Japanese values abroad: Reflections on Ikigai, Kaizen and Ichigo Ichie
- Locus of Life
- Jul 10
- 9 min read
Living abroad can sometimes make you notice things you never thought about when you were still in your home country.
For me, Japanese values abroad are more than ideas to be explained. They are something I only began to recognise more clearly after living outside Japan.
The way people relate to one another.
The way time is held.
The feeling of putting things in order.
The quietness of simply sitting still.
The wish to honour the person, moment or place in front of you.
For a long time, I did not think of these things as “Japanese values”. They were simply part of everyday life.
They were not something I had formally studied. They had quietly become part of me through family, school, ordinary routines, relationships and the atmosphere of the culture I grew up in.
In recent years, Japanese words and ideas have often been introduced in the UK and elsewhere as gentle ways of thinking about wellbeing.
Ikigai, kaizen, ichigo ichie, wabi-sabi, kintsugi and shinrin-yoku are some of the words that many people have come across.
I find this lovely.
There is something moving about seeing the quieter aspects of Japanese culture reach people across different countries.
If these words help someone slow down, reflect, or feel a little more connected to themselves, that feels meaningful.
At the same time, as someone who grew up in Japan and has now lived in the UK for many years, I also feel there is another layer to these ideas.
Books and articles can open a door. They can offer language, curiosity and inspiration.
But some values are also felt through everyday life: through the seasons, relationships, silence, rituals, family expectations, school culture, community and the small habits that shape us before we even have words for them.
It was only after living abroad that I began to realise that many of the things I had taken for granted were, in fact, rooted in the culture I had grown up in.
Japanese values abroad
When I was living in Japan, I did not walk around thinking, “This is a Japanese value.”
Taking off shoes at the entrance.
Leaving a space clean after using it.
Being aware of other people’s time and feelings.
Trying to keep promises.
Sensing the atmosphere without everything needing to be said directly.
These were not teachings I consciously collected. They were simply part of life.
Of course, Japanese values are not always easy or comforting.
They can also become heavy.
Trying not to trouble others can make it difficult to ask for help.
Being considerate can become exhausting when it means constantly putting yourself last.
Reading the atmosphere can sometimes make it harder to express what you truly feel.
So I do not want to idealise these values.
But I also do not want to dismiss them.
Within them, there can be care, respect, sensitivity and an awareness that our actions affect others.
Living abroad helped me see both sides more clearly.
The parts of Japanese culture that supported me.
And the parts I needed to loosen my grip on.
Holding both has become part of my own self-understanding.
Japanese words as gentle guides for life
In many English-speaking spaces, Japanese words are often introduced as ways to live more calmly or meaningfully.
Ikigai is sometimes described as a sense of purpose.
Kaizen is often understood as small, continuous improvement.
Ichigo ichie is usually explained as treasuring the present moment and the encounter in front of you.
I can understand why these ideas resonate.
Many people are tired of pressure, productivity and constant striving.
There is a longing for something quieter.
A way of living that allows imperfection.
A way of noticing small things.
A way of being more present.
In that sense, these Japanese words can offer something gentle and grounding.
But when I hear them as someone who grew up in Japan, I also feel that they are more than attractive life philosophies.
They are connected to ordinary life.
To grandparents’ words.
To school routines.
To seasonal awareness.
To temples and shrines.
To silence.
To unspoken expectations.
To the way people learn to notice others.
For me, these ideas are not separate concepts floating on their own. They are woven into a much wider cultural atmosphere.
What words alone cannot fully express
I do not want to criticise the way Japanese ideas are introduced overseas.
Quite the opposite.
I am glad that people are interested.
For some, a book or article may be the first doorway into Japanese culture. It may help them reflect on their own life, slow down, or feel less alone.
That matters.
At the same time, every culture has things that words alone cannot fully hold.
Japan has an atmosphere that cannot always be explained neatly.
When I return to Japan, I sometimes visit temples.
I sit quietly.
There is no need to achieve anything.
No need to understand anything perfectly.
Sometimes all I hear is the wind, birds, leaves moving, or the soft sounds of people passing nearby.
In that kind of stillness, I feel something I cannot easily translate.
A quiet settling.
A sense that I do not need to hurry.
A feeling of being held within a rhythm larger than myself.
Perhaps because I grew up within that kind of atmosphere, something of it remains in me.
This does not mean that only Japanese people can understand Japanese values.
Every culture has its own atmosphere, humour, rhythm, silence and emotional language.
British culture, too, has ways of relating, joking, queuing, holding distance, showing care indirectly, and communicating through understatement.
These things cannot be fully understood through explanation alone. They are felt over time.
In the same way, Japanese values can be studied, appreciated and practised by people from many backgrounds.
But they may also deepen through experience, attention and humility.
Japanese values naturally shape the way I meet people
Sometimes I am asked whether I use these Japanese ideas in my counselling work.
It is a thoughtful question.
My honest answer is that I do not offer ikigai, kaizen or ichigo ichie as formal counselling methods.
They are not techniques I have added to my practice as a structured programme.
My counselling work is grounded in psychological understanding, counselling training and careful attention to each person’s emotional world, relationships, history and present circumstances.
