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I’ve always prided myself on being a team player, embracing the idea of teamwork as an essential ingredient for success. But lately, I’ve started to notice the cracks in this seemingly perfect ideology. Teamwork, I’ve come to realise, can sometimes be a convenient disguise for sheep mentality, groupthink, and the pursuit of inclusion without merit. A recent experience brought this into sharp focus. My pastry chef—someone I deeply respect for their expertise and precision—was faced with a dilemma. The sales and marketing team had strong opinions about the design of a showpiece cake we were preparing. Their suggestions were well-meaning but lacked the technical knowledge that comes with professional training. Still, they were united in their stance, confident their ideas would achieve the desired effect.  Initially, my instinct was to back the chef entirely. They knew better. But then I considered the bigger picture: the delicate ecosystem of harmony within the group. So, I persuaded...

Consider this: one who leads a hundred men will find himself, by extension, sharing in the lives of a hundred souls. To lead is not merely to direct or oversee; it is to assume responsibility for the joys, sufferings, and burdens of each under one’s care. And thus, to lead well, one must cultivate a spirit vast enough to accommodate the great multitude of human conditions that life inevitably presents. A leader may command the minds of many, but he is also bound to their hearts. Someone’s father may indeed be nearing his final breaths, someone’s daughter may be weeping in distress, and another may be singing in joy at their wedding. Each event is a current in the great river of life, pulling us into empathy and understanding. The leader must stand firm in this river, feeling each movement and ripple yet remaining rooted. In this way, a leader’s heart must become as a vast reservoir: deep enough to receive both sorrow and joy without judgment and wide enough to hold these many lives tog...

Reflect, then, that the sting of exclusion often wounds only my pride, which bids me crave recognition. Ostracism, a silent hand that I grasp myself, is but the echo of a misguided attachment to what does not align with my inner resolve. For what virtue lies in yearning for bonds with those who neither honor my values nor wish to see me thrive? Such friendships weigh like stones on my spirit, false anchors to ideals we never truly shared. Instead, I seek a circle that uplifts, in both kindness and principle, those who walk the path with genuine care for my growth and stability. To know a friend is to know they, too, cherish the same virtue, the same integrity, and find joy in my prosperity as if it were their own. Those who do not nourish this bond are but passersby, and releasing them is not loss, but wisdom. Yet, I will not let this departure obscure the joy of what once was. What we shared—those good moments—belong always to memory and cannot be taken away. They are as embers that o...

At a young age—around 15 years old—I encountered a conundrum. I was a helpful kid, always taking pride in assisting strangers in malls, on the streets, wherever I could. One day, someone asked me, “What if you’re taken advantage of? What if they lead you into an alley and rob you?” After thinking for a while, I answered, “Then I’ll be strong enough to be taken advantage of, to be robbed, and still help the next stranger I meet.” This thought process has guided me ever since. I don’t want to become the kind of person who stops helping others because I got scammed once. I aim to be strong enough to face loss without being diminished by it. I strive to accumulate enough wealth to endure theft once or twice and to need so little that loss becomes irrelevant. This is how I have chosen to live. I am not fazed by threats to my way of life simply because I decide to be helpful. I have seen enough to trust that people will intervene when they witness injustice, sincerity, or need. I intend to b...