by Beth Kempton
Tomi told me:
We do not see ourselves as a fashion brand. Increasing numbers of people share our values, and that is why they are drawn to our products. It is our mission to maintain the quality and heritage of all we offer, and to support people to live in a gentle and authentic way.
Besides using locally sourced natural materials and labour to produce their stylish clothing and housewares, Tomi and her husband have undertaken the renovation of several historic buildings, to preserve the history of the area. Overnight visitors are treated to some of Japan’s finest traditional accommodation, 4 and a number of the buildings are used by the community for arts performances and exhibitions.
These days, if you take a stroll down Ōmori-chō’s main street, you might see a group of young mums chatting outside the bakery, a few people heading to work on their bicycles or a couple of older friends on their way to pick mountain vegetables. You’ll walk past rows of carefully maintained wooden houses and hear people calling gentle greetings to each other, as they go about their day. This town is the embodiment of slow living, and there is a tangible sense of place, and of pride in the community from those who call it home.
The life and career Tomi has built here has been a labour of love, and her work has evolved many times along the way. She is a pillar of the community, and can be proud of her role in bringing it back to life. There has been a particular influx of newcomers since the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011, which prompted many people to reconsider the importance of material success, and prioritise what really matters.
Not only are Tomi and her husband blazing a trail for sustainable business, they are also active as shining examples of how a career can be multi-faceted and continually evolving. When they began, they had no idea where this adventure would take them. Now a grandmother, Tomi is still full of ideas and energy. Her life’s work will never be done, and she is grateful for that.
Gungendō’s mantra is ‘Life with roots’. Tomi says, ‘Our ideal lifestyle is like that of a tree – putting down roots which spread through the land, standing firm and growing slowly. Enjoying our daily lives as we take root in the land, pursuing long-term goals and having a positive influence on those around us.’
Personally, I am particularly inspired by the fact that Tomi began Gungendō when she was forty-three, not much older than me as I write this. It’s never too late to create something special. Tomi reminds us how a career can unfold to reveal a scattering of shining treasures, only evident when you surrender to the journey and follow your heart, adopting a career philosophy, not a single career goal.
Walk your own path
One of my favourite kanji in the Japanese language is the character which, when it is read ‘michi ’, means ‘path’ or ‘road’. But it is often used in combination with other characters to mean ‘the way’, in which case it is read dō . You may have heard of it: chadō and sadō (different readings for ) refer to ‘the way of tea’, bushidō ( ) is ‘the way of the warrior’ and Japanese calligraphy is known as shodō ( ), ‘the way of writing’. Among popular martial arts, we find jūdō ( ), ‘the way of gentleness’, and karatedō ( ), often known outside Japan simply as karate , the ‘way of the empty hand’.
In much the same way, our careers are paths. When we look back on the road we have walked thus far, we see that it is not just winding – it often goes back on itself; there are gentle curves and hairpin bends. Effort matters, and commitment is rewarded. The time it took to get to where we are is not the point. The time it will take us to get to where we will go next is not the point. In fact, the results themselves are not the point: the way you get to your results matters more than the results that you get.
Lessons from the dōjō
These days, you are more likely to find mixed-media artist Sara Kabariti in her painting studio than in the dōjō , but almost three decades on from time spent training in martial arts in Japan, she says that experience still informs her life on so many levels. ‘In a nutshell, I learned how to learn. I learned the importance of discipline, hard work and persistence, but also approaching everything I do with great passion and joy. I spent many hundreds of hours practising over and over, working on my form and strength.’
NTC’s Dictionary of Japan’s Business Code Words , under the entry for shūgyō ( – translated as ‘training for intuitive wisdom’) confirms this: ‘In the Japanese value system, the way things are done outweighs what is done … The Japanese believe that the harder something is to learn and the more effort that is required to learn it, the more valuable the knowledge or the skill.’ 5
In Japan, form is everything. This is true both in the hand-crafting of items (which explains why artisans will take decades before they truly recognise their own skill) and in their attitude to life (which explains much of the formality and ritual in Japanese life). Potter Makiko Hastings described how she strives to improve the form of her craft, without ever expecting to attain absolute perfection. She knows that imperfection is the true nature of things, so she works at edging closer to the best she can do and be, without a false expectation of where she will end up.
Excellence over perfection
When the notion of excellence is used as an aspirational motivator, it can be hugely valuable. This is in stark contrast to working towards an elusive goal of perfection with the expectation we will ‘arrive’, burning ourselves out as we relentlessly push on forward, and ending up disappointed because the destination was never reachable in the first place. The difference in understanding is subtle, but the impact is immense.
