You’ve heard of a gap year, haven’t you? A gap year is when a student takes a year off right after high school before they decide what the rest of their life is going to be all about. Best. Idea. Ever.

A gap year can be a liberating experience for any young person. It gives them a chance to spread their wings. It opens their mind to new possibilities and new experiences. Taking a gap year when you’re young allows you to travel and enjoy physical experiences when you’re in your prime. It looks good on your résumé, especially if you volunteered while you were on your gap year.

A gap year is a time where you’ll make new friends and connections. It’s a time to learn through direct experience. A gap year is an excellent opportunity to become a more well-rounded human being. How come only young people take gap years?

An Ikigap year is a concept that’s very similar to a regular gap year. There are a few additional considerations to work around, but the basic idea is the same. Harvard University encourages students to take a gap year before beginning their studies. There are many reasons why a student might choose to take a gap year. They include travel, new experiences, and gaining maturity before starting college. If it’s good for students to defer Harvard for a year to become more rounded, then why wouldn’t a gap year provide the same for you?

An Ikigap year is worthwhile for any grown-up who sees value in learning more about themselves. It’s a year of growth and new challenges. For one year, you allow yourself to be entirely yourself, to do whatever you want, and to go wherever you choose. Does that sound like something you would love to do?

The supreme benefit you’ll gain from an Ikigap year is time affluence. You’ll finally have the chance to do whatever you want to do with your time. Time affluence basically means you’re time-rich; you choose to prioritize your time over money. You do what you want with your time, instead of what you feel you are supposed to do with it. When most people think about retirement, they’re thinking about time affluence. In retirement, you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want. Isn’t that the essence of life after going to a job your whole life? You get to finally do whatever you want to do with your time. The problem with waiting for retirement to cash in on time affluence is that there’s a possibility you might also be experiencing health problems. My own father-in-law spent so much time looking forward to his retirement, so he could do whatever he wanted to with his time. A few months after he retired, he injured his back and was debilitated in one form or another for the rest of his life. Poor guy.

An Ikigap year gives you all the benefits of retirement, with the added bonus of good health. Dedicated time affluence for a whole year allows you to see the world in a whole new way. I know this firsthand.

In March of 2017, I made a decision that would affect my life forever. I decided to take an Ikigap year. At the time, I was Canada’s one and only national jazz radio host. I enjoyed a ten-year career at CBC Radio 2, but I felt it was time for a change. I fully realized that I had a great job, but I was growing stale. I had been poking my nose around to see if there was a chance to do some job crafting, but nothing seemed to stick. It was a challenge for me to grow at CBC when the only job I could do in the eyes of the management was to keep doing what I was doing. I was on a treadmill.

To have a hosting job at CBC is like having a paycheck for life. The network was an incredibly supportive broadcaster to work for. The environment at CBC Calgary, where I was located, was warm and inviting. The people working there are well-read, well-informed, and open-minded in their approach to work and life. I enjoyed warm friendships and daily chats with my CBC friends.

I had radio coaches that would go over scripts with me to work out kinks. They’d push me to perform better in supportive and effective ways. I liked my bosses there.

But when I asked for chances to experiment with new ideas outside of jazz, I felt my requests were met with confusion and resistance. I wanted to grow, but the options weren’t there. At fifty-one years old, I was at a crossroads. I could choose to continue with the safe and secure hosting life at CBC, or I could toss it all out the window and start all over again.

Through the preceding months, I had many conversations with my wife about the change. Yes, we lived a comfortable life with two abundant salaries. What would life look like with one salary for a while? Could we even make ends meet? My plan was to reduce my own imprint on our finances to the bare minimum. I insisted that I would cut all the fat from my lifestyle. She could continue to live in the way she was accustomed to. I cut. She continued. That was the deal. Plus, I had some savings that would be a buffer. My wife was supportive, but understandably concerned. But I had decided that growth and freedom was more important than security. I had decided that I would quit my cherished and secure job.

