I landed in Japan more than 21 years ago; now I am almost 45. Therefore, I have spent practically half my life here. I have learned a lot from this place and its people, yet every day I still wake up with the excitement of wanting to learn more about this culture. One could say that finding treasures within Japanese culture and communicating them as best as possible has become my profession.
Another of my passions is languages and words. I recently learned that the Japanese language did not have a word to refer to “nature”—in the sense it is used today—until the Meiji era. This surprises us, but someone living in Edo-era Japan, or earlier, did not need the word nature because human beings felt like part of it; there was no need to refer to the natural world as something different from the human or the artificial.
With the arrival of modernity, Japanese imported the meaning of the word nature from English. The Japanese already had the word shizen, which until then was used with other meanings: “that which happens according to its own will,” “by itself,” or “inevitably.” From the end of the Meiji era, it also began to be used with the Western definition of nature.
Shizen is written 自然. The first character, 自, means “by oneself” or “oneself,” and the second, 然, means “is so” or “as it is.” Therefore, even for Japanese people today, the implicit meaning of the word nature is “that which is simply there by itself.”
One of the foundations of Shinto, Japan’s indigenous religion, is that the kami (spirits or gods) live in and are part of nature. One could even say that according to the Shinto worldview, everything that exists is interconnected with nature. Shinto has modernized; even inside cars, computers, and any modern machine, kami can reside. Perhaps this way of feeling the world through Shinto eyes is another reason why the Western meaning of nature took so long to penetrate Japan.
Languages and cultures co-evolve according to the needs of society. Sometimes a language’s vocabulary leads the way; other times, it is society that advances and lacks the words to express what is happening. With the arrival of the Meiji era, Japanese evolved at great speed, having to import the meanings of many foreign words. Now, in the 21st century, societies struggle to keep up; changes—especially technological ones—are so fast that we need to expand our dictionaries.
Japanese has also exported words that have become part of the international vocabulary: emoji, sushi, sudoku, judo, anime, manga, origami, bonsai, futon, tatami, haiku, karate, geisha, kimono, ikebana, umami, otaku, wabisabi, miso, tofu, matcha, kawaii, typhoon, kabuki, sensei, aikido, satori…
Since I started studying Japanese, I was always fascinated whenever I learned a word or expression whose exact meaning was difficult to translate. I don’t remember exactly when I learned the word ikigai, but it was a long time ago, during my first years studying the language, when my twenty-something brain was still able to absorb Japanese like a sponge. What I do remember is immediately thinking, “This word should be known by everyone, not just the Japanese.”
Years later, I met Francesc Miralles. He was traveling through Japan, and I acted as his guide for a couple of days. During one of our walks together, I explained that Japanese had a very special word, ikigai, to refer to what we know as “purpose in life” or “reason for being.” Francesc fell in love with the word immediately and proposed that we write a book together. In 2014, we began writing, and two years later, in March 2016, we launched the first book (the Spanish edition) that explained ikigai to the whole world.
We didn’t have great ambitions, but after a while, we became the best-selling book in India, Turkey, and the Netherlands, and we entered the bestseller rankings in many other places. In the United States, it reached the top of the lists, partly thanks to recommendations from influential people. Oprah Winfrey said that “Ikigai reveals very direct and transformative ways to face modern life,” and Marie Kondo said that “Ikigai urges people to simplify their lives by pursuing what ignites happiness.”
Our book was just the beginning of what quickly became a boom in every corner of the planet. Now there are dozens of books written about ikigai, clothing brands called Ikigai, restaurants and cafes called Ikigai, dojos called Ikigai… You could say that, together, we have managed to incorporate the word into the vocabulary of modern society.
Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life was translated into 70 languages, and the second book, The Ikigai Journey, into 42 languages. This means we receive messages from practically every corner of the globe. These messages thank us for giving them direction during a hard time in their lives; others tell us they found their ikigai, and a few even go as far as to say we saved their lives. This gratitude from our readers has made us see clearly how powerful words can be in helping one another. Perhaps there are other words or ideas in Japanese culture, or elsewhere, capable of helping us see things through new perspectives.
We are often asked, “Why do you think your books on ikigai have been so successful?” At first, I didn’t know what to answer, but now I believe I have a valid response: “Modern society is hungry for ikigai,” or as I also like to say, “We live in an era where we need ikigai more than ever.”
Just as a time came when Japan needed the word “nature,” the time came when the word ikigai needed to go international.
The internet, smartphones, social networks, online streaming services, online shopping, etc., offer us practically infinite and increasingly cheaper options. We have more and more, we are wealthier, and we have to work less time, but people do not seem to be happier—quite the opposite.
Why?
There are many reasons, but I firmly believe the main reason is that all these technological advances have given us comforts; we also live better than in the last century, but in a subtle way, these comforts have been absorbing the meaning from our lives. That is to say, we have been losing our ikigai.
This ikigai crisis is global. Even the inhabitants of Japan are lacking ikigai. When I wrote this book, I was also lost in life; writing it helped me redirect and prioritize my goals and understand what the ikigai of my life really was.
Now, with the arrival of Artificial Intelligence, we face a new tsunami of changes that will improve our lives, but this new technology will rob us of more ikigai than ever. In an era where our jobs are performed by robots and AIs, what will we humans do? What will be our reason for existing? Once again, the word ikigai will be a key tool for defining philosophies of life that give us a reason for being so that we can be happy in a world of technological abundance filled with AI.
Rather than saying we are in an ikigai crisis and that AI will inevitably absorb our reason for being, I like to be optimistic and say that we have entered the Era of Ikigai.
Welcome to the Era of Ikigai! An era in which this word is universal. Now we can travel the world and ask anyone:
What is your ikigai?
Tokyo, December 2025