TLDR: Active, vibrant and full of dreams for her future, “Steffi” was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer at 28. She has chosen not to let that define her life.
Thirty-two-year-old Chuah Siew Lin – “Steffi” to her friends – dreamt of one day being a teacher and a mother.
Like most 30-somethings, she leads an active life – she loves triathlons, teaches swimming in her spare time, and loves playing with her dog.
But four years ago, at just 28, her dreams came crashing down around her – she was abruptly diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer, which has a five-year survival rate of 25 percent.
“When the doctor told me, I was, like, “Nah. You’re kidding!?” she recalls.
“So, I took my report to (another) doctor at another hospital. And the news really hit me hard this time.
“Not just me, but my family as well.
“But I grew to accept it and now I am slightly at peace. But I’m not quite there yet.”
Stage 4 breast cancer is when the cancer has spread beyond the breast tissue and local lymph nodes into other areas of the body.
In Steffi’s case, it has spread to her spine, her pelvis, collarbone and her ribs.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ I thought. How wrong I was
It all began with something as seemingly as innocuous as a leaking nipple – not at all unusual for a woman who spends so much time in the heavily chlorinated water of a swimming pool.
“Because I was training for a swimming event, I thought it was just a normal infection,” she says.
“But it didn’t get better after the event. So I saw a doctor and had day surgery to seal off the nipple so that it wouldn’t keep bleeding.”
The doctor took a biopsy during the simple procedure – and it revealed a Stage 0 abnormality.
Stage 0, also known a Ductal Carcinoma in Situ, is where abnormal cells are found inside the breast milk duct. It is considered precancerous. And it is a strong indicator of a higher risk of worse things to come.
“So at that point, I was, like, ‘oh, okay. I’m not sure what’s this,” and I didn’t really give it much thought,’ says Steffi.
During a follow-up, her doctor recommended a mammogram – basically a very uncomfortable procedure where your breast is squeezed between two cold steel plates for an x-ray.
That found a lot of calcifications, which look like little white dots. While that can be normal, the danger sign was her inverted nipple.
The doctors advised a mastectomy to remove her left breast, which she did.
Some women, like actress Angelina Jolie, who know they have a higher risk of breast cancer choose a voluntary mastectomy.
Jolie, then 37, chose to have both breasts removed in 2013 before any sign of cancer, because of her genetic history.
“My mother fought cancer for almost a decade and died at 56,” she wrote in a heartfelt piece in the New York Times at the time explaining her controversial decision and urging other women to be aware.
“She held out long enough to meet the first of her grandchildren and to hold them in her arms. But my other children will never have the chance to know her and experience how loving and gracious she was.
“We often speak of ‘Mommy’s Mommy,’ and I find myself trying to explain the illness that took her away from us. They have asked if the same could happen to me. I have always told them not to worry, but the truth is I carry a ‘faulty’ gene, BRCA1, which sharply increases my risk of developing breast cancer and ovarian cancer.
“My doctors estimated that I had an 87 percent risk of breast cancer and a 50 percent risk of ovarian cancer, although the risk is different in the case of each woman.
“Only a fraction of breast cancers result from an inherited gene mutation. Those with a defect in BRCA1 have a 65 percent risk of getting it, on average,” she wrote.
“Once I knew that this was my reality, I decided to be proactive and to minimize the risk as much I could. I made a decision to have a preventive double mastectomy.
“I started with the breasts, as my risk of breast cancer is higher than my risk of ovarian cancer, and the surgery is more complex.
“But I am writing about it now because I hope that other women can benefit from my experience.
“Cancer is still a word that strikes fear into people’s hearts, producing a deep sense of powerlessness.
“But today it is possible to find out through a blood test whether you are highly susceptible to breast and ovarian cancer, and then take action.”
Her decision made headlines around the world led to what is now known in medical circles as “The Anglina Jolie Effect,” that encouraged countless women to take action.
A new lump. And devastating news
After her mastectomy, Steffi noticed a lump had grown back. More tests showed the cancer had spread.