I set up a call with my team leaders at CBC to share my decision.

When we gathered on the phone line, we started with our usual gracious greetings and high fives. Then I took the reins of the call.
I told them that I would not be renewing my annual contract at CBC. I was choosing to try something new that I explained as Ikigai. I planned on finding a more meaningful me.

Their reaction was as expected. I believe they had anticipated my decision for some time. One sat in complete silence while the other replied with, “Well, first of all, holy f***! Second of all, good for you.” He shared the sentiment that ten years was a good time to put a bow on a cherished career. I would begin the process of departing from the airwaves. June 30, 2017 would be my last show.

The day came quickly. I was so excited to try on my new life, but I had no idea what my steps would be. My only intention was to seek out adventures and to say “yes” to any new and interesting opportunity that came my way. The year that followed was the most satisfying experience of my lifetime. The year was full of spectacular chances to explore and learn about myself.

There were many days when I sat on my ass and did nothing at all. Honestly, those were the toughest days because I knew I was in transition. I reminded myself that I needed to be patient, so I could see where these days would take me. Sometimes, they led me to watch to the craziness on CNN. Other times, the days took me out of the house to go for coffee with a friend or to meet someone new and interesting. I focused on having a little bit of joy every day.

I’d take a walk in the snow and stay in the moment with each step. On some days, I’d focus on making a nice healthy lunch. Other days, I’d take a drive out to my friend’s house to help them harvest honey. I was open to every experience that came my way. Every once in a while, though, there were days of incredible joy. They showed me my full Ikigai in technicolor.

There was a day when I was asked to be a host for a special event with legendary singer/songwriter Ian Tyson. It was on Canada’s 150th anniversary of Confederation. My Ikigai that day allowed me to host a sing-along with Ian of his 1963 hit song, originally sung with his former wife Sylvia Tyson. Their song, “Four Strong Winds,” has become an important Canadian song and ad hoc anthem for the province of Alberta. That day, seven hundred musicians brought their guitars, banjos, ukuleles, and basses down to Olympic Square in Calgary, and they strummed and sang along with Ian. It was a day full of joy and pride. He reminded me of my dad in so many ways. His gruff personality charmed me like a visit to the days of my upbringing in rural Alberta.

A few weeks later, my wife and I drove to Portland, Oregon. We had arranged a visit with our dear friends Jennifer and Carsten Seemann. Our goal was to witness the totality of the full eclipse during the third week of August, with our own eyes.

We woke up very early on the day of the eclipse. The plan was to get out of Portland and to drive south about an hour to a point where eclipse totality would be directly over us. We didn’t know what to expect on that day, in terms of traffic. It seemed like everyone we talked to was planning on driving south of Portland to see the eclipse just like we were.

We chose to travel the backroads that morning. The eclipse was expected to start its path to totality at around 10:15 a.m. Totality would come fifteen minutes later at 10:30. We meandered down narrow paved roads as far south as we could. As the clock passed 10:00 a.m., we thought we’d better find a place to stop as soon we could. Up ahead, we saw a farmer’s field with a bunch of cars parked. We turned in and joined them, quickly making friends with the others around us. One happened to be an astrologer. He had a ton of great insight about what was about to happen.

To witness a full solar eclipse is an out-of-body experience. The moon remains out of sight in the sky until it starts to drift in front of the sun. It looks as if there is a nibble taken out of the sun when the moon creeps in front it. People were screaming uncontrollably. Everyone wore special viewing goggles that protected their eyes from the sun. Over the next fifteen minutes, we witnessed one of the most uniquely special sights we had ever seen. The moon slowly dominated the sun, chewing away at its overwhelming brightness. The light where we stood seemed unchanged. Even a sliver of the sun gave off enough light to make the morning feel like normal. But then the moon slid directly in front of the sun.

