Let’s Toast To That: What Happens When the Milestone Ends? (ft. Covid, Credential Fatigue & Ikigai)

📖 Book Title & Author

Ikigai by Héctor García & Francesc Miralles

🔥 The Toast Moment

“The people who live the longest are not those who avoid stress, but those who find meaning in what they do.”

🔥 The Subconscious Is a Strong Thing

t started out as a whisper. Then a nudge. Then a full-blown Amazon attack.

First, I heard about ikigai in Diary of a CEO. Steven Bartlett was talking about Japanese cars and how even engineering can be rooted in purpose.

Then, a post popped up on my work Facebook feed.

“Discover your Ikigai!” it said, with stock image energy and HR-approved fonts.

Next thing I know, Amazon’s algorithm is like:

“Hey bestie, you’d love this.”

And ba da bing, ba da boom—I’m holding the book in my hands, wondering when the universe got so good at passive-aggressive suggestions.

So, I started reading. And wow.

🥂Why It Deserves Toast

When I read about ikigai—the Japanese concept of purpose—I didn’t picture some dreamy, wholesome life montage.

I thought of a very grey time in my life.

Not pitch black—I’ve had those.

But this? This was different. It wasn’t a crisis. It was the kind of slow-burn confusion that eats at you quietly. A conflicted fog.

And I never understood why it felt so heavy. Not until recently.

It was right after I got my fellowship—the credential I’d been chasing for years like it held the keys to joy, freedom, and all the fun things Pinterest promised me.

I kept saying:

“Once I get my fellowship, I’ll get promoted.”

“Once I get my fellowship, I’ll finally chase my dreams.”

“Once I get my fellowship, I’ll travel, I’ll have fun, I’ll make new friends.”

Spoiler alert: I got the fellowship.

And… cue the existential buffering symbol.

Sure, I got promoted. But the hours I spent studying were simply rebranded into work meetings. Same exhaustion, just with more Outlook invites.

Yes, I technically had time to pursue my dreams.

But—minor issue—I had no idea what those dreams were anymore.

I’d spent so long hyper-fixated on the next milestone that I accidentally bulldozed my creativity, passion, and hobbies into the ground.

As for the travel and friendship fantasies?

Yeah… COVID kindly drop-kicked those off the calendar.

And that’s when the fog set in.

It’s funny—in your early 20s, life is full of gold-star milestones: graduate high school, finish uni, land your first job, move out, turn 21.

And then? The track disappears.

(Unless you’re on the engagement–wedding–baby pipeline… which, plot twist, isn’t a solo sport.)

So there I was—credentialed, employed, fully “successful”… and feeling like I’d been left unsupervised on a very boring, very silent treadmill.

Only recently did I realise what I was feeling back then:

I hadn’t run out of ambition.

I’d run out of ikigai.

And that, my friends, is how you end up crying over your salad in a food court, wondering if “career success” comes with a refund policy.

What I’m Spreading on This

One quote from the book smacked me in the face—gently, with elderly wisdom:

“There is no word for retirement in Okinawa.”

Life doesn’t pause once you’ve hit the milestone.

You’re supposed to keep going. Keep growing. Keep doing things that matter to you.

But no one tells you that drifting without purpose feels… like a beige death.

And unfortunately, I got a taste of that when I stepped away from work to care for family, to recalibrate, to figure things out.

On paper, it was noble.

In practice? It was boring.

No real structure. No finish lines to chase. Just endless unscheduled time and a creeping sense of invisibility.

And weirdly? That’s when I understood the perks of being a corporate drone.

You get to clock in, clock out, and trick yourself into believing you’re useful. You can outsource your sense of purpose to a job title and a calendar invite.

But creativity? That’s harder to fake.

It’s quieter. Less “important.” But way more fulfilling.

That’s why I’m writing again.

Not because it’s practical. But because it’s mine.

Maybe that’s what ikigai is. Not some perfect career plan, but a little thing you do that reminds you you’re still alive.

💬 Final Crumb

🌀 Success without meaning is still a kind of burnout

🎯 Structure helps, but purpose sustains

📝 Always have a dream—even a silly one. Don’t let life crush your creativity

Maybe the doctor wouldn’t call it progress.

But honestly? I’m happier now.

Sure, I’m not saving lives or crushing KPIs.

But I’m writing weird little blog posts and building something that feels like me.

And in a world that worships productivity, choosing creativity might just be the boldest thing I’ve done.