But at the same time, I cannot separate myself entirely from the culture that shaped me.
The way I sit with people.
The way I respect small changes.
The way I do not rush someone towards an answer.
The way I listen for what has not yet found words.
The way I try to honour the pace of the person in front of me.
Perhaps these are not “Japanese methods”.
Perhaps they are simply part of how I have learned to meet another human being.
Ikigai is more than finding a life purpose
In English, ikigai is often described as a life purpose or mission.
That can be one meaningful interpretation.
But for me, ikigai can also be much smaller and closer to everyday life.
Morning light.
A warm cup of tea with someone.
Finishing a small task and feeling a little relieved.
Hearing the voice of someone you care about.
Feeling that you have been useful to someone, even in a small way.
These may not look like grand life purposes.
But when the heart is tired, small sources of meaning can become deeply important.
In counselling, too, people do not always need to begin with a large question such as,
“What is my purpose in life?”
Sometimes the beginning is much smaller.
What helps me breathe a little today?
What gives me a small sense of safety?
What still matters to me, even quietly?
Those questions can become a gentle beginning.
Kaizen is not about becoming perfect
Kaizen is often introduced as the idea of making small improvements over time.
Psychologically, there is something very helpful in this.
When people try to change everything at once, they can become overwhelmed.
I must become stronger.
I must be more positive.
I must heal quickly.
I must not feel this way anymore.
The more we pressure ourselves to change, the more tense the mind and body can become.
For me, the heart of small change is not self-criticism.
It is not about rejecting who you are now.
It is not about becoming a better version of yourself through force.
It may simply mean finding one small thing that makes life a little less heavy.
Resting earlier.
Writing down something you could not say.
Not replying immediately to a request that feels too much.
Letting yourself tell someone, “I am finding this difficult.”
These may not look like dramatic changes from the outside.
But emotionally, they can matter.
Ichigo Ichie is treasuring moments that will never come again
Ichigo ichie has been an important phrase for me since I was young.
At the time, I do not think I could have explained its meaning deeply.
But something about it stayed with me.
The sense that today will not come again in exactly the same way.
The sense that the person in front of me, and the time we share, deserves care.
There is both tenderness and sadness in that phrase.
An ordinary conversation.
A meeting.
A goodbye.
A moment that seems small at the time.
None of them will return in exactly the same form.
Now that I work as a counsellor, ichigo ichie has become even more meaningful to me.
Each session is different.
Even when I meet the same person again, the words that come that day belong to that particular moment.
The feeling in the room is different.
The silence is different.
The readiness to say something may be different.
That is why I try to listen not only to the words someone speaks, but also to the feelings that are still
forming beneath them.
Not rushing.
Not forcing clarity.
Simply being present with what is here now.
That, for me, is one way ichigo ichie quietly lives in my work.
The values we grow up with shape how we relate to others
We all receive something from the culture we grow up in.
Some of it supports us.
Some of it may restrict us.
You must endure.
You must not trouble others.
You must not show weakness.
You must sense what others need before speaking.
For people living abroad, these inner messages can become even more complicated.
Adapting to another culture already takes emotional energy.
If you are also carrying strong expectations from your culture of origin, you may find yourself becoming very careful, very quiet, or very self-contained.
You may not even notice how much you are holding.
At the same time, the sensitivity you grew up with may also be a strength.
It may help you notice others.
It may help you build trust.
It may help you care deeply.
The question is not whether a cultural value is good or bad.
The question may be:
Which parts of this value are supporting me?
Which parts are making life harder for me now?
And how can I carry what matters, without losing myself?
Living abroad helped me rediscover what had always been there
Living abroad can sometimes blur your sense of who you are.
Language changes.
Social rules change.
Humour changes.
The distance between people changes.
Things that once felt natural may no longer be understood in the same way.
This can be painful.
But it can also become a doorway into self-understanding.
What have I always valued?
What makes me feel safe?
What did I learn to carry without realising it?
What do I want to keep?
What do I need to soften?
For me, ikigai, kaizen and ichigo ichie are not ideas I discovered after moving abroad.
They were already there in the background of my life.
But living abroad helped me see them differently.
I do not want to present them as the “correct” Japanese way of living.
Instead, I see them as gentle doorways into understanding culture, identity, emotional life and the quiet values that shape us.
Culture forms us.
But it does not have to confine us.
We can look at what we have inherited, understand how it has shaped us, and choose how we want to carry it now.
Perhaps that is one of the quieter gifts of living abroad.
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Living abroad often gives us the opportunity to see ourselves from a different perspective.
Sometimes we begin to notice values we have quietly carried for years.
Some of them continue to support us.
Others may no longer fit the life we are living now.
You do not have to work all of that out on your own.
You do not need to arrive with everything clearly explained or neatly organised.
Sometimes it is enough simply to be curious about yourself.
Counselling is not about telling you what values you should live by.
It is a gentle space to explore what has shaped you, what still feels true to you, and how you would like to move forward in a way that feels authentic.
If reading this article has left you wondering about your own story, your own values, or the person you are becoming through living abroad, you are very welcome to come and explore those questions with me.
[🔽 Book your free 30-minute online session here]
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