Understanding my Ikigai or purpose in life

Previously, I wrote “Deep Decluttering”. In that essay, I touched on how important being a mom is to my identity and how I’m now able to let go of my past career as a psychologist. In this essay, I want to do a deeper dive. Specifically, I ask the question, “What’s the purpose of my life?” The answers will impact the way I live right now, and the upcoming decisions I need to make. As usual, I aim to be as candid as possible. I won’t sugarcoat my failures, neither will I obscure my wins.

I hope that after you read this, you’ll be inspired to reflect on your own career/work life. How is it going? Are you still happy doing what you are doing? Or is the life sapped out of you? I know a lot of people who are zombies this way. It’s my aim to show you how I arrived at my central goal. The Japanese have a technique for it called Ikigai.

After I decided to let go of my R.Psy. license, after releasing myself from self-bondage, I said to myself, “Now, I can do whatever the f***k I want.”

Immediately following that liberating statement, I asked, “But what the do I want?” Jordan Petersen (respected author) once said that most people do not ask themselves this fundamentally important question.

I’ll be more definite, “What do I want to do with my career? My job?” Surely, I need a purpose in life, and it would be great if my career aligns with my passions, my inherent and learned talents. Here is where Ikigai stepped in to give me the answer. Or answers.

Various articles written about Ikigai highlight the fact that we need to understand ourselves holistically. We can’t separate the worker-Melany from the mom-Melany. Nor the Melany that is neither-mom-nor-worker-Melany—the Melany that is just herself. Because the Ikigai explored these other aspects well, and because it is presented logically, I used it. Here’s what I discovered. Let’s go through it element by element, and then intersection by intersection. 

Note: Author’s own

First element: what I love to do is to write. What I love to do is to care for my kids. Both are irrevocable reasons why I stay home. I cannot write well when there is a threat of interruption—it is already a struggle with kids around. As a mom/parent, I want to be present while my kids are growing up, I can only be as present at the level I want to be if I’m home. This is the kids’ natural habitat, where they let their guard down, where they are most savage and in need of maternal attention.

As a mom, I may not be a good cook. But who says you need to be a good cook to be a mom? I clean well. I take charge. I have a pair of eyes to see, and an open heart to feel. I can apply my best judgement so that my kids are guided in the minor things (that build up to major things) later on in life.

The job that I am looking for is something that I can do with half of my brain shut (on bad days), because there are bad/gray-area days when you are a parent of young kids. There are many unknowns. If I am going to be an effective parent, I should be functioning well enough on most days, because I have to step up. Kids can’t fend for themselves. (Not at all times, and it depends on their development stage.)

Second element: what the world needs, career-wise are writers, documenters, people who write non-fiction, writers who write like me. What the world needs too, are present parents, moms who parent like me: moms who struggle with mental disorders but are brave enough to transcend the illness for the sake of their kids. I show my vulnerable side to my kids. They know I struggle, they see me struggle, I don’t hide my anorexia from them. Mental health awareness in incorporated into our family dynamics.

Third element: what is paid. Based on my recent forays in the job market, right now, what is in demand as a writer is someone who is digitally literate. I’m aware I base this assessment on my personal experience, albeit limited, it is a valid one. Writers who are paid nowadays are writers who know how to optimize content for the web; writers who can put in the writing on WordPress; writers who can pass plagiarism checks. In short, writers like me. I am aware that as a writer, there are other ways to write to get monetary rewards. Working for media, for instance, working for advertising. But web writing is the type of work I’m gravitating towards. Now. (Previously, I was into ghost writing academic papers. I can also say this earns money, but I don’t like the invisibility of ghost writing.)

Another type of paid writing is writing that will not be taken over by AI in the near future. I don't know exactly where my skills will fit in with the challenge of AI—what I do know is that my skill set needs to evolve.

I might need to upskill to cope. Some elements of writing the way I write now attract me—these are elements that are turn-offs to some of the more creative types of writers. What is realistic—and I am a realistic person—is that the old way of writing is gone. Big media is on its death throes. The training I am mourning for, the journalism course, has long lost its luster, its relevance. I am actually quite updated, even if I lost years of my career to child rearing.

At this point, let me inject a realization: I am a fool to keep on hanging on to the past, and my past ideals of “being a writer”. What has gone is gone. I can never get the old years back. I cannot enroll in a journalism course now. Just because there are plenty of online training courses that are more relevant, and well, get results in the job market. Ten years of not writing to earn money set me back.

