The Slashed “/“ Life

During my acute recovery period at the resort, after thinking about all the little things I had kept postponing, I began to see something deeper.

Maybe I hadn’t only postponed the things I wanted to do.

Maybe I had made the definition of myself too small.

As I grew older, life seemed to ask me to become more specific.

Be successful. Be responsible. Build financial stability. Be a good husband. Be a wise leader. Be a capable CEO.

None of these are bad things. I wanted many of them myself.

But slowly, I gave more and more space to only a few identities—businessman, responsible person, loving husband, leader.

And the space in which I allowed myself to live became smaller.

What We Call Maturity

Sometimes we call this maturity.

We become stable. We become experts. We know our responsibilities. We become good at what society, family, work—and perhaps our own expectations—ask from us.

But when I look back at myself when I was younger, I wasn’t only one thing.

I played with electronics. I moved furniture around. I fixed things. I learned things simply because they were interesting, without needing to explain how they would improve my future.

Somewhere along the way, I began asking different questions:

Is this useful? Is this important? Does this fit the person I am supposed to be?

And perhaps the most uncomfortable one:

What will people think?

The more serious I became about life, the fewer ways I seemed to allow myself to live it.

What If I Am More Than One Thing?

During recovery, I was listening to Professional Troublemaker audiobook by Luvvie Ajayi, and her idea of slashed life make me clicked.

The idea stayed with me.

What if I don’t need to define myself with one title—or even two or three?

What if all these different parts of me are allowed to exist at the same time?

Not just one title but more slashes of what I truly proud of being –

Nay — First of his name / loving husband of Nora / youngest son of the family / brother of five sisters / in-law of good people / best friend of the best friends / father of Kelvin, my dog / architect of the business / founder of Grand Diamonds / leader of the enthusiastic / traveler of the world / pupil of the Buddha / student of the world / plumber / electrician / master of the DIY project / maker of latte art / piano player / baker ...

And perhaps tomorrow:

Something else.

I hope so.

Because having more slashes doesn’t mean adding more things to my to-do list. It doesn’t mean becoming more ambitious or collecting more titles.

It is almost the opposite.

The slashes are not another list of people I have to become. They are permissions to be more of who I already am.

Permission to Be Myself

Permission to be serious about business today and play with LEDs tomorrow. To be a CEO in the morning and the plumber of the house on Sunday. To learn something without asking whether it will make me more successful.

Permission to do something simply because it feels like me.

For a long time, I allowed expectations—some from society, some from people around me, and probably many created by myself—to define the space in which I could live.

From this recovery, I want to make that space wider again.

Most importantly, I truly believe the people who love me will accept me for who I am, not for what I have done.

Maybe they will see me someday soldering some unnecessary little project, playing a Christmas song badly on the piano, or trying to make a leaf on a latte.

It doesn’t have to mean anything more.

It is me.

Maybe a richer life doesn’t need another expectation.

Maybe it needs permission.

Permission to have another slash.

Shaped from my audio journals with the help of an AI assistant.