Panic is a hobby. Hobby in the sense that it doesn’t produce a useful outcome. That is something we can choose to do or not do, based on how we tell ourselves a story. 

As I looked back, I identified some tools that have helped me along the way.

Worst-case planning – let me look into the worst future and imagine it. Once I’ve accepted (death), there are very little things that I need to be panicking about. 

Tim Ferriss’s fear setting exercise allows me to shine a light at the boogie-man. And the boogie-man is only scary because it exists in our heads. Turn on the lights, and it’s gone. 

I do the 5-minute journal every day. It is 4 simple questions that help me plan my day, be happier and get it done. 

I ditch the gym commute and practice The Happy Body every day, 20mins a day. It’s like yoga with weights at the comfort of my room. 

60% Revenue – is a planning exercise to see what you’ll do when your salary or revenue is cut by 60%. It might feel ominous to do it. But it prevents stupid decision when the hair is on fire. And in my experience, having a plan B in place is the best way to be prepared. 

Canned Sardines is a great source of protein and can last for a long time. If you can be happy with that, you’ll be a happy camper. 

Similarly, toilet paper is a luxury. The human has survived as a species without toilet paper for a long time, and I’m sure I can do without. This could be a real skill to live without, back to the basic. 

Organise a zoom lunch. If you’re the organiser, you’ll always have a seat at the table. Bring people together, to have lunch, to work, to play a game together. 

Learn how to get an online side-gig. It could be writing, research, coding, designing or video editing. Pick something you are interested in, start a profile and learn a skill that can make some side income online. 

This pandemic is not new to the human race. We’ve been through the Berlin Blockade, Cuban mission crisis, the Vietnam war, HIV, 9-11 and the 2008 real estate crash. There is no avoiding it. It’s coming. We’ve done this before and we’re going to do it again. Together. 

Just yesterday, a Singapore lady was transferred to my hostel dorm. Upon learning that one of her roommates is from China, without saying 2 words, she jumped up and complained that the hostel is irresponsible. Is she racist or is she fearful for her safety?

It turns out that most small companies run by female founders have primarily female employees. Similarly, most companies are dominated by people of the same race. Could it be that the hiring manager only knows to evaluate their own ‘kind of talent’?

If you don’t know by now, we are all born racists. Not because we want to be divisive, in fact just the opposite. It is because it is the easy thing to do.

Sure, we have laws and quotas to help. And those are great for the short-term.

But in the long term, those are not magic pills because the real culprit is fear.

Curing racism begins with accepting that we are fearful. We resort to easy thinking when we are in un-safe territories.

The good news is, we can change it through the work of continual understanding and learning. Drip by drip, one generation to the other, one person at a time.

The question is when?

As the barriers of book publishing go down, the number of new books get published increase exponentially. For the first time in history, it’s impossible to finish all the books that out there. No, that is not inclusive of online courses, blog articles and e-books.

We are drowning in a sea of useful information, trapped in a never-ending cycle of new information.

A useful question: what are you doing to do with this knowledge?

It’s certainly possible. You might just like to learn for the sake of learning. And that’s okay.

There are big problems out there. Behind a pile of books (or browser tabs), that’s a good place to hide.

When we call someone racist, sexist, or a capitalist, what are we hoping for?

Here’s the thing: the best way to push someone away is by branding them with a pejorative label, obstruct a useful conversation, turning them into that other.

Much more useful: Hold them to a higher standard, identify the behaviour that’s counter-productive and talk about it.

And of course, there’s an art. The rule is to stop attacking the person and avoid the lizard brain, the Amygdala from acting up.

Instead of saying to someone, “Hey, that’s not cool man” causing all sorts of defence mechanism to fire up.

What if we say, “Hey, I know you’re not a racist.”

By assuming positive intent, it opens up a conversation with curiosity. And if there’s a change that needs to be made, we’ve crafted an opportunity.

The seven magic words. “Hey, I know you’re not a ______.”

I used to be smart. When problems surfaced, I jumped to offer solutions.

Do it this way. It’s faster, cheaper and stronger. The best way, my way.

Now, I am wise. I sit curiously, I ask and I listened.

Just as it’s about the answer, it’s about the journey to the answer.

Because what’s the point if the world’s greatest diet and no one wants to follow it.

No, I can’t meet with you, no I don’t want to donate here, no I can’t give you anymore discount. I’m sorry, but no, I can’t.

You try and try again, through manipulation, trickery and a good tantrum. In the short term, you might get an yes. But the first instance I can, I will run away.

No is hard to accept. It requires emotional labour, understanding and empathy, but in the long run, the door will be open for you.

Because “I see you” is what we all really crave for.

Doctors may be able to save my lives, but I’m not sure if I can trust his words anymore.

Just last week, I got a call from my doctor asking to postpone the appointment in light of the CoronaVirus. He mentioned that it’s best to stay away from the hospital, offered to ship my prescription and informed me about my MRI results. I had a slipped disc.

“Hold up. Could I get those scans and ask for a second opinion?”

“Sure.”

I received a report in the email, but not the scans. I spoke the doctor again asking for the actual scans. He mentioned that it can’t be sent over because of the Personal Data Protection Act (PDPA). I suggested then to keep the appointment and I can come to take a photo of his computer screen.

Again. “No, you can’t. PDPA”. [At this point, I was about to reach through the phone and punch him].

“It’s my data. Why can’t I get them?”

As much as I did not want to come to the hospital, I’m in pain and I want to fix my back. I tried repeatedly to understand why can’t I get the scans, my scans. Again, PDPA.

End of my patience, “could you quote the exact section in PDPA where I can’t get a photo of my scans?”

He acknowledged and said that he would come back to me.

The phone rang. This time, he found a solution. He’s going to print the scans out. Boom, problem solved.

Except, what really happened to PDPA?

Of course, this article isn’t really about PDPA. It’s about taking the courage to say “I was wrong, I’m sorry”. Because in the short term, we might be able to get away with the uneasiness of owning up, while costing us the trust and reputation that have been built over decades.

Because in the long term, we all win. We keep our reputation and, in the meantime, learn something to use for the rest of our lives. To be the kind of person that adopts the posture of learning instead of covering up.