“Stage 0 had very quickly become Stage 4. I was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer – basically, the cancer had spread to my spine, my pelvis, and my collarbone, and a bit on my ribs,” she says.
“(But) I caught this at an early stage by sheer luck.
“My objective right now is to beat the statistics and to be able to live longer than that.
While it’s rare, there have been cases of women surviving with Stage 4 longer than a decade.
“That (rate) is very low,” she says. “But there has not been much research on younger people with Stage 4, especially metastatic breast cancer. So it’s really hard to tell.”
Breast cancer in women Steffi’s age is extremely rare – only four percent of women diagnosed with breast cancer in the US are under 40.
But it is more aggressive in young women and the survival rate is much lower than for women over 40.
Statistics are also a bit of a moveable feast. Each case is different. Each country as different healthcare systems and screening programs. And rates can vary dramatically by age, ethnicity, and lifestyle.
And the age breakdowns are changing, too. For decades, they were divided by under- and over-55. That is changing with growing rates among women under 55.
Robust campaigns in countries such as Singapore to encourage women to get checked younger and more often also mean more cases get caught ear earlier and reported more accurately.
Singapore has one of the highest breast cancer rates in Asia, generally consistent across Chinese, Malay, and Indian women, at 54.9 per 100,000.
The National Institute of Health attributes this to Singapore’s more Western lifestyle and higher screening rates.
Life Happens
Steffi knows all about the statistics. But life is for the living.
“’I’m just taking one step at a time,” she says.
“I really love kids, but I guess (having) kids is out of the question right now because you can’t have kids when you’re going through this treatment.
“And I don’t really have big dreams of, like, having a house of my own or having a big car.
“But I guess being the first among my friends and family, hopefully, them sharing my story will promote awareness.
“I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. It was hard to tell my friends and they often said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have this. I’m sorry that you’re going through this’.”
A tip Steffi, and a lot of other cancer survivors pass on: If someone you know and love tells you they have cancer, just listen. Let them know you’re there for them.
Say things like “I’m always glad to bring you to the hospital.” And, better still, stay there with them during their treatment.
Just be honest, quiet, and be there. The worst thing you can say is “Get well soon.” Or ignore it.
Small things make a difference
Steffi’s attitude to life has changed.
“What I can do right now is to really make peace by taking just one step at a time, one day at a time,” she says.
“And that can be as small as just waking up and going to work. Doing the simplest things.
“I started by forcing myself to sign up for a swimming group. They have very disciplined training every single day. Having to do that just gives me a little bit more peace.
“And I give less priority to work. Work can’t be your whole life. I mean, even if you resign, there’s always someone else who can replace you. That’s the reality of a rat-race world.”
While she loves her job and is committed to doing the best she can, Steffi’s priorities have changed.
“When it comes to my health, I will just prioritise that, which is as simple as just visiting the hospital and taking a day off if I really need to,” she says.
It’s OK to be ‘selfish’
She has also learned to be kind to herself, if in a rather odd way, which is actually more about acceptance and – in its own way – courage.
I sometimes feel that I deserve all the privileges I can get because I’m gonna die soon, so I’m going to do whatever I want,” she explains.
“So in a way that I feel like basically, I deserve all the attention that I can get, It’s like … I’m a privileged bitch. And entitled. Yes, the word is entitled.”
She gives the example of fighting for a seat on a crowded LRT.
“Inside my heart, I’m thinking ‘You don’t deserve to sit. You’re not even having cancer. You stand, lah. I deserve to sit ‘cause I’m gonna die soon.”
“It’s not really healthy to have this kind of mindset. I am aware of that. But I just can’t help myself.
“I’m still alive, but I can’t move like everyone else. If you asked me to squat on the floor like anyone else, I can’t do it. Yet even the old aunties can do it.”
A Beautiful Life
Despite what life has dealt her, Stefi is grateful.
“I always believe that I should live my days like I’m going to die. So I have lived by that philosophy so strongly even until now and even before I was diagnosed with cancer.
“So it doesn’t change much for me because I have lived through my years beautifully and meaningfully for myself and it’s a bit sad that other people can’t say the same thing.
