Your Transformation Coach
My name is Jason Leow.
I am a positive psychology coach who can help you find life satisfaction and wellbeing through mentoring, activities and products. I will work with you to put together your bespoke transformation plan, according to your goals and aspirations. An alliance of trusted and reliable service and product partners will support our journey.
I am a certified SPARK Resilience coach with a Grad Dip in Applied Positive Psychology, and a Masters in Communications. I specialize in the solution-focused brief method of coaching, and in hypnotherapy. I am a trained psychotherapist affiliated with the International Council of Psychotherapists based in Britain.
I have spent 20 years in media and communications, first as a foreign correspondent and then a Chief Communications Officer and a communications director for various companies. My corporate lives have enabled me to understand and coach successful (if also a bit stressed out and slightly lost) executives and senior managers.
Contact me at email@example.com to discuss having a bespoke transformation plan put together for you.
At The Doing Well Centre
Happy shiny people, smile! That’s if they are not annoying the hell out of everybody else.
World-wide, there’s this tiny emerging movement against all things happy and positive. I say emerging because while the pro-sadness tribe have been around for some years they are only cautiously embraced. It’s still not politically correct to tell people to appreciate their sadness and aggro, and Ms Sunshine over there is actually more muppet than role model. That makes you unpopular, and not a team player, criticisms that are positively career suicide if you’re the ambitious and establishment kind.
The culmination of the “whole person movement” was Pixar’s release in 2015 of “Inside Out”, a movie which demonstrates the limits of Joy, and Sadness as its necessary ally for the complete life. Since then, however, one has hardly heard its lessons discussed or its holism propagated. My point, exactly. Happy shiny is sticky.
Like anything that sticks, it also suffocates. It needs to be used sparingly.
As a positive psychology practitioner, I confess that I don’t in the least bit practice positiveness every day, if at all. I use it when I need it, but it certainly isn’t central to my life. It’s a tool as much as my key is the way into my front door. Without my key there’s no way I can get into the house to feed my cat, listen to Max Richter on Sonos, get slumbered on a foam mattress and do all the other nourishing stuff to prep for the trivialities and annoyances of tomorrow and its people. Yet there are other occasions when I don’t need this key, such as when I’m out cycling or out commiserating with pals over too many gin and tonics. The point is to know when to use it. Positive psychology becomes bunkum when it forms one’s life philosophy, like if someone insists we should drink eight cups of coffee every day in place of water because antioxidants are good for you. At best, it’s an accent and an art piece to salve savaged hearts.
Like everything tasty in life, it needs to be drizzled, not poured. And definitely not consumed from ready-to-eat bowls. Try it wisely.
I’ve spent the last few weeks reading The Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance, an autobiography by an American lawyer who grew up in the dirt-poor Appalachian region of the United States. If you’ve ever heard of “white trash,” that’s what he is, according to him. His people are poor, vulgar-mouthed, straight-talking, violent, mean (and always believing that’s how being human is); suspicious of good people, suspicious of stable families, and often drugged out or/and pregnant with someone’s child. That he was the first to go to college, and then to Yale Law School, was a miracle unlikely to happen again soon for another family like his. It was at the Ivy League school that he learned what being an “elite” meant and succeeding in a “meritocracy” took deep relationships and networks, not just straight As, hard work and good character (a myth many hillbillies who want their children to succeed spread because they have never been in this mysterious “elite” world themselves and never will).
This was a book entirely revelatory for me. I don’t know about you, but I grew up essentially in a hillbilly family on my mother’s Hokkien side. On my father’s Hakka side, I suspect only my father was a hillbilly. Unlike his siblings, who overcame cultural and social obstacles to become middle-class and contented, he was always obsessed about being a poor man’s child and made all his (poor) life decisions based on how to prove to others he wasn’t poor. I grew up around many adults like him, always obsessed with money, quarreling about money and who gave it and who should get it, foul-mouthed, mean-spirited, and very Hokkien in the loud, vulgar, quarrelsome way you find many Hokkiens to be. There is a reason we hear of “Chao Ah Bengs” and “Chao Ah Lians” but never caricatures from a different dialect group. Name one.
It’s telling that in my father’s more normal family clan, five of the eight children in my generation managed to enter university the mainstream way (in our time), meaning we went to Junior College, finished our A-levels, and then enrolled in a local uni. I am the only one among my three siblings who did so. My brother eventually graduated with an associate degree from a community college in Canada, and I suspect had he the means, he might have continued in university and had done very well. My sister: she dropped out of a Sydney-based university, because she said life was very tough when she only had the family sponsoring her fees (actually I was the only family member who was funding her because nobody else had the means then) but we did not have money to sponsor her daily expenses. She earned her allowances doing check-out at a supermarket. They lived in a time before there was UniSim and ITE as viable options, and if you didn’t make it in the mainstream system, you had to find tertiary options outside the country.
My cousins and I remain the only five kids in my extended family to have attended and graduated from university, and we supposedly broke the glass ceiling for our local version of the hillbillies. Mind you, I did so amidst losing my home because my father went bankrupt, and living out of my auntie’s storeroom. At one point, my father went into hiding and left mom to care for her three children, turning her into a single mom overnight. We were counting coins for our weekly meals, and my younger brother washed dishes at Pizza Hut to supplement the family income. One night, before an A-level exam, after months of quietly suppressing the fear of not knowing where to live and how to get money, I went into an episode called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. My mind went into “coma” for nine hours, and when I awoke, I had my revision file right on the page where I had turned nine hours earlier to prepare for the exam. Everything in between was a blank. I went for the exam any way, and barely passed. But I got a place – quite to my surprise – at the National University of Singapore, and the rest, as they say, is history.
