Ikigai: Purpose, Meaning, and a Reason For Being

Ikigai: Purpose, Meaning, and a Reason For Being

“Let them remember that there is a meaning beyond absurdity. Let them be sure that every little deed counts, that every word has power, and that we can—every one—do our share to redeem the work in spite of all absurdities and all frustrations and all disappointments. And above all, remember that the meaning of life is to build a life as if it were a work of art.” — Rabbi Abraham Heschel

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What is purpose? What is meaning? What makes life meaningful? How do I build a work of art with my life?

We need a reason for being, or at the very least a distraction to keep us going. So what is it for you? Is there a reason? Or maybe there are distractions? I don't know about you, but distractions are a lot easier to come by and they usually feel a lot better in the moment. Yet, the world tends to not let us forget the overarching question of: What are you doing with your life? And, more importantly... why?

Prefacing Purpose

Just on the outskirts of Santa Clarita, CA in the hills of Stevenson Ranch, there's a dirt path that pencils its way through the sagebrush and onto the ridges of the beautiful southern California mountains. This was a place of refuge for me, an escape. An opportunity to move, sweat, get the heart pumping and clear my mind of all the noise it contained inside. This refuge was never needed more than the time I faced the biggest crossroads of my life.

For more than 20 years, I poured my heart and soul into the game of golf. I loved the nuance and subtlety of the game. I loved the beautiful environment of the courses. I loved the never-ending pursuit of your best in an arena where perfect results never fully ensued. Golf gave more and more meaning to my being the longer I pursued it and the higher up the ladder I climbed. Then, one day, that ladder suddenly started to shake.

After successfully rising the ranks at each competitive level, I was stalled out as a professional golfer, facing several years of lackluster results and several more fighting a systemic back injury that wouldn't seem to go away. Do I keep banging my head against this wall till it topples, or do I change walls entirely? Over time, I started realizing I had placed my ladder on the wrong wall... or maybe it wasn't the "wrong" wall, maybe, more accurately, it was a different wall than I had anticipated. Now, I was faced with climbing down and stepping off that ladder in order to figure out which ladder I was supposed to climb next.

Placing one foot in front of the other, I jogged through the hills of southern California searching for clarity in the midst of my own self-contained world of confusion. With the soft, hazy sun setting over the horizon, I felt as unsettled as I could. What was this? How do you make sense of an experience like this in the moment of experiencing it?

I think I can simply state: we don't. But, over time, through reflection, taking steps and missteps, we begin to see more clearly. We begin to refine this thing called "purpose." We start to slowly see what it is we've been searching for, grasping in the dark like a half-awake, half-blind human groping for the bathroom door at 3am when nature is calling.

“Our main business is not to see what lies dimly at a distance, but to do what lies clearly at hand.”  — Thomas Carlyle

I asked my wife what she thought about when she thinks of purpose or meaning and she had some helpful ideas. The first is: we each have a self-generated version of purpose that we define or hold onto. And secondly, we each have a collective purpose that others give greater weight or add meaning to. In short, purpose is both individual and collective. And in both, it derives meaning from having an end that is larger than one's self.

Now, here's where ikigai starts to enter the picture...

More Than One Way To Skin A Cat

We all have different journeys to and with the idea of purpose. Yet in those journeys, there are common elements and factors that help us voyage a bit better, slightly smarter, and with an extra dose of clarity. Sometimes we find tools that can help us do the job, and one such tool is the Japanese concept of ikigai.

Before we fully arrive there, meander with me just a little more...

I'm guessing you are familiar with the cliche of "knowing there is more than one way to..." (fill in the blank) and likely agree with the truth residing in it. This idea helps us accept the possibility we may choose wrong. I find this very freeing when it comes to purpose. It is also instructive, helping us see that, given a choice between two roads, we can always fall back on the companion cliche which lets us know "all roads lead to Rome."

Yet, what's worth bringing to light is the cultural influence, the subconscious tug we face in determining a reason for being. Culture shapes both our destination and the path we take to get there. It gives a prescribed idea of what is right and what is the right way to do it. We think this way is always right until we are ultimately shocked into seeing the benefits of another way from a culture on the other side.

This calls to mind a poem of Rumi's that stuck with me through the years:

Chinese Art and Greek Art

The Prophet said, “There are some who see me by the same light in which I am seeing them. Our natures are one. Without reference to any strands of lineage, without reference to texts or traditions, we drink the life-water together.”

Here’s a story about that hidden mystery:

The Chinese and the Greeks were arguing as to who were the better artists.

The King said, “We’ll settle this matter with a debate.”

The Chinese began talking, but the Greeks wouldn’t say anything. They left.

The Chinese suggested then that they each be given a room to work on with their artistry, two rooms facing each other and divided by a curtain.