“When I hear friends, people close to me who have regrets at not fulfilling what they wanted to do, I see it as a bit of time wasted on their end.
“From my end, I have always taken my time really seriously, even when I was very young. Time is really precious, so, whatever seconds and minutes I have, I really make the most of it.
“It is like a living memory.”
While some dreams of her dreams were lost, Steffi has plenty of new ones. And they are just as big.
“What do I want to do before I die?Definitely, I want to compete in an Iron Man marathon, hopefully before I’m 35. And at the top of my list is definitely climbing Mount Fuji.
“I don’t want to leave anything behind. But if I do, it would be stories about people in my life.”
She also wants to write a book about the people who have enriched her life and made it what it is.
“I want to call it ‘A Hundred People Who Made Me for Me.’
“I want to commemorate conversations which were very meaningful to me. It’s really, really a lot of work. Probably, I’ll start it one day. But that day is not so soon yet.”
Again like other survivors, she says:
“It takes up a lot of your time and affects you a lot and your relationship with other people as well. But it’s not your core identity.
“What you’re going through makes you just a little bit different from other people. But it’s not the whole story of your life. It’s just one chapter.”
Steffi’s story shows life can change in a moment, and we may not even know that at the time.
But when Life happens to you, you have the power to choose how to deal with it. Your choice is the most important weapon you have.
Danger Signs to Watch Out For
A lump in the breast or armpits
Changes in the shape or size of the nipple, of one or both breasts
Nipple discharge (In some cases, this may contain blood)
Visible veins on the breasts
Dimpling of the skin of the breasts
Rashes on or around the nipple
Pain in the vagina
Unexplained weight loss
While rare, breast cancer also occurs in men
Breast Cancer Resources in Singapore and Malaysia
HealthHub Singapore. A digital platform developed by the Ministry of Health and the Health Promotion Board.
TLDR: From career to cancer, Kyle reflects on the treasures he gained from sharing his life stories through writing
How I Started Writing
I never considered myself a writer, let alone a writer who writes about Buddhist Dharma. I suppose most of us have unique talents when it comes to analysing and understanding the Dharma.
Growing up, I struggled with academics, but excelled in asking the question “why.” I possessed a strong sense of skepticism and curiosity that drove me.
When I wrote my first book, 108 Places to See Before Nirvana, I was trying to find a way to sustain my life while staying close to Buddhism.
Shortly after publishing, I was diagnosed with cancer. Suddenly, my goal of sustaining my livelihood became a fight for survival.
I spent a year living in a bubble, avoiding crowded places to protect my compromised immune system.
Reflecting on My Cancer Journey
During my cancer treatment, I spent a lot of time in my room writing about how I applied Dharma knowledge to overcome my illness.
The blog began with a dialogue with the cancer tumour, starting with the opening line in every blog entry, “Dear Tumor” allowed me to view my condition from a different perspective. I chronicled my entire journey, all the way up to my last day of chemo and radiotherapy.
Looking back, I’m not entirely sure why I began my blog.
At first, I intended to keep my loved ones informed about my condition so they wouldn’t fret (especially since I was too drained to speak to anyone in my vulnerable state). But writing turned out to be therapeutic.
I reflected on my experiences and how they were intertwined with Dharma. Writing helped me to release my emotions and validate my experiences.
Now, 10 years into remission, I view the blog as a personal keepsake and inheritance that I gained from my cancer treatments.
An example of one of my blog posts
How Sharing My Story Inspired Others
Though I was unsure if my writing would resonate with readers, I felt compelled to share.
After publishing my blog, I received messages from many who applauded my state of mind and found inspiration in my experiences.
Even those who didn’t have cancer could relate to my Dhamma reflections, showcasing the beauty of it., The Dhamma can offer guidance and support in any situation.
It would be wonderful if young students could learn from the Dharma’s wisdom, not necessarily as a religious doctrine, but as a syllabus for navigating life’s challenges.
Curveballs
Life has a way of throwing curveballs (which we all are aware of from the First Noble Truth), but I’ve learned to make the best of them.
