Part 3 of our Blue Zones Series

---

There’s a 98-year-old karate master in Okinawa who still teaches three classes a week. When researchers asked him why he doesn’t retire, he looked genuinely confused. “Retire from what?” he asked. “This is my ikigai.”

His students need him. He needs them. The practice needs to be passed on. Without it, what would be the point of tomorrow?

This is the question that sets Blue Zones apart from the rest of the world: What’s your reason for getting up in the morning?

Not your alarm clock. Not your obligations. Not your to-do list.

Your reason.

The Seven-Year Question

In Okinawa, they call it ikigai (pronounced “ee-key-guy”). In Nicoya, Costa Rica, they call it plan de vida. The words are different, but the concept is universal: a sense of purpose, a reason for being, something that makes life worth living beyond mere survival.

And here’s what the research shows: having a clear sense of purpose is worth about seven years of additional life expectancy.

Seven years.

That’s not a small number. That’s more time than most medical interventions can promise. That’s watching your grandchildren graduate college instead of just starting it. That’s thousands of sunrises, meals with loved ones, books read, gardens tended, stories told.

But here’s the thing nobody tells you about purpose: it doesn’t have to be grand.

The Myth of the Big Purpose

We’ve been sold a lie about purpose. We think it has to be massive, world-changing, resume-worthy. We think we need to cure cancer or write the great American novel or build a billion-dollar company.

So we wait. We search. We read self-help books and take personality tests and go on vision quests, trying to discover our One True Calling.

Meanwhile, the centenarians in Blue Zones are living their purpose by teaching neighborhood kids to fish.

Let me tell you about Francesca, a 94-year-old woman in Sardinia. When researchers asked her about her purpose, she didn’t talk about career achievements or grand ambitions. She talked about her garden.

Every morning, she tends her tomatoes. Every afternoon, she makes pasta for her grandson who stops by after school. Every evening, she sits with her neighbors and talks about the day. This is her ikigai. The tomatoes need her. Her grandson needs her. Her friends need her.

She needs them back.

That’s it. That’s the secret. Purpose isn’t about what you accomplish. It’s about what—and who—needs you to show up.

Finding Your Ikigai (It’s Closer Than You Think)

The beautiful paradox of ikigai is that you probably already have one. You’ve just been taught not to count it.

You’ve been told that purpose has to be profitable, prestigious, or profound. But the Okinawans know better. They know that purpose can be as simple as this: being needed.

So let’s go hunting for your ikigai. Not out in the world, but in the life you’re already living.

The Ikigai Questions

Grab a piece of paper. Or open your notes app. Or just think through these as you read. But actually do this—it’s not rhetorical.

Who would miss you if you stopped showing up?

Not in a morbid way. I mean: Who relies on you? Who lights up when you walk in? Your kid. Your dog. Your Thursday night poker group. The coworker who always asks for your advice. The neighbor whose mail you grab when they’re traveling.

You are someone’s favorite person. You are someone’s first call. You are the one who knows how to fix the thing, make the dish, tell the story. That’s purpose.

What do you do that makes you lose track of time?

Cooking. Woodworking. Playing guitar. Solving crossword puzzles. Coaching little league. Researching your family tree. Bird watching. Writing terrible poetry that no one will ever read.

The Okinawan karate master doesn’t teach because he should. He teaches because when he’s demonstrating a kata, three hours disappear like three minutes. That’s ikigai.

What would you do for free (and maybe already do)?

What do you help people with without being asked? What do you get excited to talk about, even when everyone else’s eyes glaze over? What do you defend in arguments? What do you volunteer for?

In Nicoya, there’s a 92-year-old man whose plan de vida is making traditional ox carts. He doesn’t need the money. He needs to keep the craft alive. He needs to pass it on. That need—to preserve, to teach, to connect past to future—that’s purpose.

What breaks your heart?

What makes you angry? What do you wish was different about the world? What problem do you want to solve, even in some small way?

Maybe it’s animal rescue. Maybe it’s literacy. Maybe it’s loneliness in elderly people or plastic in the ocean or kids who don’t know how to grow food.

Your ikigai might be at the intersection of your heartbreak and your ability to help.

The Adventure of Purpose

Here’s where purpose gets interesting: it’s not a destination. It’s an adventure that unfolds as you show up.

The karate master didn’t wake up at 20 knowing he’d still be teaching at 98. He just kept showing up to the dojo. Day after day, year after year. The purpose revealed itself in the practice.

So how do you turn this from philosophy into real life?

Start With Commitment, Not Clarity

Pick something and show up to it. Not forever. Just for three months.

Volunteer at the animal shelter every Tuesday. Coach a youth sports team. Join a community garden. Teach someone to cook your grandmother’s recipes. Lead a book club. Mentor someone in your field.

You don’t have to know if this is your “true purpose.” You just have to show up consistently enough that people start depending on you. Because here’s the secret: purpose isn’t something you find. It’s something that finds you when you make yourself available.