The Chinese asked the King for a hundred colors, all the variations, and each morning they came to where the dyes were kept and took them all.

The Greeks took no colors. “They’re not part of our work.”

They went to their room and began cleaning and polishing the walls. All day every day they made those walls as pure and clear as an open sky.

There is a way that leads from all-colors to colorlessness. Know that the magnificent variety of the clouds and the weather comes from the total simplicity of the sun and the moon.

The Chinese finished, and they were so happy. They beat the drums in the joy of completion.

The King entered their room, astonished by the gorgeous color and detail

The Greeks then pulled the curtain dividing the rooms. The Chinese figures and images shimmeringly reflected on the clear Greek walls. They lived there, even more beautifully, and always changing in the light.

The Greek art is the Sufi way. They don’t study books of philosophical thought.

They make their loving clearer and clearer. No wantings, no anger. In that purity they receive and reflect the images of every moment, from here, from the stars, from the void.

They take them in as though they were seeing with the Lighted Clarity that sees them.

-- Rumi

Our culture shapes our perspective of which path is correct and what our default tendency often is. This is true when it comes to the idea of something as seemingly simple as ikigai. As those of us in the west have begun to become familiar with the idea, we assume of it (or better yet, project onto it), an idea that isn’t wholly true or accurate. I want us to have an open mind and consider what version of the truth we need most in our current place of life, regardless of if we find ourselves as Westerners living in a Western world.

Context Clues

In order to better explain and shed light on the humorous, inner-workings of the Western mindset (at least my version of it), here's a taste of what my writing process often entails for short-form articles:

It typically begins with a random moment of inspiration where an idea suddenly becomes clear, or at least a fragment does. In order to not forget it, I'll usually jot down a few sentences about the idea on a note I've titled "Blog Post Ideation," and then let it rest for the time being. When I begin to feel compelled to push an idea through and give it birth, I'll revisit the short musings and begin constructing a path forward from fragment to masterpiece.

Here's where the Western influence takes hold...

Instead of allowing for nuance, subtlety, grey, or even non-logical or non-rational elements to arise, my tendency is to take the hammer (computer keys) and work on driving whatever it is I believe the nail to be (my original presumption) as efficiently and effectively into the written form as possible. What ensues is your standard  "3 Disciplines To Better Use Your Time," "7 Characteristics Of Influential People," or "5 Keys To Success," ... and on it goes.

This is, generally speaking, a version of the Western ideal: share with me the shortcuts to success so that I can achieve faster, do better, and be more than the person next to me or those who came before. Progress, performance, pursuit. (Now, I must be clear, I am by no means above or beyond any of these mindsets or tendencies. In fact, much of my profession now as a Leadership Develop Coach and Consultant directly rests on their results.)

Several weeks ago, I approached the few sentences on ikigai jotted down in my Blog Post Ideation journal with the same hammer-nail vision for what would come. In order to put together a well-rounded, rational argument, I did my due-diligence google search on where this idea originated from. A few minutes into researching I faced the frustrating dilemma of realizing my entire assumption (and the primary thrust of my article) wasn't the whole story, and in fact, it just wasn’t true. Do I abandon the idea, forsake the effort, and move on to something else? Or, do I ignore the research and pound whatever version of a proverbial nail was left into the keys and fill the empty page staring me in the face? Or... possibly... was there a way in the middle of these two options?

Context clues give away the answer to this rhetorical question as you're halfway through my version of the middle path. I share this background to provide a humorous illustration of a common practice in Western culture, and to provide a preface for what I hope to accomplish here: present a contrasting view of an increasingly popular tool and then allow you, the reader, to decide how it will best serve you.

Finally, we are ready to see the pictures of ikigai:

Part 1: Ikigai for the Western Mind

What is your purpose? What are your dreams and goals? Where are you going in life?

These are the questions that plague us from childhood till our late 40s (at best). Everyone else always wants to know what we're doing with our life, checking in, over and over again, to make sure we don't waste a minute. Despite this not always coming across in the best way, let alone leaving the impression we often need, the idea is a worthy one and it can be a helpful nudge for us to come to terms with the direction we are in fact heading. But figuring that out and keeping it front and center... who is able to do that?

Enter: the phenomena of ikigai.

Originating as a Japanese concept, blogger Marc Winn is thought to be the first person to combine this idea with the Purpose Venn Diagram originally created by Andres Zuzunaga. (You can read more about that history here and here.) In combining these two concepts, Winn created a powerful tool that can help each of us enter into a life of purpose more consistently. And for us Westerners, who doesn't love a good tool?

The Western perception of ikigai is now closely tied into this diagram (including my own before researching for this article). Despite it not being the original intent or true origin story, I think you'll still benefit from examining the chart and its questions.

