Seppʼs Ikigai

Sepp is actually retired. The only reason I met him (luckily for me) is that my usual tax advisor was on vacation when I needed him, and the former owner, Sepp, was filling in.

And he has perfected the art of tax returns. He understands that completing a tax return is not about accounting, or finding loopholes in the law, but primarily about helping you overcome psychological blocks. It’s therapeutic support.

But instead of exploiting this, as most other tax advisors do, Sepp makes it as easy as possible for his ‘patients’: You bring everything to his office for an appointment (he sends a detailed list beforehand). Then you sit down together and fill it out. It takes a maximum of one hour, and the ordeal is over – clever deductions included. That’s why Sepp can be so unbeatably affordable. But his price isn’t the point – it’s the joy that Sepp radiates. He’s so proud of his humane little system that he’d love to work full-time. And the joy with which he types in the numbers, the care with which he places the processed documents on the pile, and the satisfaction with which he finally seals the signed envelope, even taking it to the post office for his relieved client, are so contagious that I still draw strength from it when I think of him. It’s almost tax season again, and I’m still not sure how to ask my regular tax advisor when he’s going on holiday.

I don’t know many people like Sepp, but there are a few in my life. Many years ago, there was a master hairdresser named Öslem, and there’s an electrician named Roger – they approach their work with the same conscientious joy as Sepp. They’re where they want to be, and therefore always give their very best – and then some. Every interaction with this kind of professional feels so wonderfully grounded and correct that you never even consider looking for another provider.

Now, I’m pretty sure none of the three of them have ever read a book about Japanese principles of living and thinking for everyday life. And yet, at least four of these virtues shine through in everything they do: ikigai, that which makes life worth living – the daily activity that gives you meaning, independent of the market or added value; shoshin, the ‘beginner’s mind’ maintaining openness and curiosity even when you’re already an expert in a field; kaizen, the principle of small, continuous improvement, step by step; and finally, ganbaru, the spirit of perseverance and endurance and giving your best even when tasks are difficult.

As a leader, I’m still driven by the question of how to create conditions for employees that allow them to find such complete fulfilment in their work. And as a customer and guest, I know that trying to train such radiance into someone, whether on command or by example, produces the exact opposite of the intended effect. To be contagious, ikigai must come from within. And that’s precisely what makes Sepp, Öslem, and Roger such small miracles.