I even created a new recipe for lemon tea out of the lemons life gave me. This analogy came to me while writing my second book, Life I’ve Learned as Monk Key, which describes my journey to cancer recovery after that difficult year.
Monk Key 😏 Get it?
Tragedy didn’t stop there. Shortly within a year after my treatments, I lost several loved ones, including a close friend and my father. This was followed by my chum’s father who suffered from the same cancer as me.
I rented a small hut in Koh Phangan to heal, and somehow I found myself opening up my laptop and starting to write again.
The small hut
Although my book, Monk Key, primarily details my battle with cancer, I also dedicated a chapter to my father and the other loved ones whom I lost in that challenging year.
Writing has now become my sanctuary, and at first, I wrote Monk Key to express my gratitude to those who supported me during my illness.
Little did I know, it also helped me with confronting my grief.
Sharing stories: Not for personal gain
As a Buddhist writer, I believe fame and fortune are not the end goals of publishing.
While it would be nice to gain more readership, my ultimate aim is to share my intimate life story in a way that allows readers to see things from a different perspective.
It’s not a flawless process, but I hope that it will lead to meaningful reflection.
I believe that writing can be a powerful tool for personal growth.
Through the act of putting our thoughts and experiences into words, we gain life’s clarity and insight.
And when we share our writing with others, we have the potential to inspire and connect with people profoundly.
With that said, I think there are a few key benefits to prioritising the sharing of our stories over personal gain:
Authenticity: When our primary goal is to share our story and connect with others, we’re more likely to write authentically. We’re not as concerned with crafting a certain image or projecting a certain persona – we’re simply sharing our truth.
Connection: Writing can be a powerful tool for building connections. When we share our stories, we invite others to see us for who we truly are. And when we’re vulnerable in our writing, we create opportunities for others to connect with us on a deeper level.
Perspective: Finally, I think that sharing our stories can help us gain perspective on our lives. When we see our experiences reflected back to us through the eyes of others, we can gain new insights and understanding about ourselves and our place in the world.
Overall, I believe that prioritising the sharing of our stories is a noble and worthwhile pursuit. While fame and fortune may be tempting, the true value of writing lies in its ability to inspire, connect, and transform both the writer and the reader.
My Wishes for Budding Dhamma Writers
To all aspiring writers, especially those who write in the context of Buddhist Dhamma, I hope for you to find pleasure in any accolades and wealth the world may bestow upon you.
May you receive heaps of positive reviews, easily brush aside poor ones, and have Kalyanamitras to weather any storms. You can write for Handful of Leaves and submit your story here.
But most of all, I wish you the honest, quiet, and enduring satisfaction of completing a written work from start to finish.
The pure, child-like joy of admiring something you have created – a unique manifestation and expression of your experiences – and, lastly, the generous joy of giving your stories away.
Wise Steps:
Start Writing: Try writing or another form of creating as a way to digest your experiences and share your story
Find Clarity on Intention: The precious value that comes from prioritizing the sharing of our stories over personal gain
Allow Yourself to be Surprised: Keep an open mind about what your writing could bring to you and the people reading it
May you rejoice in the merits of this Dhamma contribution and be well and happy wherever you go.
TLDR: Joey shares her emotional journey following the sudden loss of a lifelong friend to cancer, leading her to embrace the power of gratitude and find deeper meaning in life.
The Shocking Diagnosis
“Bad news, it’s a mass. Need to do biopsy now to check.”
It was a Whatsapp message from you. My mind went blank. I resisted the urge to Google “mass in lungs diagnosis.” I did not want my imagination to run wild.
After enduring a prolonged cough and episodes of breathlessness that persisted despite visits to several GPs, you went for a specialist check-up at a hospital and were admitted immediately.
A friendship that withstood time
I have known you since Secondary 1. Although we were not in the same class, we were batchmates in Girl Guides and our friendship blossomed. Over the next 25 years, we journeyed together through important milestones of our teenage years. Coming from dysfunctional families, we became each other’s confidantes and support when stressful incidents at home were too overwhelming.
I could not recall the exact number of through-the-night phone calls, late-night hangouts, or sleepovers we had. We sang, chatted, and watched TV, and only went home when the storms had fully subsided.