What do you love to do?

What does the world need from you?

What are you good at doing?

What can you get paid for?

Many times we find ourselves checking one or a few of these boxes off, and two or three is better than one. Other times we may not be able to answer yes to any of these questions. The sweet spot is to be moving in a direction that inches us closer to the center of this diagram, allowing us to use our energy, passion, experience, and skills for good.

So how about you? How are you doing? What shifts are needed for you to move closer to the center of this diagram?

Ask yourself these questions and sit with their answers:

  1. Are you doing what you love?

  2. Is it something that you're good at?

  3. Is that pursuit something you can be paid for?

  4. Is that purpose something the world needs?

The more we can marry, or at least connect, our passion, mission, vocation, and profession, the more our daily actions will be filled with purpose and meaning in life. At least that's how it's felt for me.

Part 2: Ikigai from the Eastern View

When trying to define the differences between Western and Eastern minds, my thoughts always go to the pictures of fitness and religion as instructive metaphors. (Note, these are broad-brushed generalizations that are largely my impression of the two realms, however ignorant or naive they may in fact be.)

On the Western side, if we look at fitness first, take the image of the modern Crossfitter or maybe even the classic bodybuilder. What immediately stands out is the competitive nature. We long for a way to compare ourselves with others, to prove ourselves victorious in both physique and endurance. There is a primal nature in it that fuels our incessant pursuit of better, benchmarking the results each step of the way.

Shifting focus to religion, the Western religious world has largely been dominated by Christianity of various degrees, from Catholicism to Protestants, Evangelicals, and beyond. One of the pillars of Christianity is the combination of scripture and theology. We long for all-encompassing knowledge of the unknown and can spend much of our life pursuing greater and greater degrees of knowledge to make as much known as possible.

If we compare these two Western pursuits with what seems to be common in Eastern cultures, we get a vastly different picture. The two that stand out most in my mind are yoga and Buddhism. When looking at how these compare to the West, you see a picture with less defined goals or results, less comparison and competition, less pursuit of intellectual knowledge, and fewer structures or systems of theology itself. What you find more of is a practice, an emphasis on the journey and not the destination. A focus on finding joy in the little moments that make up the dull drum of daily living.

I'll reiterate, these are very broad brushes on very complex topics, but I have to imagine that this idea applies to the difference between the Western and Eastern versions of ikigai.

One of the most respected works on the concept of ikigai comes from Mieko Kamiya, a renowned psychiatrist from the mid-20th century in Japan. She defined the concept this way:

"According to the dictionary, ikigai means "power necessary for one to live in this world, happiness to be alive, benefit, effectiveness." When we try to translate it into English, German, French etc. It seems that there is no other way than "worth living" or "value or meaning to live". Thus, compared to philosophical / theoretical concepts, the word ikigai shows us how much the Japanese language is ambiguous, but because of this it has an effect of reverberation and amplitude."

- Mieko Kamiya, Ikiagi ni tsuite (On the Meaning of Life)

To add some more color to the Eastern view of ikigai, neuroscientist, Ph.D., and author Ken Mogi defined it as "the spectrum that reflects the complexity of life. He believes that it is important to understand that oftentimes, the simple things are what make people happy, and ikigai starts from very small things. He thinks that ikigai is an integrating concept -- the umbrella term to describe everything that gives people joy." (https://ikigaitribe.com/podcasts/podcast06/)

He goes on to share five pillars of the concept in his book The Little Book of Ikigai:

  1. Starting Small - taking extraordinary care of the small details along the way

  2. Releasing Yourself - finding happiness through acceptance of yourself, one of the most important and difficult tasks

  3. Harmony and Sustainability - applies not just to our relation to nature, but also to our relation with one another

  4. The Joy of Little Things - finding contentment through the rewarding experiences of those little parts of your day that bring you joy

  5. Being in the Here and Now - being present and fully in the moment, releasing your inner-child

(Which I have to say is quite western of him.)

Summing It All Up

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-- Robert Frost

This classic work of Robert Frost has been one of my mom's favorite poems, and it has become one of mine as well.

Whether it's choosing between the road less traveled or the well-worn path, or choosing between the purpose-driven ikigai or the joys of simply living version, is there a "right" choice? ... Is one better than the other?

The point I am grasping at ties into the point of what I feel ikigai represents: there is beauty in both perspectives, and the best path usually rests in the vague, nuanced middle; the grey found between black and white.

Whether it's the Western view of ikigai that says: Living on purpose (meaning: with both intention and direction) is possible and ultimately desirable.

Or if it is the Eastern view that says: Joy in life is found in the simple pleasure of living itself, and we do well to return to a happiness in the mundane.

Don't we need them both?


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