Career trajectories, pathways, passions, journeys, purpose, calling…
Sure, these are enduring topics, but they seem to be garnering more attention than I’ve seen in a long time. Unsurprising in a world dominated by broad tech disruption, dystopian predictions stemming from AI and job displacement, the post-covid hybrid/return-to-work debate, and (alleged) divides in employment attitudes and expectations across generations.
Over the last few months I’ve been talking to lots of people in my network, colleagues past and present, and as well as corporate leaders I’ve encountered for the first time, and the subject of ‘career purpose’ has kept cropping up.
It got me thinking about my own internal wrangles about this.
Spoiler alert, I’m a work-in-progress. I think we all are. And I don’t have the answers.
In particular, there’s been a lot of healthy debate centred on the trade-off between passion vs. talent. Do what you love, or do what you’re good at?
I think such a simple, either/or question risks being something of a false dichotomy. Life, as ever, is far more complex and nuanced. And being the curious explorer that I am, this topic sparks a broader set of questions.
What if you could do what you love, something that you’re good at, something you feel the world needs, and get paid for it? And what if you could find the sweetspot where the perfect answers to each of these questions intersect?
You might know this as ikigai — an idea that’s grown attention and popularity over the past few years with the blue zone research in Japan to better understand why people there live fuller, longer lives.
And this is the subject of today’s #InsightInHindsight — finding ikigai, your raison d’être.
Oh, and a little about a trip almost two years ago to the day, when I cycled, hiked, and tuk-tuked (I’m going with it) across the Scottish island of Islay… more on that later ⬇️
“If you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life”
One key component of ikigai, what I would say is the starting point, is to do what you love.
Totally agree. 100%. I keep a framed picture of the Holstee Manifesto in my room as a daily reminder. We should all be so lucky to love what we do for work. I count myself as one of the fortunate ones among them. I love what I do. These past few months have further reinforced that.
Attributed as far back as Confucius, this quote about never working a day in your life sounds rosy. However, I’m going to challenge it.
Yes, when we’re not doing what we love, it can be a slog and feel like hard work. And yes, some things happen for a reason or a season. But even those of us fortunate enough to love what we do right now, can have bad days. But we keep at it. We try new things, stretch our comfort zones — and that is proper hard work. But we do it precisely because we love it!
That’s why this part of ikigai, loving what you do, is not a destination or a static, cushy happily-ever-after love-fest. It’s a constant journey of discovery.
Insight, inside
It’s in the word. Inner sight. Wisdom that comes from within. That inner voice that guides you.
The second pillar of ikigai is about doing what you’re good at. So, what happens when we know what we’re good at and what we’re not?
That’s what my inner voice told me for the first half of my life about anything in the physically demanding, athletic space. Don’t get me wrong, I rollerbladed (it was the 90’s!) and cycled for fun most my life but that was it.
My perceived limitation was something I never questioned or tried to disprove. As a child, I had asthma and simply ran out of breath.
So, how is it possible that just now, in the second half of my life, I discover that I can cycle 90 miles in a single day and then go on to cycle for 30-40 miles daily on a Scottish island? (And no, it’s not the whisky that fuelled me, but it did help.)
Maybe I was that guy. And at first, I thought maybe my inner voice was right.
When I first arrived on the island, just off the ferry, I faced a hill climb (yes, a real one, not a metaphorical one) with my backpack weighing me down. I felt all my breath go and thought… how am I ever going to make it?
Thankfully, I wasn’t alone. Sometimes we need to hear someone else’s voice and appreciate that despite our training, we don’t know what we haven’t tried.
What a ride
If you’ve seen my previous articles, you’ll know I seek out nuggets or clues for insight everywhere. A bartender. A dram of whisky. Cycling. Hiking. Watching a sunset. Chatting with an island tuk-tuk driver.
It was Fèis Ìle 2022, the Islay Festival of Whisky and Music, described as “a gathering of whisky and Islay fans from across the globe.”
Whilst I was working at Suntory at the time, I wasn’t there on official business, I wasn’t getting paid to do it, and it wasn’t going to change anyone else’s world — so by ikigai criteria that’s 2 for 4 — but it was something I was passionate about and was surprisingly good at… the cycling part!
For the uninitiated, Islay is a relatively small, remote island known for its abundance of distilleries like Laphroaig, Lagavulin, Bowmore, Bruichladdich, Bunnahabhain, Ardbeg, Kilchoman, Ardnahoe — just to mention the ones I visited that week. It’s blessed with water and peat, which (when peat is burned) infuses Islay single malts with that rich, smoky taste that sets them apart from the rest.
Pay it forward
As best as I can remember, the first time I encountered ikigai was thanks to a rather wise and weathered, Japanese-German man named Utz Reiff, who I serendipitously met when consulting, and someone who would become a mentor and friend. I’d be remiss not to say a big thanks to Utz!
For a few of my friends and colleagues, I’m pretty sure I played that introductory role. If I did, please let me know in the comments and how it’s guided you.
And for those who want to really dive deeper into it, there are books and videos, but this little one-pager from IBM’s Jeremy Connell-Waite has served me well. It contains a more complete visual with cross-reference questions that I refer to when I’m working through it. I’d also recommend connecting with purpose guru Alberto Gonzalez Otero who does a stellar job of explaining the detail behind the concept.