A total eclipse of the sun is one of the most awe-inspiring experiences a person could ever have. You can’t accurately describe it in words. It’s as though there’s a black hole hanging in the sky, surrounded by a thin wedding ring giving off cosmic white rays of energy. It’s simply divine. The light on earth changes to a dull whitish grey. It feels like dusk, but not entirely the same. Most surprising, though, is the horizon. If you can pry your eyes off the eclipse and look any direction, there’s a 360-degree sunrise/sunset. Turn in any direction and you won’t believe your eyes. You feel like you are standing in an impossible time, somewhere between dawn and dusk. It’s bizarre and beautiful at the same time.

At that moment, everyone witnessing the eclipse was at peace. We were one. It was a satisfying thrill that happens too infrequently.
I adored the whole experience.

In September, I was invited as a lucky participant to travel on an icebreaker across the Northwest Passage on Canada’s north coast. The Canada C3 expedition was a 150-day journey that traveled from Toronto around all three of Canada’s coasts to finish its adventure in Victoria. I met my travel companions in Edmonton. We flew to Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, and then on to Kugluktuk, Nunavut. We met the crew and expedition staff there and began to explore.

We went through safety procedures needed to ride on the Zodiac boats that would take us out to the icebreaker. The Arctic Ocean is an unforgiving place. The water is deathly cold. We carefully boarded the Zodiacs and made our way out to the vessel, a decommissioned icebreaker that once was part of the Canadian Navy. Its official name is the Polar Prince.

The icebreaker is a fairly big ship. To board from the water, the crew used onboard cranes to lift a special set of metal stairs and hang it from the side. Once aboard, each of the participants would check in and make their way into the ship to explore. Our quarters were shared accommodations with bunk beds. My roommate, Patrick Dell, is a photographer and videographer for the Globe and Mail.

The next morning, we gathered for breakfast and a briefing about what the day would hold. We had a choice of two activities: a fourteen-kilometer hike to Bloody Falls, or an exploration of the tundra with botanist Paul Sokoloff. I chose the tundra.

The tundra is the most beautiful living thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a vibrant array of colors ranging from green to purple to red to white to brown to yellow. When I took a step off the gravel road we arrived on, I looked at down at my feet and saw more life than I had ever experienced. I fell to my knees in wonder. I got as low as I could. There were leaves and tiny pine-needled plants. I saw what looked like berries. “Hey Paul! Can I eat these?” I called out. Paul walked toward me and said, “Yes, you can! Those are crow berries.” The berries were a deep blackish purple and were surprisingly plump and juicy. I popped a few into my mouth and started to chew. They tasted tart and meaty like a dense muesli blueberry. I wondered if it was possible to make a crow berry pie. The seeds inside were coarse and hard. They had one of the most memorable flavors I had ever tasted. It was earthy and rugged.

I also ate mountain sorrel on the tundra that day. Imagine a tiny leaf that resembles rhubarb. The leaf I ate was no bigger than a baby fingernail. It had a crunch and an explosion of juice that defied explanation. It exploded in my mouth like a bite of watermelon.

I could write a whole book about the Canada C3 expedition. It was the most satisfying adventure of my lifetime. We learned about the north and the Inuit. We shared stories and songs. Most precious to me was the chance to learn about Canada’s First Nations and to make friends from a few of those nations. They taught us their point of view about reconciliation. We shook with empathy. The Canada C3 experience opened my heart to humanity at home in Canada.

In September, I traveled with my family to Japan. We visited Okinawa and dug our toes into the sands of Hamahiga Island, where my grandmother was born.

In January, I launched a one-man play.

When February arrived, we boarded another plane to make our way to the Dominican Republic. Our mission was to help build roofs on cement houses for families who needed them.

In April, I was invited to give a TED Talk at TEDxYYC. I chose to talk about Ikigai in a playful but informative manner. The name of that TED Talk is “How to Ikigai.” Check it out online at TED or on YouTube.