“I’m really very scared. My girl is still so young.”
This was your subsequent message before I could draft a comforting reply to your previous one.
Journeying through life’s milestones together
As we stepped into adulthood and got swept up in our careers, we did not meet as often. But we witnessed each other through major life events, celebrating our joyful moments and exchanging encouragements during challenging times — landing dream jobs, bad bosses, heartbreaks, death in the family, getting married, securing our BTO, and becoming mothers.
Our friendship had only strengthened with time, expanding to include our families. There is something magical about watching our kids play together. I fondly reminisced about the fun times we had during our youthful days.
I once told you that I hoped we would still meet up regularly for tea in our golden years to complain about our husbands, children, and perhaps grandchildren.
You said you imagined it would be hard to hold your tears in on your daughter’s wedding day.
Confronting the Unthinkable
“Likely is stage 4. I need to do chemo”
My heart sank. Thousands of thoughts ran through my mind. “But we are only 37. What about her girl? She is only 6. What is the prognosis? This is too sudden. This can’t be happening. Am I dreaming?”
“Thanks for watching over my child and family. Love you girls,” was your last message to me.
Over the next week, I watched you deteriorate rapidly, confined to the ICU, unable to talk or eat, and remaining sedated as cancer ravaged your lungs, stomach, and brain.
I always believed that you would overcome this, that you could return home and recover. I knew that you were strong-willed and you did your best. But health is beyond our control.
You left us one month after your stage-4 lung cancer diagnosis. It was too sudden, too unexpected, and too tough for me to accept.
Everything feels surreal. Seeing you lifeless on a hospital bed, surrounded by those closest to you. Your funeral. Your cremation. It’s like a bad dream unfolding, and I’m powerless to stop, wake up, and find relief in the realisation that it was only a dream.
Life, Death, and Illusions
Death is the one life event that will happen to us with 100% certainty. However, it remains an abstract concept for many. Why is that so?
Our brains are great illusionists, often failing to let us perceive the true nature of reality.
The human brain is programmed to draw from our lived experiences to create a neural map of our lives, incorporating relationships with people, places, things, routines, habits, and expectations.
It is a mechanism to help the brain “save computing power”, enabling us to make sense of and predict what is happening moment by moment. The possibility of your death was nowhere in my neural map; my brain needed time to assimilate this fact and rewrite its algorithm to navigate this world without your presence.
I hope that after my brain has integrated the code “death of a loved one”, I will gain a little more wisdom to be closer to ultimate reality.
However, the way our brain is wired prevents us from seeing things as they truly are.
It tends to gather information through our five senses, making false assumptions and setting unreal expectations about how events should unfold or how our relationships with others should be. It likes to take shortcuts to conserve energy, clinging to an old mindset or defaulting to comfortable habits and routines.
Our brains want to exist in a predictable, permanent, and lasting world.
And so, we grasp, we chase, and we shun.
Seeking Meaning in the Midst of Loss
We pursue the next high-paying job, promotion, or the latest flashy phone, car, or house. We take for granted that our family and friends will always be there. We avoid discussing illness and death because we cannot imagine a future where either we or our loved ones will be gone.
Your death has prompted me to reflect on what makes life meaningful and where my priorities should lie.
If we want to have a better life with fewer regrets and more joy, we need to rely on the Dharma to overwrite the faulty algorithms in our brains.
The first week after I lost you was excruciatingly painful.
My mind struggled to accept that you would be forever absent from my future. I believed we would have many more chances to continue our yearly tradition of surprising each other with birthday gifts and treats.
Now that you are gone, I wonder: do you know how much I love and cherish our friendship? I was engulfed by overwhelming loss and sorrow. Soon, this morphed into a feeling of unfairness. The cancer had stolen my best friend, robbing all hopes, possibilities, and dreams of watching the kids grow up as we grow old together.
“Grief is love with no place to go” – is a popular quote to describe grief.
As time passed, grief silently reshaped itself within the contours of my daily life. I found this quote untrue. While life comes to an end, love lives on. The love and connection we share live on within us. It endures even after death.
