I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of Ikigai recently, which is a Japanese concept that means “a reason for being”, translating to the source of value in one’s life or the things that make life worthwhile. It’s probably easier if I just enclose an image:  

I have been thinking about it a lot because, once again, I am going through a period where I am thoroughly dissatisfied with my job. Just last month, I was feeling positive that I was performing well in my role and had a promising career ahead of me that would provide me with the financial power to live a fulfilling life, but these past few weeks, I struggle to muster the motivation to simply turn my laptop on. How can my feelings towards work change so rapidly? 

I think Ikigai can help to answer that question. Procurement, my chosen field (if, by chosen, we mean the only graduate scheme that accepted me), is something that I can be paid for and something that I’m good at. It is not, however, something I love, and although some may argue the contrary, I suggest to you that it is definitely not something the world needs. It is, therefore, a profession, which seems to me to be the only one of those four overlapping sections that doesn’t involve any sense of purpose. A passion, a mission and a vocation can all provide you with a sense of purpose, but I don’t believe that a profession can – yes, a profession can provide a sense of purpose if you love it or if the world needs it, of course, but at that point it stops being a profession, because it becomes something more. 

This, then, led me to think about what, if anything, I have in my life that could fill in the rest of the gaps on the Venn Diagram of Ikigai. I hasten to add, by the way, that I am well aware that the Venn Diagram is a narrow, westernised interpretation of the concept of Ikigai, designed to feed our declining attention spans and materialistic urges, which is perhaps emblematic of the exact problem I am considering in this essay, but I will gloss over this point for now, as I’m too tired to fully consider the Japanese interpretation. 

Is writing a passion of mine? Those around me seem to think that it is something I am good at, although I would venture that this is largely because they don’t read widely enough. Nonetheless, even as my own harshest critic, I would concede that I’m not half bad when I find my stride, and it is definitely something I love if the mood catches me. Yes, I suppose writing is a passion of mine then. There’s one, at least. 

I also love reading, and I am pretty good at that, so there’s another passion. I love golf, but I’m definitely not good at that, so we’ll mark that down as an aspirational passion. Come to think of it, there are many things that I love; walking, running, cycling, watching films, visiting museums and art galleries, travelling, cooking, playing video games, watching live sports (in person and on the television), spending time with my friends, philosophising, debating, politics, history, Waitrose, and so on. Ok, the last one is tongue-in-cheek, but I do genuinely love all of those things, and although my abilities in each arena may vary wildly, I would suggest that plenty of them will qualify as passions (perhaps not Waitrose). 

It is, therefore, safe to say that I have passions pretty much sewn up. So what about a mission? What do I love doing that the world actively needs? Ah… nothing. Unless there is some sort of sudden social media craze that obsesses with young fat men watching the darts, I don’t think any of my passions could become missions. Needless to say, social media craze or not, I don’t think any of them could become vocations either – unless you know of anyone who wants to pay me to watch the darts? 

So, in short, I have my profession, and I have plenty of passions, but I have no mission and no vocation. Is this, therefore, what is driving my current restlessness? I think so – but what, other than winning the lottery, could I possibly do about it? 

A good topic, perhaps, for a follow-up essay. Goodnight.