Ikigai: On purpose

Ikigai (生き甲斐, lit. 'a reason for being') is a Japanese concept referring to something that gives a person a sense of purpose, a reason for living. (Wikipedia)

I began watching Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones on Netflix with my parents. The first episode takes place in Okinawa, Japan, and the last—and perhaps most lasting—concept introduced as a way to understand and respect the longevity of residents is that of ikigai.

I think we do this very American thing in the U.S. of overcomplicating this quite a bit. We make it tied to profession; we put it in a box of branding; we think we need to pitch it in an elevator and that it is one big, fixed thing. This is my life. This is my purpose.

But, wait: “More generally (ikigai) may refer to something that brings pleasure or fulfilment.[1]” And purpose can change in every moment. Maybe it’s meant to morph.

I’ve been looking forward to find my “purpose” rather than orienting to the here and now, the life being lived. The sunshine gives me purpose; writing this little thing brings pleasure and relationships give me the most beautiful reasons for living.

Ikigai; life on purpose.

Our thoughts are just thoughts

I had this thought the other day. Our thoughts are just thoughts. They are not our responsibility; but what we do with them, is. Do we choose to identify? Do we hold on? Do we let them go, and fall away to the earth to be absorbed and transformed into whatever may be needed?

And for some guidance on moving past them, and transmuted them, I highly recommend Byron Katie’s Four Liberating Questions.

Who am i without this? / Byron Katie's Four Questions

Author Byron Katie developing something called Four Liberating Questions, a brief self-inquiry process that is as simple as it is profound. It’s also called “The Work,” and I’ve found it to be an incredibly effective method to move beyond thought traps, controlling thoughts and negative thoughts. The background:

I discovered that when I believed my thoughts I suffered, but when I didn’t believe them I didn’t suffer, and that this is true for every human being. Freedom is as simple as that. I found that suffering is optional. I found a joy within me that has never disappeared, not for a single moment. That joy is in everyone, always. And I invite you not to believe me. I invite you to test it for yourself.

– Byron Katie

And now for The Questions. It goes like this:

1. Is it true?

2. Can you absolutely know that it’s true?

3. How do you react when you believe that thought?

4. Who would you be without the thought?

When I’ve shared it with others, they’ve found it as powerful and effective as I have. At this point, I find myself moving through the questions almost automatically, often in my head. When I feel particularly stuck, however, and especially when I first began using them, I would journal out the questions and my responses.

I’ve made it a bit of my own by asking myself the question, “Who am I without this?” when I find myself particularly attached to an idea, thought or identity. It’s sometimes scary to answer, but on the other side of all those feelings, it’s always liberating.

See Byron Katie’s page for more, including the invitation on the home page: “Meet your Internal Wisdom. The Work is meditation. It is a method of inquiry born directly out of Byron Katie’s experience. This practice allows you to access the wisdom that always exists within you.”

What is mine

I wrote before about the importance, freedom and benevolence I’ve found in understanding what isn’t mine—to take on, carry, understand, process, etc. (A therapist would probably call these boundaries from codependence or enmeshment? I’m currently reading Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself by Nedra Glover Tawwab.) At the same time, that clarity also makes it more obvious to me what is mine, and, as a result, makes it ever more important that I take responsibility for that. And something we’re always responsible for, I continue to remind myself, is how we react, or, more ideally, *respond* to any situation. (A “response” factors in an extra bit of time for conscious choice, and I’ve found meditation so very helpful in moving me from reactions to responses.)

I think we’re each given a little packet of things in this world that are our LEGOs of life to build with, play with, work through, create with and understand; challenges and inclinations and interests and such. Sometimes we may build with others using our own set, but we still need to take responsibility for our pieces. And even if we don’t particularly like all of our pieces, well, that’s our set, that’s set, and maybe what we can do is use them to make something we love.

That is growth

Someone pointed out to me once that I said, “that’s growth!” a lot, and that they liked that I celebrated that, even the small things. This, in particular, was after something very silly that I can’t remember and I’d said it as a joke, but I appreciated that, because I didn’t even really realize I was doing it, or had done it other times before. (And that, I guess, shows us in and of Itself how valuable, and even critical, other relationships are to reflecting back our own growth, and, as a result, encouraging us to grow even more!)

My therapist called them “sparkling moments,” I think, which reminds me of the little Christmas lights I see twinkling in my Tía Nora’s neighborhood in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico, where I sit outside writing this as I listen to the little coqui frogs chirp.

When I was here a year ago, I wasn’t writing here. This place did not yet exist, this blog, and now, here we are. That’s growth!

Gratitude is a choice

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I woke up and went to bed reflecting on what my friend Brooke often says: “Gratitude is a choice.”

I spent the day mostly offline, not having to work (grateful), with family and family friends (grateful), cooking and enjoying a fresh, healthy meal (grateful), doing Zumba with my lifelong neighbor and friend for an hour, her leading a class of all ages, all of us dancing, smiling, shaking it out (grateful).

How am I grateful? Let me count the ways…

Happy Thanksgiving!

I can choose fear, or I can choose trust

Yesterday, after I finished lunch, my mind started to take me to a place of potential future outcomes that very immediately felt scary. It pertained to something I was processing into a new understanding, a new reality, the other week. Through the waves, I had found—I have found—a wider stability, a deeper capacity to be in the now, rather than what if’s. Still, there are moments, and that’s OK. The voice that settled me as those frightening possibilities began to form as thoughts in my head, said, “You can choose fear, or you can choose trust.”

I choose trust. I chose trust in that moment, and I choose trust in writing right now. The reality is what it is; the rest, and me, is whatever I choose for it to be.

Grow curiously

I bought a Monstera at the Mar Vista Farmers Market not long after moving to Los Angeles. I was with my friend Katie, and I named the plant Moana. It had had already nearly outgrown its farmers market pot, and the nice people there repotted it for me, and I took it home to put on my dresser in my bedroom, where stretches awake to reach the morning sun and cranes to see the sunset color Century City and the Hills in the distance a gentle pink.

A week into settling into her new home, both pot and place, Moana was reaching in new directions, taller than before, splaying out, welcoming it all in. I sent a photo to Katie and she responded with emoji smiles, admiring comments and said, “I love how they grow, so curious.”

To grow curiously; what a beautiful, playful concept. How much more enjoyable, fun, easeful, experimental and gracious is all growth, all learning, all possibility, when rooted in curiosity? So much more, I feel.

May we all always grow curiously.

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For Katie, with whom curious growth led us to life abroad in Buenos Aires and on many beautiful trips, from Japan to Santa Barbara, and I’m sure more to come