this for months now – my intention to move to London to pursue an MSc in Human-Computer Interaction and explore new opportunities. Now that I’m finally here in the UK, I realize the last few weeks is only the beginning of yet another long and potentially emotional journey.

For those of you who are curious about moving and removing every single item in your home, saying goodbye to all your loved ones, and establishing the necessary arrangements for the move without digging your own grave - I assure you this is all possible… my wife and I have done it in only a matter of weeks.

Possible, but painful.

Uprooting is chaotic

Unforseen circumstances make it most challenging for a first timer. It doesn’t help someone like me who wants everything in place. There are never any guarantees, but you must plan for it anyway. There is a lot of planning and execution needed, and thank God my wife was there to lead in that respect.

If you’re a kind of pie-in-the-sky individual, you need someone who’s good with schedules, numbers, and getting things done. Otherwise, you might end up losing a lot in transition – opportunities, money, relationships, sleep, etc.

Our UK visa was rejected the first time, and we didn’t plan for that. Even now, I am waiting for my UK bank account to be opened. I have no idea when it will. Although we got here in one place, there were news reports of a strike threatening to delay flights in Bangkok, where we were transiting.

Plan well. Execute well. Count your blessings.

Uprooting is costly

A lot of things we didn’t manage to sell to friends and through private sales ended up at the Cash Converters, and we lost about 70% to 80% of our initial investment in a blink of an eye, even after depreciation. An ikea dining plate that cost me RM25 returned only RM2 at the counter. I sold about dozen of them. I had to remind myself that it’s just part of the process.

Despite this, we needed to maintain sufficient funds for fees, and living in the UK. The UK Border Agency demands that, or visas will be rejected. These funds can be so large sometimes, that it takes years to build up. It taught me the virtue of saving, budgeting, and living within my means. It also taught me gratitude, especially to my parents.

Moving will no doubt cost you, so plan for that as well.

Uprooting is emotional

I had to let go of a lot of things. Our beautiful oak dining table I got from Ikea went to my in-laws, and I cringed as I saw it covered by tablecloth with no hint of oak left, save for its feet. Apparently, someone in the family tends to spill a lot, so the table cloth prevents the table from soiling. I just resisted making comment.

I also had to say goodbye to the boardgame nights with my buddies. It won’t ever be the same without them, and I will miss them dearly. I was already letting go of a lot of this in the last few months to ease the transition, but when there’s a void, it needs to be filled.

I bought a London resident’s guide to help me and my wife re-acquaint ourselves with our new home. I got in touch with friends and family living in the UK. I watched TopGear episodes, and downloaded even more. I tried to stop spelling in American English (it’s hard). I told my wife about ‘crisps’, ‘chips’ and ‘fries’. We bought London moleskin journals.

It helped some, but I was careful not to pretend everything was going to be okay just because I could speak and write English well. Even with my uncle who’s lived here for 37 years, I can pick out how little things I say can miscommunicate a lot of things.

Uprooting is necessary

Even despite the challenges we’ve been through, and despite the uncertainty ahead of us, we were happy we stuck to our decision. The paradox of uncertainty vs. just trying for the sake of it is as ironic as the risk that’s involved, but that’s essentially human in a way that it demands to be celebrated.

Each individual is responsible for their own destiny. Focus, clarity, maturity, experience, closure, success – these are some of the things I’ve been aiming for. I believe they’re part of what all of us want, as well.

But in order for me to achieve these things, I felt I had to uproot myself – simply because I was holding on to too many things. I let go of things like job security, some close relationships, resonable comfort, personal belongings, my home country in exchange for growth, opportunity, autonomy, value, and a more focussed career.

It may not be the same for others, but my point is that sacrifices are real in life.

Real, and necessary.

Resources:

• Money & Homes: The pain of uprooting
• Will This Place Ever Feel Like Home?
• How to Adjust to Moving to a New Place
• London

I sold my car to a chicken rice seller recently. I asked him what his job looks like. He told me that he sells chicken rice from the morning to about 4pm, 7 days a week. Then at 4pm, he shuts down his stall, and goes home and prepares chicken rice for the next day. By the time he is done, he is too tired to do anything else and goes to sleep.