The truth is, right now, I am not as established as my peers, the ones who pursued their careers. The people who were working moms, the people who did not marry and/or never had children. The people who live in developed countries where there is state-backed child support.

Now, I am a beginner writer, comparable only to those who are starting out: new grads and those who are beginning their freelance careers. My work buddies are Gen Y and Gen Z. Whether I like it or not, I will have to learn from them. I accept that they will tend to outpace and outshine me. But never mind, I am not competing with them, I’m on my own journey. Let’s continue—

Fourth element: what I do well. Among all the elements, this was surprisingly the hardest to write. To write this, I had to do an inventory my current capabilities. What job don’t I f**k up colossally? What job am I most effective with?

I’ve always said I’m not born with a superior or even above average IQ. I’ve learned everything I have because I am persistently insistent (applying crystallized intelligence versus fluid intelligence or IQ). I was painfully insecure when I was younger—I hated to be proven wrong. So, I strived. Really hard. If you are like me, you tend to believe that a lot of times, “Genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration.”

Here’s the painful part: owning up to my mediocrity. Alternative, kinder terms would be “averageness” or “ordinariness”. I’m resigned to the fact that I will live out an ordinary life. And when I die, relatively speaking, I would be forgotten, just like everybody else. I’m not TOYM material, I’m nobody special.

So, average. A person with an average IQ, a person who makes common mistakes. I’m slightly non-detail-oriented. I don’t have brilliant, original ideas. Like a lot of Filipinos, I’m not very entrepreneurial, which is unexpected because I’m Chinoy too. Related to this, I’m also not very venturesome. Filipinos are not very assertive, and would usually follow orders instead. To some degree, that’s me. I am good at following orders. I behave well with structures and rules, to some degree. I guess it is because I feel safe when I follow a plan. As a consequence, I am conscientious AF. 

My averageness shows up in my writing. I’m not a (very) creative writer, as creative as the more artsy creative writers. I write non-fiction, cannot function with fiction. In addition, I usually like to be assigned a topic. I like having deadlines.

I recognize now that I need other people to keep me in check. Just like most people need other people’s support, other people’s presence, I do too. So, having an accountability partner works for me. I do have self-discipline, but I still need to be policed by other members of society. Just like most people. I’m not CEO material. If all f***s up, I don’t want to be the one left holding the bag—I do that already at home as mom. Why would I want that extra responsibility at work? This is the main reason why I fail in business.

So, you see, I figured it out: I’m just as good (and replaceable) as any other writer. I’m not very career-oriented, nor am I as competitive as I “should be”. Like most people, I just want to stay afloat. I’m just like everybody else that way—average. Is that so bad?

A quiet, predictable life (more or less). It’s not the noblest ideal, it’s not a what-I-want-to-be-when-I-grow-up answer, but that’s what I want.

Melany, what do you want to be when you grow up?

I want to be a freelance writer and Work-From-Home mom.

Cringe.

To not be the best, to not emerge on top. To not earn boatloads of money.

To have a simple, sort-of minimalist lifestyle. To be plain.

Normal is so underrated, but normal is what I want.

When I grow up, I want to be a loving, supportive parent: I vow never to abuse my kids, I vow to raise them in a loving environment, and secure their emotional intelligence. To the best of my ability.

When I grow up, I want to be a writer that will be read by some people. The writing earns me money, and the writing does not rot somewhere, only to be appreciated by art/literary critics. I want my writing to be found meaningful and relevant by an audience, an audience I care about.

How’s that for aspirations? Real life aspirations?

Better.

Now that we are done investigating the elements, let’s take a look at the intersections they make.

First Intersection: where what I love and what I am good at intersect. This represents my passion: So, basically, my passion is writing and mothering (parenting). I express it by writing non-fiction (writing). This includes documenting things, organizing words together, putting down concepts into words, making the theoretical real and seen and visible and explicit.

I approach mothering in the same way that I approach writing. Expect me to provide my kids step-by-step instructions on how to do things. But don’t expect me to say it in a loving, soft voice. A lot of times, I am tone-deaf with feelings—empathy is a learned skill. As a parent, I am not my kids’ friend. I provide the instructions in a firm (sometimes loud voice). Yes, I do bark orders. My son calls me Commander Mom. It took me a while to move away from dictatorship, but this is my style.

My neurotic heart needs order and explicitness.

Facts! Truths! Figures! Lists! Commands! Definitely, I am no Cottagecore Mama.