Lastly, in June, I began rehearsals for the Calgary Stampede Grandstand Show. I had been asked to play the part of host and singer for the show. It’s almost impossible to describe the scope of the Grandstand Show. It’s described as the largest outdoor show on earth. Each night, twenty thousand people gather to watch a variety show unlike any in history. It’s like the Olympic Games’ opening ceremonies for eleven nights in a row, with a cast of two hundred. Each show ends with a humongous fireworks display. My job (believe it or not) was to sing on a flying piano that rose eighty feet in the air over the top of the stage. The stage then turned into a massive fountain, à la the Bellagio fountains in Las Vegas, with fountains lit on fire.

There was no way of predicting any of the adventures that would come my way. I was open to anything: even failure. The ace that I had up my sleeve, though, was my past experience. I have had so many wonderful experiences throughout my life, so I felt confident that I would be okay. It feels like there is so much more to learn. I feel like I am a young man again about to go back to school.

That list of my experiences merely shows the highlights of my Ikigai year. What it doesn’t show is the dozens of days that I sat alone on a chair at my home pondering what steps to take next. Those alone days are bound to happen. They are an essential ingredient for thinking through next steps.

What I’m most proud of is that I studied self-actualization and Ikigai constantly throughout the year. My studies feel like I’ve been writing a thesis on happiness and meaning. I have discovered what my own Ikigai is. It’s to delight.

The reason I get up each morning is to delight. When I’m at the grocery store and I walk past people in the aisles, I can smile at them. At the checkout, I share a short and positive chat with the clerk. If I’m singing a song on a stage, I send delight out to the audience. When I’m filming a YouTube or Facebook video, my goal is to delight the viewers. Right now, as I am writing this book, my goal is to delight you. When I send delight out into the world, in fifty ways, every day, I get fifty gifts of delight returned back to me.

You have the same potential. You don’t have to quit your job to take an Ikigap year so you can discover it. You can keep on doing what you’re doing, but add more self-realization into your days. Studies show that it’s possible for this to have a significant impact on your overall happiness.

I’ve learned that the search for Ikigai is a tremendously enjoyable process. The discovery is the cherry on top. When you learn more and more about your natural capabilities and how they impact the world, it’s like getting a shot of happiness espresso. You’re boosted, and you stay that way until you learn more. Then you’re boosted again.

I believe that Ikigai and positive psychology work hand in hand to help build our raw potential into understandable reality. Whether you choose to take the steps to discover your Ikigai is up to you. To Ikigai or not to Ikigai, that is the question.

How to Take an Ikigap Year

If the notion of taking an Ikigap year is appealing to you, then you probably have a thousand questions. If you’re anything close to sane, you’ll have concerns as well.

As with anyone at any time of their life, the key to a year off is preparation. You have to be ready for it mentally and physically to make it your best year ever.

Start by saving up or putting money to the side that you can live on for the year. How much could you live on for one year? One hundred thousand dollars (seriously?)? Fifty thousand dollars (now you’re getting closer)? How about twenty-five thousand dollars (now that’s a noble goal)? You’ll need money for a roof over your head and food in your belly. That’s it. Forget the expensive sports car and the membership at the golf and country club. An Ikigap year is based on whatever you consider the bare minimum. The only must-have for the next year is you.

Plan your Ikigap year. Decide if you will you travel or stay close to home. Prepare for what you will you do in the next twelve months. Do your dreams. If you’ve always wanted to climb a mountain, make sure you get ‘er done. Search for things that inspire you and take part in them. Volunteer. Raise money for your favorite charity. Work with senior citizens. Go for coffee with people you don’t know. You understand what’s important in your life. If you don’t, then your Ikigap year is where you’ll figure it out.

Warning: You will have some days, perhaps many of them, where you’ll do nothing at all. Netflix and YouTube will be your constant companions. That’s okay. Use those days to rest yourself fully. An Ikigap year is not a year of boundless energy.
It’s a year of self-reflection. Meditate. Go for walks. Make sure you get out of the house to spend time with people you love.