He and his wife mans the stall and does the work. They hire an indonesian helper to wash the dishes. Their stall costs RM1k per month to rent from the restaurant (it’s a restaurant with a few stalls, the restaurant owner leases stall space to each stall hawker).

Life is simple for them. Simple but hard.

Hardly anyone I know these days wants to start a food stall. Maybe because the perception of it is so alienating. Instead, we settle to become accountants, marketing executives, software programmers, lawyers, doctors, auditors.

At 44, the chicken rice seller now owns two cars, some properties, and who knows what else. He has the Kelisa I sold to him and the new Honda Civic that looks like a doorstop. He probably bought the Civic with cash too. I found out he’s also financing some homes, perhaps for investment. Outside of the food stall business, he probably lives his life just like everyone else.

I asked him why he’s been selling chicken rice for the past 14 years. He says it’s just how he got into the food business and doesn’t see himself doing anything else.

So I think it really doesn’t matter what you do as long as you enjoy it and can earn a decent living. It’s a lesson I learnt from the chicken rice seller, so that I don’t overcomplicate life and careers for myself.

Life can be hard when you’re invisible. Attractive, remarkable, or rich people tend to get things their way a lot easier. Perhaps it’s not big competition, since we’re still able to get jobs and live lives. But standing out in a crowd makes it a lot easier to get things done. Here are some tips.

Produce results and stay sharp

I once contended for a promotion with a colleague, and didn’t get the job. It was quite clear – I wasn’t the one people were rooting for. I could’ve spent a hundred years speculating why I lost out, and how I should do better, but I figured that this that was totally uneconomical and prone to failure. It’s one thing to be as great as someone, but it’s another thing to be someone you’re not.

I decided to focus on what I do best at work. I got all the credit for that effort because it was obvious to everyone. I didn’t do it with the expectation of gaining another promotion, although I almost got one… but that it just made sense.

Now, I get to choose what story to tell about my successes. It stays on my resume, and the lessons I’ve learnt from it are mine. I stick with those stories, and I handle all the objections from people who give me crap about otherwise.

Sticking with what you believe and the results from your work gives people less reasons not to believe you. If there’s one thing that’s scarce in the world, it’s trust. Build on it, and you’ll get far.

Be remarkable

Being remarkable is an art. Youtube is proof of that. If you haven’t discovered what makes you remarkable, maybe you need to ask your most honest friends.

A few months ago, I decided a push for a new way of implementing projects, and came under heavy fire for that. By some measure of fortune, I was allowed to do it, and I thank God the project actually went somewhere. It was a big gamble, but I’ve always taken gambles like that in life.

When I announced my departure, a few of my colleagues thanked me for being a “stubborn donkey” and praised me for actually doing more than mere talk. They encouraged me to stick to my ways. I know it’s not the best way to get things done, but it’s a way I’ve learnt by myself. I’m not quite sure how to explain it.

If you ask some of your closest friends about what makes you remarkable, you may be surprised. Sometimes, being remarkable isn’t about doing crazy things, but becoming more of the person you really are.

Give

Giving breaks a lot of social norms, and cuts to the chase. It instantly makes you vulnerable to the things you really care about, and people take notice. Even better when you don’t expect anything in return.

In a way, giving is a way to shut the voices in your head. A lot of people think they’re good people, but they also want to be successful. When is the right time and wrong time to give and get? Logic can be deconstructive as our minds play tricks on us. Giving helps you break that cycle, and keeps things in perspective.

In the past, I’ve given regularly to charities, tithes, personal gifts to specific people, the needy, children… I’ve done this because I needed to understand I could do this on my own, without anyone’s help. I needed to remind myself that climbing to the top of the food chain isn’t worth it without the essential things in life.

Giving helps me understand what’s important to other people, and not just myself. If they have different labels for what’s important in life, then there’s no real “top”. It’s just a personal description.