Facts! Truths! Figures! Lists! Directions! I am no creative writer.

The danger to just following my passion is I might turn out to be a full-time control-freak mom, who writes a lot of lists. I might not be employed, because if I am asked to choose, I will choose to be a stay-at-home mom. Full stop. I’ll then be relevant only at home, and only to my kids, and to one else, nowhere else. Quite a lonely existence.

For the second intersection: where what I love to do and what the world needs: This is my mission. Accordingly, the world needs writers like me who are not exactly the creative types. Meaning, we do not do fiction. We are creative, but only deal with facts. The world needs mothers who are like us, who document/write about motherhood. There are a lot of mom bloggers, if you think about it.

The danger to just executing my mission is, I will end up being a blogger mom. I will do it for the joy of it, but I might not get paid for it. One thing important here: I don’t have the technical armory to be a social media influencer. I dislike making videos of myself. I share photos sparingly. I can’t even comprehend TikTok. Writing is my medium. If I am to do videos, I need other people’s help.

Third Intersection: what the world needs and what I can be paid for. This is my vocation: I can be paid for doing the job of a Copywriter, an Academic Writer, a Ghost Writer for non-fiction titles. These are in-demand jobs right now. Someone is actually willing to pay for these services. But if I only do these kinds of jobs, I will be a robot. A slave to the pay. Outside the sphere of work-life with work-mates, my life will be meaningless.

Fourth Intersection: what I can be paid for and what I am good at. This is my profession: writer, a Work-from-Home writer. But if I only pursue my profession, I devoid myself of family life. I don’t even want to think about it. I need a family to belong to. A warm, loving nest where I am safe. The rest is negotiable.

So, then, let’s look at the final answer. I’ll refer to the Ikigai illustration (Figure 2). I can have a happy and fulfilling life as long as I am paid to do the work of a non-fiction writer, who works from home because she strives to be an authoritative mom. In short, I should be happy where I am, right here, right now.

But why do I yearn for something more? Something is amiss.

My intuition tells me it has something to do with the third intersection (vocation) and the fourth intersection (profession). They are both undernourished. I’m on the right track, but I’m a late bloomer. I paid the motherhood penalty—my work-specific skills deteriorated while I took a hiatus (yeah, a ten-year one). By the time I was ready to work again, I have become a different person.

My former professor, Doc E, says I look very different from the way I looked in college. I now sport a very butch hairstyle. This reflects my slant towards objectivity (vs creativity). I used to have waist-length hair back when I was aspiring to “be a writer”, circa 2000. At 40, when I decided to have short hair for the rest of my life, I was saying to the world, “Here I am. I don’t bullshit around.” A lot of my idealism has melted away. A decade of joblessness and taking care of young kids does that to a woman. A woman like me.

It took me this long to acknowledge what I really wanted to do for work.

It was right in front of my face. My passion is writing and being a mom.

It’s said that "no one can see beyond a choice they do not understand." (The Oracle, from the Movie The Matrix). I’ve only just made the crucial career choice to do what I do now.

When my youngest kid hit seven, I saw the opportunity to bolt—that was 2019. It’s only been three years since I started working. I have a stable full-time role now, but I have not even reached the one-year mark yet. I’m still learning the fundamentals. A lot of the people I admire career-wise, have spent more than a decade perfecting their craft. In their “profession” and “vocation” aspects of Ikigai, they are well-nourished. I need to bone up. It will take time. I understand it now.

So, what happens next? I deny the temptation to look for another job with a bigger pay, benefits, etc., etc., because right now, there are home renovations going on. My job gives me the much-needed structure in this chaotic environment. I need to be exercise self-compassion. Right now, things are on the move, and decluttering is deep work.

Again, the answer, my purpose in life, is right in front of my face. I just need to be present, live it, and own it. Breathe, Melany. Breathe. I am also keeping a screenshot of Figure 2 on my phone so I won’t forget what the hell I am doing this for.

It took me more than a month to write this essay, longer than expected. As a bonus lesson, I learned to be patient with myself. You can’t rush the psyche.

Also, it’s hard to be honest with yourself when doing the Ikigai. What if is asking these questions brings up answers that don’t match your expectations? You’ll need to face the fact that you are a “failure”. Imperfect. Human. You. Then you have to bring out the self-compassion, self-acceptance. You will have to forgive yourself. And maybe, there will be self-love.

That’s what happened to me, at least.