Make Yourself Needed (On Purpose)

Create obligations that matter.

Get a dog. Dogs are master teachers of ikigai—they need you every single day, and they make that need abundantly clear.

Commit to teaching someone something. Your neighbor’s kid wants to learn chess? You’re their person now. Someone at work wants to learn Excel? Tuesday lunch tutoring sessions.

Plant perennials. They’ll come back next year, and they’ll need you to tend them. You’re building a relationship with the future.

The adventure here: You’re not just filling time. You’re creating ties that bind you to the world. You’re making yourself necessary.

Find Your People Who Need You

Join something that meets regularly.

Not a gym membership you’ll quit. Something with people who will notice if you don’t show up.

A church. A book club. A running group. A community orchestra. A pottery class. A Friday night poker game. A volunteer gig.

The Nicoyans live in tight communities where everyone has a role. You need to build that for yourself. You need to become the person who always brings the guacamole, who always has an extra folding chair, who always knows the answer to the trivia question about 1980s sitcoms.

The adventure here: These people become your tribe. And your ikigai becomes showing up for them.

Create Something Bigger Than Yourself

Start a tradition.

Sunday dinner. Every week. Same time. Your people know they’re invited.

An annual camping trip. A monthly game night. A quarterly neighborhood cleanup.

Write letters to your grandkids that they’ll read someday. Build something with your hands that will outlast you. Plant trees you’ll never see fully grown.

The centenarians in Blue Zones live in cultures thick with tradition. You have to create that thickness yourself. You have to become the keeper of the rituals that make life feel like more than just one day after another.

The adventure here: You’re authoring the story that your people will tell about you. “She always…” “He never missed…” That’s legacy. That’s ikigai.

The Monday Morning Test

Here’s how you know you’re on the right track: Sunday night stops feeling like dread.

When you have ikigai, Monday morning has something in it you’re looking forward to. Not in a “thank God it’s Friday” way, but in a genuine “I get to” way.

I get to see my students.
I get to work on my garden.
I get to call my friend.
I get to make progress on the project.
I get to show up for the people who need me.

The 98-year-old karate master wakes up Tuesday morning excited about Wednesday’s class. The 94-year-old Sardinian woman wakes up thinking about her tomatoes and her grandson’s visit.

What makes you wake up feeling like that?

Your Seven-Year Assignment

Here’s your challenge for this week—not to find your purpose (too much pressure), but to experiment with being needed:

Monday: Identify one person or thing that genuinely needs you. Write it down. Feel that.

Tuesday: Commit to one weekly thing for the next three months. Class. Volunteer shift. Call with a friend. Put it in your calendar.

Wednesday: Teach someone something you’re good at. Anything. Cooking. A card game. How to change a tire. Purpose often lives in passing things on.

Thursday: Join something that meets regularly. Research options. Pick one. Show up next week.

Friday: Create one small tradition. Weekly coffee with a friend. Friday night movie with your kid. Something predictable and precious.

Saturday: Make something with your hands. Bake bread. Build a birdhouse. Knit a scarf. Create something that didn’t exist before you showed up today.

Sunday: Ask someone you love: “What do you need from me?” Then provide it.

The Long View

The centenarians in Blue Zones aren’t living to 100 because they found some cosmic purpose at 30 and rode it into the sunset.

They’re living to 100 because they wake up every day with something to do that matters. Something small. Something immediate. Something that won’t happen if they don’t get out of bed.

The tomatoes won’t water themselves. The students won’t learn the kata. The grandkids won’t hear the stories. The neighbors won’t have anyone to talk to.

This is the secret to longevity hidden inside purpose: when you’re needed, you keep going. When you keep going, you keep living. When you keep living, you get more time. And more time gives you more chances to be needed.

It’s a beautiful cycle. And you can start it today.

You don’t need to quit your job or move to Okinawa or discover your One True Calling. You need to find one thing—just one—that needs you to show up tomorrow.

Then show up.

Then show up again.

Then see what happens.

Your ikigai is waiting. Not out there in the future, but right here in the life you’re already living. In the people who already need you. In the things only you can do.

So here’s my question: What’s your reason for getting up tomorrow?

Not your alarm clock.

Your reason.

Find it. Feed it. Show up for it.

It might just give you seven more years to do exactly that.

---

Next in the series: Downshift – How the world’s longest-lived people handle stress without burning out. (Spoiler: it involves wine and naps.)

Purpose isn’t found; it’s cultivated. If you’re feeling inspired to nurture yours and understand the full ecosystem of a thriving life, the original research is the perfect companion.

I’m on a journey to deepen my own sense of purpose through these principles, and I’d love for you to join me. 

With openness: This link is part of the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program. If you choose to purchase through it, I may earn a small commission. Your price remains the same, and your support helps build a community here focused on living well. Thank you for being part of it.

Let’s support each other in living with more intention. Share what gives you purpose below.