This attention to form paid off for Sara Kabariti. Recalling the time she competed at the European Jōdō Championships, 6 she told me how the prospect of one particularly long kata (move) was making her really nervous. Her teacher came over and said, ‘Sara, after all your training, your body knows what to do, but your mind won’t allow it to do it.’ At that moment, she understood and let go. She knew that we have to set intentions, show up to practice, do our best. And then trust. She and her partner went on to win the gold.
Sara says:
It’s when we let go and trust that the magic really begins to happen. The Japanese are masters at finding the line of least resistance, even if it doesn’t seem like the logical route. Martial arts teach us to go with the flow of energy and motion, not against it. I also learned that the minute you think you either know it all or you think you cannot do it, you have lost it. I was shown early on to be open and fully in the present moment. Letting go is both a major life lesson and a daily practice. We can set intentions, and show up for practice, but there comes a point where we have to trust and allow things to fall into place in good time. My mantra these days is ‘surrender’.
Set your own pace
To make progress in the direction of your dreams, within the context of your perfectly imperfect life, you will need preparation, dedication and trust in yourself and in the process. You have to let go of the need to have all the answers or a ‘perfect’ picture of the future before playing your part in creating it. A wabi-sabi- inspired world view gives us permission to feel our way through life, paying less attention to what we think others think (or what we think we should do based on what others think) and more attention to what really matters to us. Keep asking questions, and keep moving, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, depending on the ebb and flow of life.
In reading Nihonjin no kokoro, tsutaemasu , a short book about the world of tea by former iemoto (head) of the Urasenke school of tea, Sen Genshitsu, I came across the word johakyū ( ). This refers to three different speeds of action – slow, a little faster and fast. 7 Sen Genshitsu explained how there is a tempo to the tea ceremony, and practitioners must vary the speed as required. He went on to say how they must vary their effort level too – sometimes being gentle, sometimes adding a little strength, sometimes really going for it. As he concluded, this can also be great advice for life.
I have talked a fair bit about slowing down to allow yourself to noti
ce more, sense more, see more and experience more. This comes from a starting point of rushing, which seems to be the default pace for so many of us these days. But slowing down doesn’t mean calling time on a desire to do meaningful work in the world, or having ambition or getting involved in exciting things. Slowing down is important as a counterpoint to running fast, and sometimes it’s good to vary the pace.
And just as Sen Genshitsu said, varying our effort levels is vital for our wellbeing too. We cannot give any project, meeting, opportunity or conversation our full attention when we are trying to juggle many things at once. We have to prioritise well, get organised and focus on one thing at a time.
We have to put our effort where it is going to have the greatest impact, and take us in a direction we actually want to travel in. And for every time we give something our everything, we have to put other things to one side. After a major effort, we have to build in recovery time, and give ourselves permission to take it easy for a while. Using these three gears of speed and three gears of effort can make all the difference to whether or not we enjoy our career journeys, and stay well along the way.
Being open to change
The world of work is changing at the fastest pace since the Industrial Revolution. Many traditional job roles are disappearing, and new opportunities are opening up. None of us can know what a career will look like fifty years from now. We can try to hold on to how things are, or we can embrace the evolution, making the most of it to carve out a career that supports the kind of life we want to live.
This statement has never been truer, when rapidly evolving technology has given many of us the option to work from anywhere, to any rhythm we choose. More than ever, we have to recognise that even if we don’t change, the working world will. The impact on our careers will be determined by whether we embrace that, or try to hold on to the status quo, even as the status quo is shifting.
Our skillsets are not usually industry-specific, and can serve us in many ways. When we relax into the knowledge that our careers are dynamic, not static, we open ourselves up to unknown possibilities. Recognising and planning for the impermanence of the jobs we once thought were secure makes us better prepared if changes are imposed upon us, and reminds us that if we are having a hard time, we don’t have to do it for ever. Would we even want to? We are likely to want very different things at twenty, forty, sixty and eighty years of age.
There is no single perfect career path. There is only the one that we are constructing as we go.
All of this goes against everything many of us have been taught about how to be successful – that we should follow one path and stick to it, that money and status are the goal, that if you don’t reach some particular image of perfection you have failed. Having spent most of the past decade helping people shift between careers, start their own businesses or reprioritise to do more of what they love, I know that attitudes are slowly shifting, but we have a long way to go. On the whole, from what I have seen in my work, we still care far too much about what other people might think, and don’t pay enough attention to what makes sense for us.
We increasingly need to be able to see, read, empathise, question, adapt and course-adjust to accommodate this transitioning world of work. Experts tell us that some of us, and likely many of our children, will live to one hundred and beyond. 8 What difference would it make if you knew that this was going to be true for you?