With your passing, our friendship has transcended beyond the physical dimension of space and time, transforming into a spiritual relationship. You remain my best friend in this lifetime. I express my love through internal dialogues with you, often wondering about your journey in the next life and dedicating prayers, well-wishes, and merits to you.
In our physical world, where most relationships are transactional, our understanding of love can be restricted. Our expressions of love are sometimes limited to tangibles such as gifts, time, and physical touch.
The Buddha taught us about love and compassion, which is the wish for sentient beings to be free from suffering and attain happiness. A concept that is easy to grasp but difficult to embrace. If we ponder closely, love and compassion are a spiritual state of mind more than they are physical actions.
“The space is boundless,
So does your compassion.
You wish to be all living beings’ bridge [to the other shore],
It was 4 am and I lost sleep. It was the first night after your passing. You were such a devoted mother, dutiful wife, responsible worker, and one of the kindest friends I ever had.
Why did this have to happen? I have always believed that every significant person and event in our lives is there to teach us important lessons.
Yet losing you so suddenly to cancer seems senseless. We did not even get to say a proper goodbye. I kept questioning myself repeatedly: what was the lesson I needed to learn? I just could not fathom it.
We had been a part of each other’s life for 25 years and remained so close. It felt like a beautiful story which needed to end abruptly and the author struggled to write a conclusion to make it a meaningful read.
As I lay in bed, a deep sorrow gripped my heart tightly. The intense pain in my chest grew every minute, making it hard to breathe. It was too unbearable.
At the next moment, I felt love surrounding me and then enveloping me. It was a peaceful and kind energy that wrapped around me, consoling me with its warm presence, telling me that it knows my pain and suffering. That this too shall pass.
Gradually, the tightness in my chest subsided. I felt lighter. Tears flowed freely, and gratitude surged through every cell in my body. I was certain it was you. I finally knew what the lesson was.
It was friendship.
Appreciating Life’s Beauty & Moments
Through you, I learned what makes a good friend and how to be one. Our precious and beautiful friendship had enriched my life and for that, I am immensely grateful to you.
Over the next few weeks, this gratitude took root and grew. Alongside grief, I experienced a renewed sense of appreciation for events, objects, and people in life.
Saudadeis a Portuguese word that describes a longing for something that has been loved and lost, yet it also captures a sense of joy for having been loved and lost. This “joyful sadness” described my feelings perfectly.
Allow saudade to sit and experiencing it fully within me has given me insights into life.
Life’s meaning is not something to be found; it is created moment by moment in our everyday lives, and gratitude fuels it best.
Gratitude as a Way of Life
Gratitude gifted me with fresh eyes to perceive the beauty and qualities in objects, people, or moments. It helps me to slow down, be present, and be thankful for the good and bad that enter my life.
Gratitude makes the most routine, mundane, or dreadful tasks meaningful. While waiting patiently for my morning coffee, I silently expressed thanks for all the elements that made it possible for me to enjoy my drink. Not taking things for granted makes my life more vivid, rich, and meaningful. My coffee tastes much better now.
Perhaps if we consider gratitude as a way of life more than just a feeling or mental state, our lives will have more bliss, peace, and meaning.
In gratitude, I see you. In gratitude, I see our interconnectedness. In gratitude, I see the Dharma.
Wise Steps:
The love and connection with our departed loved ones transcend physical existence and transform into a spiritual relationship. We can dedicate merits and well-wishes to benefit them in their next life which helps us find solace in grief.
Our brains are masters in creating illusions which obstruct our perception of reality’s transient and ever-evolving nature. By embracing self-awareness and applying the teachings of the Dharma, we can reduce regret and cultivate greater happiness.
Gratitude is a powerful tool for healing. It can help us find a renewed sense of purpose and appreciation for life even during the toughest times.
TLDR: Jia Yee shares on why she started her start-up and how it ended. She explores 3 Buddhist values Gratitude, Fighting Spirit, and Faith
As a writer, I often come across stories of entrepreneurs who have weathered the highs and lows of building a business. But my recent conversation with Jia Yee, a startup founder, inspired me.
