Reflecting on a Decade of Lessons: The Intersection of Business, Spirituality, and Personal Growth

Journal Entry: A Journey of Ten Years

It’s been over ten years since I signed my lease in Downtown Sylvania, embarking on a journey that would shape not just my career, but my entire approach to life. I remember my father’s words from my youth in Malaysia, “The meaning of being a man is to learn how to deal with your pain alone and never show your vulnerability.” These words echoed in my mind as I carried heavy glass panes for window installations, teaching me resilience and the importance of a strong facade.

Yet, as the years have passed, I’ve come to realize that the very walls we build to shield our vulnerability can sometimes trap us in a cycle of isolation and superficial success. In the corporate world, we often wear a "corporate skin," a mask of confidence and invincibility that keeps us from standing out too much, from helping others too freely, lest we lose our competitive edge. But as I’ve grown, both personally and spiritually, I’ve started questioning whether this approach is truly fulfilling—or even sustainable.

The Illusion of Incompletion

For a long time, I believed that my life would feel complete once I achieved certain milestones: starting my own business, landing that lucrative contract, buying the car I’ve always wanted. I thought these achievements would fill the void I sometimes felt, the sense that something was missing.

Recently, I encountered a situation that challenged this belief in a profound way. A friend, whom I’ll call Loral, was in a desperate situation—she had lost her family, her job, and was trying to start over. She struck me as someone with the right spirit and passion to rebuild her life, so I decided to help her by recommending her for some independent contracting jobs with my clients.

But things didn’t go as planned. Loral stopped communicating, missed deadlines, and left me in an awkward position with my clients. I was disappointed, to say the least. I regretted extending myself and wondered why my attempt to do good had backfired so badly.

This experience left me questioning my motivations. Why did I feel so let down? Was it because I expected something in return—perhaps gratitude, a sense of accomplishment, or simply the satisfaction of seeing Loral succeed? The disappointment I felt was not just about the professional fallout; it was rooted in my deeper struggle to align my actions with my spiritual beliefs.

A Lesson from the Bhagavad Gita

As I reflected on this experience, I found solace and guidance in the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita, a sacred Hindu scripture that has been a source of wisdom for centuries. The Gita discusses many profound concepts, but what resonated most with me in this context were the teachings on sacrifice, renunciation, and the importance of acting without attachment to outcomes—what is known as "satva" or "satvic" behavior.

In particular, chapters 16 and 17 delve into the idea of offering all actions to Krishna, a representation of the divine. The essence of these teachings is that we should perform our duties selflessly, focusing solely on the act itself rather than on the rewards it might bring. This concept challenges the very core of how we often operate in both our personal and professional lives.

For example, in business, it’s common to undertake tasks or help others with the expectation of some form of return—be it recognition, a promotion, or a future favor. But the Bhagavad Gita teaches that true spiritual discipline lies in giving without attachment, in acting without ego, and in serving without any expectation of reward.

This is where I struggled with my situation with Loral. I had offered her my help, believing it was the right thing to do, but deep down, I also hoped for a positive outcome. Perhaps I wanted to see her succeed as a validation of my own judgment, or maybe I expected her to uphold the trust I had placed in her. When things didn’t turn out as I had hoped, I was left with a sense of disappointment that highlighted my own attachment to the results of my actions.

The Gita encourages us to shift our mindset. Instead of focusing on external recognition or the outcome, we should find fulfillment in the act of doing our work well, knowing that we are contributing to something greater than ourselves. It’s about performing our duties—whether it’s helping a friend, completing a project, or simply living our daily lives—with a sense of detachment from the results.

The Simplicity of Doing Good

This brings to mind a story from Buddhist teachings that has stayed with me. There was once a king in China who was deeply interested in Buddhism. When a renowned monk from India visited his palace, the king eagerly asked, “Tell me, Sage, what is the essence of Buddhism?”

The monk responded, “Seize to do evil, learn to do good, and purify the heart.”

The king, expecting a more complex answer, was disappointed. He protested, “But that is so simple, even a child of three could understand it!”

“Yes,” the monk replied, “but it is so simple that a child of three can understand it, yet so difficult that a man of eighty cannot put it into practice.”

This story perfectly encapsulates the challenge I faced with Loral. Doing good is simple in theory, but when it comes to putting it into practice—especially when the outcome is uncertain or even unfavorable—it becomes one of the hardest things to achieve.

I realized that while I understood the importance of selfless action, I had not fully internalized it. My disappointment with Loral was a reminder that I still had work to do in bridging the gap between my spiritual understanding and my actions in the physical world. It was a humbling experience, one that made me confront the limits of my own practice.

Learning Hard Work from the Ground Up

Reflecting on these experiences takes me back to my childhood in Malaysia. I was only 11 years old, working alongside my father on construction sites. We didn’t have any gloves, and my workday was a grueling eight hours. My payment? A pack of rice, curry, and some vegetables.

“If you want to know what hard work is, eat like these men,” my father would say as he handed me the food. While these words might sound unconventional here in the USA, this was the norm where I come from. In Malaysia, you had to learn where your food came from—not from the supermarket, as many might joke, but directly from the source.

This meant going to my father’s construction site, shadowing the masters of trade throughout the entire project. My job was to ensure they had everything they needed—whether it was holding the ladder, carrying tools from the truck, or making sure the right tools were always at hand. It wasn’t just about learning a trade; it was about understanding the value of hard work, the kind that puts food on the table.

When I wasn’t on the construction site, I was at the wet market with my mother, picking out fish with its head still intact or selecting a live chicken that would return 45 minutes later in a bag, its insides packed separately. Life was tough, and my parents raised me to never forget it. This way, I would understand the difficulty of the common people and appreciate the value of every dollar earned.

Bridging the Spiritual and the Physical

In my journey through life and business, I’ve often struggled to bridge the gap between my spiritual beliefs and my actions in the physical world. Helping Loral was a test of this integration. When my expectations weren’t met, I felt frustration and regret. But reflecting on the Bhagavad Gita and Buddhist teachings, I’ve come to understand that true growth lies in doing what is right, regardless of the outcome.

This experience with Loral has taught me that I need to continue working on aligning my actions with my spiritual beliefs. It’s not enough to understand these principles intellectually; they need to be embodied in my daily life, in every decision I make, and in every interaction I have. It’s about letting go of the need for external validation and focusing on the purity of one’s intentions.

Conclusion: A Reminder to Myself and Others

As I move forward, I remind myself that life is not about the accumulation of successes or the avoidance of failures, but about the consistent effort to do good, seize to do evil, and purify the heart. It’s about letting go of the need for external validation and focusing on the purity of one’s intentions.

So, as I continue on this journey, I carry with me the lessons of the Bhagavad Gita and the wisdom of that ancient monk. I encourage you, my readers, to reflect on these teachings as well. In a world that often values results over integrity, let’s strive to do what is right, even when it’s difficult—especially when it’s difficult.

After all, it doesn’t matter what you know if you don’t put it into practice.

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