Questions for looking at the long view
• What difference would it make if you knew you would be likely to be working well into your seventies, or even your eighties?
• Do you want to be doing what you are doing now, until then, presuming that kind of work still exists?
• If not, what kind of work might suit you later in life?
• What difference would it make if you knew that your current career would have its moment and then fade, to make way for another?
• Would you have a different approach to your current role?
• What skills or training might you explore?
• Would you give your creative ideas or side business more attention?
• What else would you nurture?
Now, ask yourself those questions again but this time, instead of looking for the logical answers, tell me this: what does your heart say?
Remember, your heart’s response to beauty is the essence of wabi sabi . So what kind of beauty could you create with your career?
What does your heart say?
Ask the kind of questions that prompt inspired answers
When we ask children, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ we are usually trying to sow the seeds of dreams. But then we sometimes respond in a way that crushes those dreams and can cause long-term damage. ‘An artist? Oh no, dear, you don’t want to be an artist. You can’t make money doing that.’ Or children end up attaching their dreams to a specific job they think will make us proud, in many cases the same job they see us doing. It’s what they know, or what they think we’d like them to do, or what we keep telling them we think they should do.
But then what if they don’t make it into that profession? Or if they do make it, and don’t like it, but don’t want to leave because they feel like they’d be letting us down? Or if they get caught up in a cycle of hustling and jostling for position, status, clients, salary and recognition and, before they know it, they are in midlife, burned out and wondering what happened to the past twenty years? I’m pretty sure none of us wants that for our children or, indeed, for ourselves.
All of these are examples of things I have seen happen time and again to real people in my community. People come to us for support in discovering how to do what they love because they can no longer stand to do what they are doing, but don’t know how to change or figure out what else they could do. The good news is they have no idea just how vast the possibilities are.
A recent international report on the future of work, based on surveys of over 10,000 people across Asia, the UK and USA stated: ‘We are living through a fundamental transformation in the way we work. Automation and “thinking machines” are replacing human tasks and jobs, and changing the skills that organisations are looking for in their people.’ 9
As part of the same report, Blair Sheppard, Global Leader of Strategy and Leadership Development at PwC said: ‘So what should we tell our children? That to stay ahead, you need to focus on your ability to continually adapt, engage with others in that process, and most importantly retain your core sense of identity and values.’ 10
Questions we can ask to invite a different kind of career journey
• What inspires you?
• What matters to you?
• What would you like to create?
• What would you like to change?
• What would you like to experience?
• How could you help people?
• What kind of place would you like to work in?
• What kind of people would you like to work with?
• How would you like to spend your days?
• How do you want to feel about your work?
• What assumptions are you making about your opportunities that may not be true?
It bears repeating: there is no single way to live your life; there is no single career path; there is no perfect way to build your career. There is only evolving it, and it’s up to you if you choose to do that in a way that brings you delight.
The waking dream
There’s something about Japan that has always made me feel that anything is possible. Even back when I couldn’t read any signs, hardly knew anyone and could barely hold a conversation, I always felt something in the air that gave me an extra boost … of what, I’m not quite sure. But that ‘something’ made me open and curious, and led me to all sorts of experiences I could never have imagined, from life-altering encounters with random strangers, to hosting my own TV show. In some ways, it felt like a waking dream. Even now, when I return, it often still does.
I want to gift you some of that, wrapped up like a treasure in a furoshiki cloth, 11 to offer you inspiration and nourishment on your career path. Every time your dreams seem to be disappearing to the periphery of your life, untie the furoshiki and inhale a little of the magic. Take a moment to bring your dream into your field of vision, then bring yourself back to the present and feel your way to the next step on your path. Ask yourself, what is the one thing you could do right now, to take you closer to that dream? What does your heart say?
We cannot know the timeline. We cannot predict the path. But we can be intentional in our steps, and pause once in a while to experience the beauty all around.
(nichinichi kore kōnichi )
Every day is a good day.
Zen proverb 12
WABI-SABI -INSPIRED WISDOM
FOR ENJOYING YOUR CAREER JOURNEY
• There is no one perfect career path.
• Your path may contain several different careers, each supporting your priorities, as you move through the cycle of your life.
• The way you get to your results matters more than the results that you get.
TRY IT: EXPLORE YOUR PATH
First, in a notebook, answer these questions:
• What jobs or roles have you had, either paid or unpaid, that taught you something? (Make a list.) What did each teach you?
• What have you studied at any level that you found interesting? This can be absolutely anything where you have spent time to learn about something in depth, either formally or informally.