Jia Yee shared her unique journey of building her startup from scratch, pouring her heart and soul into it, and eventually walking away as the business matured. What struck me the most was how she found solace and strength in Buddhism, which became a key pillar of support in overcoming the loss of walking away.
Interestingly, the birth of her startup was rooted in death.
From cancer to a start-up
“My startup was my second job in my life. I left my first job after my mom passed away from cancer and I needed that physical and mental break to just really not do anything” Jia Yee shared.
Jia Yee took a break from her first job and started a project “Strength Behind Cancer” which aimed to interview cancer survivors on their stories. She was curious to understand what her mum was going through and sought out stories to honour her mother’s memory. She continued tirelessly tracking interviewees who would share their stories.
During her search for stories, Jia Yee eventually encountered a woman who was in remission from two different forms of cancer. After their interview, the lady could tell that Jia Yee had become disheartened from her mission.
‘Jia Yee, if this is not giving you joy, you don’t have to feel obliged in doing it’ the lady said. After that, Jia Yee realised that each time she conversed with a patient, it evoked memories of her mother’s passing. The pain it brought to Jia Yee was not obvious to her. However, it was obvious to her interviewees.
That comment sparked a deep thought in Jia Yee, “Oh, my mom wouldn’t want me to be milling around. My parents have always been very open about life, they would just want me to be happy and not like, you know, super successful.”
She pondered if she was content with her life, with the conclusion being a negative one.
Inquiring what would bring her joy, she had an immediate response. This then resulted in the inception of her own business.
This is not a sexy story, but we were cleaners as well
Jia Yee found that her greatest joy was in doing projects in the arts scene and quickly found a partner to start a company. Their offering?
A full-service end-to-end creative agency. They would cover conceptualisation to execution across different mediums. Their goal was to put Singaporean design on the international map and shine a light on Singapore’s creatives.
They pitched hard to potential clients but faced a prolonged period of a dry pipeline. This brought anxiety to the founders if they had the right service offering. Then a breakthrough came.
They were cleaning the office when they found out that they had won the contract.
(What happened right before we received the email)
“This is not a sexy story, but we were cleaners as well.” Jia Yee chuckled. As a startup with no projects at the start, they had to do EVERYTHING themselves and cleaning was no exception.
Singapore Tourism Board (STB) awarded them a contract to profile 12 Singapore creatives in Tokyo! Jia Yee was overjoyed.
“For an organisation that’s so much bigger than us, that award gave us validation that we were doing something right!” Jia Yee beamed as she recalled.
This contract kickstarted subsequent projects by exposing their business to more people in the network. It also made future clients trust them more as they, by appearance were two twenty-somethings pitching projects in board rooms.
Their business eventually grew big enough to support creatives (who often do not have stable incomes) in the hardest of times like Covid. That was something recalled with great joy, being able to help an industry that was hit hardest during the lockdowns.
The end begins
After six years of operations, Jia Yee realised she and her business partner had different opinions concerning how the firm should be conducted and what the outlook of the company should be.
As the divergent tension developed further, Jia Yee felt that the best thing to do, when no common ground could be found, was to step down.
“There’s always a time, right time and right place. Maybe that time has concluded and perhaps it’s time for me to move on.” Jia Yee shared.
“If I hung on, cling on, what would it lead to?” She queried.
As she prepared to wind down her share of the business and planned for the exit, she felt a wave of grief. It was as if the baby she had given birth to was now to be given away.
How did she go from grief to peace? I asked. With calm eyes, she shared more.
Coping with the end
Jia Yee said that it centred around three Buddhist concepts: Gratitude, Right Effort, Faith
Gratitude
“Giving thanks. Twice.” Jia Yee smiled. Saying goodbye often entails leaving behind something or experiencing a loss. Hence, gratitude is necessary to remind us of what we have gained and learnt in our journey.
Jia Yee shared that recollecting the good times that she had while running the firm lifted up her mood. Giving thanks for the opportunity to help the arts scene during covid through grants and engaging subcontractors who were in need stood out to her.