If you plan on traveling, ensure that you’re not traveling just to see things. Instead, travel to enjoy other people. Every destination you go to has the potential for a new friend. Travel is best when you wrap yourself in the community you’re visiting. Spend time with the locals. Make a friend or two. The greatest travel experiences in the world come from the locals who befriend you and show you around.

Travel frugally. Forget about the five-star resorts that have every amenity on earth to make you comfortable. Opt for a bed to lay your head on and a Wi-Fi connection. Choose uncomfortable digs, so you are eager to get out of the hotel to explore.

Reflect daily about what you’re enjoying about your gap year. Appreciate the moments as they come and cherish your good fortune. Keep notes about what you are learning.

If gap years are worthwhile and life-changing for students, then they are just as beneficial for grown-ups. The one advantage you have over a young person’s gap year is wisdom. You’ll learn more about yourself during your gap year than any other year of your life.

A question you might want to keep handy during your gap year is, “What do I have to show for the last year of my life?” For someone in normal life, that question might be incredibly hard to answer. For the person in an Ikigap year, the question will be an inspiration, not only to you but to others.

The benefits you’ll receive from the year will be immeasurable. This is a short list, but they include:

•You’ll reconnect with yourself. The day-to-day stresses of life pull you away from things that matter to you. When was the last time you didn’t have time to exercise or to go on a holiday because you were too busy? A gap year will give you all the time you need to get back to the important work of being you.

•You’ll discover new passions or expand on ones you already have. What have you always wanted the time to do in your life? Hopefully, you’re not waiting until retirement to take up golf or painting. Your Ikigai relies on you being in the moment as often as possible. Your Ikigap year will give you the time to explore and expand on the good stuff about life.

•You’ll reboot and refresh. Just like that infuriating computer you toil on every day, your heart and soul can afford a reboot as well. When you take a vacation, you reboot. But when you take an Ikigap year, you not only get a reboot, you get a new operating system that is far superior to the old one.

•You’ll dream. Dreams are not better when you wait to fulfill them. Dreams are best realized when they are fresh in your mind and you’re young enough to do them. Dreams don’t have to be elaborate and expensive. They can be cheap and simple, too. No matter what, your dreams are meant to come true. They will fulfill you. Think of all the dreams you could accomplish with a whole year to yourself.

•You’ll have something to talk about. How many times have you seen someone you know and asked them, “So, what’s new with you?” The most depressing answer in the world is usually coming your way. You asked for it. When they answer, “Same old, same old,” it’s your own damn fault for asking. When you are on your Ikigap year, you’ll have the best answer ever. Tell the world you’re on a year off to make life more meaningful. They’ll have a million questions, and you can share all the details with them. They’ll want to take their own Ikigap year, thanks to you.

This will be your year to improve yourself. Your Ikigap year starts with half Ikigai. Do what you love and do what you’re good at. A whole year of just that is the prescription for the best year ever. Imagine all the insights you’ll gain about yourself.

Clarity. You’ll work on your own clarity in life. It’s about time you figure out what’s important to you, isn’t it? With 365 days at your disposal, clarity is easily within reach (especially if you include meditation. See Chapter Eleven).

Your Ikigap year will make you more financially responsible. Without income, or with reduced income (take a deep breath), your way of looking at money will change. You’ll begin to see the value of experiences versus things. Your wants and needs will lessen. You might even purge a whole bunch of stuff you already have because you’ll realize you don’t need it.

Benefits aside, an Ikigap year is a way to discover your own Ikigai. By putting your full attention on your life’s worth, you’ll be investing in a lifetime of Ikigai.

By the end of your Ikigap year, you’ll have experienced what it’s like to be more you. It’s a powerful feeling to know what your life’s worth is. You’ll want to implement it into your life on a regular basis.