I got into coaching and therapy because I know what it’s like to grow up in hillbilly conditions: facing instability; homelessness; adults who are not quite normal and altogether unqualified to take care of themselves, much less the next generation. And the idea that we need optimism; resilience; self-awareness and the ability to dispute negative thoughts to get through just today (tomorrow is another day) are not classroom theories for me. They are lived experiences which I think people in luckier circumstances can practice, if not master. And because overcoming hardship has been real to me, not someone else’s story, I don’t like therapy or coaching that is based on talk and analysis. Clearly, many insights-based therapists are committed to helping their clients heal by helping them gain awareness of their issues. Power to them if their clients succeed.
To me, one doesn’t overcome issues with knowledge. It starts with action, like how one satiates physical hunger not by realizing one is hungry, but by looking for means to find food. This is why I advocate a brand of psychology known as #pragmaticpsychology (my own vain label). Let’s identify the problem, but not spend a lifetime discussing it. Let’s work out the steps to crawl out of that hole, one rung at a time. If you’re into comfort and talky talky, I’m not the therapist or coach for you. But if a solutions-focused approach by a straight-talking therapist suits you, I assure you that your “healing” will be quite productive. True to my hillbilly roots, I am quite blunt — if you’re full of shit, I WILL tell you that you’re full of shit — though I deliver my bluntness gently most of the time. Some people like it. Some others think: how dare you? I pay you to insult me? Well, tough. Go somewhere else then. You will find me an honest therapist: I don’t encourage interminable therapy, for example. I think that’s cheating clients of money. If you only need one session, I’ll tell you that. But if you need many more, I will also ask if you really have the money and the time to spend it. The thing I hate most is to be jerked around by clients who say they can spend their dole on my sessions, but appear and disappear as they please or only when they have the means. This is why I make you book sessions online and prepay them – so that you don’t “play play only” but commit to paying and showing up. Everyone needs to make a living, and make it honestly.
This morning on BBC radio (yes, Millennials, people do listen to radio and it was with my iPhone), I learned about Gretta Vosper and was immediately intrigued by her story. You see, she’s a pastor in a Toronto-based church. But she doesn’t believe in God or Jesus.
Good lord. How does that work?
Her 100-strong congregation is taught that God exists in the relationships they build with one other. When they carry another member through hard times, that is when a miracle happens and there is God. And God’s work is done when they are able to find ways to become resilient, not fade away from their own troubles. There is no God up there who looks down and decides who needs to be lifted or tested. Vosper’s church also has no Bible. The congregation agrees God’s Word is a human construct. They sing hymns but the songs are about love and compassion, and the human spirit. Not God and Jesus and the Light.
Vosper is an atheist pastor – and an ordained minister of the United Church. That title has come under review by the Church and she might actually not have her official title soon. But that doesn’t mean she lacks appeal. Her congregation supports her. I think, and I’m sure many others will agree, that she is fascinating.
Her church sounds remarkably like a spiritual expression of positive psychology. It’s a sanctuary for people to find affirmative values without having to deal with damnation and doctrine. Both outcomes are the same: people feel better about themselves, and that positive identity may even help them be better human beings to others. Community good is done (at the cost of personal salvation, perhaps?). Now I’m no Christian or atheist. I consider myself very open to the spiritual world. Unlike Vosper, I believe there is a higher power. But it’s more energy than the eternal God.
I don’t judge her practice or anyone else’s for that matter. I actually believe her kind of practice will spread. In these troubled times, people want healing and betterment, and if there is a moral leader who can help them without having an agenda of making them believe this or do that, it’s a no-brainer that people will respond. I wish Vosper the very best outcome from the review.
The field of coaching in Singapore is wide, and solutions-focused brief coaching is relatively new. I’d like to find out how much you know about coaching and your future plans.
Please click to answer three simple questions. This will only take five minutes. Help me to provide a relevant and better practice for you.
The Doing Well Centre provides resilience coaching focused on generating solutions for your work teams and you. The approach is action-focused, moving attention away from problems to solutions. It’s also an approach that encourages you to say what you want to do, not what they you want any more or how you feel. It’s a method many Singaporeans have found energizing.
If you would like to leave suggestions instead, I’d welcome them below.
The title is a tad dramatic. It’s taken from a book authored by Hal Elrod. His point is that we can improve our lives by starting the day right. It makes sense. Calm mind, calm body.
He recommends doing meditation, giving ourselves positive affirmations, exercising, and reading and writing to focus on personal growth. All these are good and sensible recommendations. They are not must-dos, however!
I say take the spirit of his ideas, not the letter. What is important for us to do is set a routine. For example, every morning let’s say we get used to doing 15 minutes of breathing meditation or qigong or yoga. This is followed by 10 minutes of reading a book, or listening to an audio text. Finally we get up to complete the by-now-YouTube-famous 7 minute workout, supplemented by a further 40 seconds of planking.
The point is to start every morning being able to do the same things that we know are good for us, in whatever order, no matter how many minutes we can spare. Cannot do 15 minutes of yoga? Then do five. Finish the 7 minute workout, and cap it with 20 seconds of planking. Flexibility is key to making routines work. Funny how that sounds right, yes?
For those who say they can’t get up early enough even to brush their teeth, then forget the Miracle Morning. Do your routine the night before. End the day right. The point is to do a few things that are always certain, always health-giving.
What a miraculous solution!