She also embodied the essence of metta, by wishing her firm (like we would with people) to be well and happy.
By lifting up her mood and switching her narrative from loss to gain, she smoothened the edges of pain.
Beijing Skyline. Jia Yee’s gratitude for the place’s work brought her into
“6 years wasted could put him (Siddartha) in a tailspin…. But he knew that there must be a way out of this… Raising his fighting spirit to carry on.”
Jia Yee could resonate with the struggles others faced when facing a setback. Even the Buddha had his setbacks when seeking enlightenment.
“When we stab ourselves with our bad moods, we are the ones harming ourselves.“- Thanissaro Bhikkhu.
Jia Yee mentioned that the talk encouraged her to take the leap and work on making her exit from the firm possible. In the face of difficulty, she had to bite her tongue and work through the painful admin of exit.
Tokyo event, with Jia Yee pictured, and hosting guests from the Singapore embassy in Tokyo
Faith
“Faith was carrying me throughout the entire process.” The Buddhist practice of mindfulness, peace, and wisdom stuck with Jia Yee through the process. She started to attend DAYWA, a Dhamma practice group for working professionals, on a weekly basis for guided meditation.
A facilitator asked her ‘What suffering brought her to DAYWA’ which struck Jia Yee as it was in the midst of suffering that she turned to the Dhamma.
That realisation that suffering is to be faced and understood, made her commit to showing up for the weekly sessions.
“Before attending DAYWA, I didn’t really understand the concept of peace. But after consistently meditating with the group, I think I do now” She smiled.
These 3 pillars: Gratitude, Fighting Spirit, and Faith were vital in her farewell process.
Advice to other founders
Jia Yee really felt at peace when I was taking this shot; this was a while after her exit
“Any advice for founders out there?” I quizzed.
She smiled and shared the following points
Always learn from others’ experiences: Not doing so is a blessing missed
Differentiate between good and bad stress. Good stress should not affect your self-confidence and esteem.
Know the balance in your life: Life is not about work. Asking yourself ‘Am I balanced?’ is a key question to keep in mind
Find your spiritual nourishment: Find something that gives your mental energy; this can come from reading or just by sitting quietly
Find like-minded people with the same values: Find those that share your joy and experiences
Conclusion
Running a startup is not as glamorous as most magazines/newsletters might show. It takes hard work and also the wisdom to know when to say goodbye.
By relying on our fighting spirit, gratitude, and faith, founders can garner the strength to let go of what they put their life into.
That’s probably how a person can say goodbye to something very dear to them.
Wholesome Wednesdays (WW): Bringing you curated positive content on Wednesdays to uplift your hump day.
What’s one way we can view Ghost Month? Beyond joss papers and prayers, we can understand how we can die well. Today we cover lessons from a Dhamma practitioner who faced death with ease and also what we can do when life seems to fall apart.
1. 10 Dhamma lessons that helped me in the last months of my life 2. Can life fall into place when it feels like falling apart?
10 Dhamma lessons that helped me in the last months of my life
cr: Unsplash
Summary
Ann Le, a mindfulness trainer and member of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Plum Village community, shares 10 lessons that helped her in the last days of her life. She was hospitalised when sharing these short snippets of wisdom. She would then pass on after months of hospitalisation. We liked it because we could feel her wisdom and bravery in the face of death.
“Practice the habits of happiness in daily life when things are still okay”
Wise Steps
When was the last time you practised happiness in daily life?
If tomorrow was our last day, will we be content with doing all that we wanted to? Life is uncertain.
Can life fall into place when it feels like falling apart?
Cr: Unsplash
Summary
When life falls apart, it can be overwhelming and difficult to know how to cope. While there is no one-size-fits-all solution, there are ways to start putting your life back together. Einzelgänger, a philosophy youtube channel, shares a Buddhist story and how we can apply it to our lives.
” So, the best thing he could do is to find joy in his darkest hour, something that, as opposed to his predicament, lies within his field of control.”
Wise Steps
Reflect on the last time change led to something positive and negative in your life. Have hope that situations do change. Hang in there
Remind yourself ‘this too shall pass’ in both good and bad times
