The Search for Ikigai

Twenty years ago, on the Bay Bridge, a stranger paid my tolls.

To them, it was likely a fleeting moment of generosity, forgotten as quickly as it happened. But for me, it became a cornerstone of understanding how small acts of kindness can create endless ripples through time.

Two decades later, i still think about that moment every day, watching how that single act has multiplied into countless others, spreading outward like waves in an infinite pool.

i constantly find myself thinking about purpose, what my value is to the world. i think about the ancient Japanese concept of Ikigai, the intersection of four vital elements that supposedly lead to a life of meaning:

  • What you love

  • What you're good at

  • What the world needs

  • What you can be paid for

Like any journey of self-discovery, mine is filled with both clarity and confusion, certainty and doubt.

It seems like every day, i receive a message from someone whose life i've touched in some way. They write to tell me how my openness, my different approach to business, my willingness to connect on a personal level, has inspired them.

They appreciate that i choose transparency over opacity, human connection over profit margins.

These messages are humbling. Deeply, profoundly humbling. Each one a reminder that i'm creating my own ripples, just like that stranger on the Bay Bridge did for me so many years ago.

Yet in the quiet moments, when the glow of these messages fades, a persistent voice whispers in the back of my mind, "That's great but what about getting paid?"

It's a voice that creates an uncomfortable tension, forcing me to confront a challenging reality. The very things that people value most about what i do, the things that seem to align perfectly with what i love, what i'm good at, and what the world needs, are the things i seriously struggle to monetize.

In the beautiful complexity of Ikigai's overlapping circles, i find myself in a peculiar space. The intersection of three circles but not four. It's a place of delight and fullness, yes, but also of financial uncertainty. When i create content that moves people, when i have conversations that matter, when i help someone see business or life differently, i feel complete. i feel purpose. But that completeness comes with a counterweight of anxiety about sustainable income and paying my bills and taking care of my obligations.

Some nights, most nights, lying awake, i wonder, i think, my inner voice dominates the conversation. Is this the way it has to be? Is it naive to think we can have all four elements of Ikigai?

Perhaps life only allows us to choose two spheres, or if we're fortunate, three. Maybe true Ikigai, that perfect central overlap of all four circles, is more of a path, a journey, than an actual destination.

Or perhaps i'm exactly where i need to be, learning to find peace in the imperfect balance of purpose and practicality.

What i do know is that when i receive messages from people saying i've made a real difference, when i hear that my words or actions have created positive change, i feel that same energy i felt on the Bay Bridge two decades ago.

It's the energy of those ripples, moving outward, touching lives in ways i might never fully understand. And while that might not perfectly fill all four circles of Ikigai, it fills something equally important. It fills the deep human desire to matter, to contribute, to make the world a little better than we found it.

The question i'm left with isn't a simple one, ‘Should i be content with three circles well filled, accepting that the fourth of financial stability might always be just out of reach? Or should i continue searching for that elusive perfect center where all four circles meet?’

i don't have that answer. But maybe the searching itself, this wrestling with purpose and practicality, is part of the journey toward understanding what Ikigai truly means.

And perhaps me sitting down to write to you today in a way is helping remind myself that value isn't always measured in an exchange of currency and that sometimes the most meaningful impacts we have on the world can't be quantified in traditional ways.

jason thompson

Jason Thompson is the CEO and co-founder of 33 Sticks, a boutique analytics company focused on helping businesses make human-centered decisions through data. He regularly speaks on topics related to data literacy and ethical analytics practices and is the co-author of the analytics children’s book ‘A is for Analytics’

https://www.hippieceolife.com/
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