Preface

During my mid to late twenties, I grappled with an existential dilemma: If I am to truly exist as a human being and become who I am meant to be, I must take the risk of breaking free from the ideological systems that have shaped my existence—systems that told me how to think, who I was, and how I should live.

I lived and worked in Japan on three separate occasions over the span of seven years, from my early to late twenties. During my first time there, I took a one-year break from my university studies to travel to Japan and experience the work of a student missionary. I lived in Nishinomiya and worked in Osaka, where I taught English conversation and Bible classes.

I valued my first experience in Japan as a student missionary so deeply that it transformed me into a religious optimist. I became fully immersed in the system of a particular Christian organization, drawn to its sense of purpose and its mission to make a meaningful difference in people’s lives.

My assimilation into the system was so profound that, upon returning to the United States, I took two significant steps at my university. First, I began pursuing a bachelor's degree in religious studies, eager to deepen my understanding of the subjects I had taught in Japan. Second, I initiated a community outreach program for the homeless, motivated by a desire to better understand their struggles and explore what I could—and couldn’t—do to make a meaningful difference.

Two years later, I graduated with a degree in religious studies. A few months after that, I enrolled in a graduate program in religious education, intending to teach religion within the school system of that particular Christian denomination. However, the following year, I became disillusioned with the program. Just as I was questioning my path, I received an invitation to return to Japan. I decided to leave the graduate program behind and flew back for a second time, drawn by the value of my first experience and the mission that still called to me.

April 1988 in Tokyo marked a defining moment in my life, the beginning of a profound shift that would ultimately lead me to break away from the organization’s system a year later. This period of transition prompted deep reflection on my experiences, and by the following year, I began writing what would become Reflections on Growth.

We cannot fully separate ourselves from an ideological system. Employers, for example, are part of a system that provides employees with the essential means of survival. To illustrate this, consider the first three levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. The first level addresses physiological needs: food, water, shelter, and sleep. The second level focuses on safety needs: security, employment, resources, and health. The third level pertains to love and belonging needs: friendship, intimacy, family, and social connections.

When an employer and an employee share a close friendship outside the workplace, the employee might feel a dual sense of obligation—not only to the business but also to the individual owner. This connection can blur the lines between the person and the system, causing the employee to become increasingly assimilated into the owner's identity. Over time, this can lead to a sense of losing oneself, even slipping into a state of “nothingness.” Similarly, anyone can fall into this nothingness simply by following an influencer or becoming part of a social group, often without even realizing it.

I began by questioning the very system that had shaped and absorbed me. In search of understanding, I turned to philosophy, diving into works like Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics, Nietzsche’s Ecce Homo, and Adler’s Great Ideas. I immersed myself in their ideas, hoping to uncover the reasons behind my experiences and, more importantly, to find what I could change in myself.

I sent letters of discontent to the representatives of the organization, directly confronting them with my concerns. In these letters, I proposed ideas for reform, hoping to improve the system for the benefit of my colleagues. A few months later, as a result of my actions, I was asked to leave both my position and Japan.

Social systems often lack a focus on personal growth and the cultivation of authenticity. According to Maslow, the fourth and fifth levels of his hierarchy of needs are esteem and self-actualization. Esteem needs include respect, self-worth, recognition, and freedom. Self-actualization, on the other hand, is about realizing one’s full potential—expressed through simplicity, autonomy, richness, and a deep sense of aliveness.

I flew to Montana, where I stayed with my grandmother in Missoula and worked two jobs. It was the beginning of my journey toward self-discovery. During this time, I reflected on my mental and spiritual well-being, engaging deeply with my inner self. I wrote introspective essays about my personal state and the shifting state of the world around me. Through this process, I developed a deeper appreciation for myself, for others, and for the world. I also continued to send letters to the representatives of the organization in Japan, expressing my dissatisfaction and calling for change. After six months, I left Montana and moved to Oregon.

I drove to Portland and stayed with my father for a couple of weeks until I sold my car. Once it was gone, I bought a one-way ticket back to Japan. I packed my philosophy books, typewriter, a bowling ball, and a set of dress clothes. This third time to Japan was meant to be long-term—an opportunity not just to teach English conversation, but, more importantly, to study, observe, write, travel, and exercise.

After a couple of weeks in Japan, I began working for a company in Chiba, putting in 20 hours a week and living comfortably. In my free time, I read the newspaper, studied philosophy, and wrote essays and letters. As Nietzsche put it, I felt “fearless.” I found myself facing a “great health”—a vast, unexplored territory filled with perspectives on what is beautiful, strange, unsettling, terrible, and divine.

While it’s impossible to fully detach ourselves from an ideological system, we can become aware of how such systems can stifle our growth and limit the potential of our existence. By recognizing this, we have the power to change what is necessary to awaken our conscious, autonomous selves—free from the constraints of collective identity. Instead of conforming to the norm, consuming everything around us, and blending in with the masses, we can nurture our true self by creating something meaningful and living as a free spirit.

I wrote these reflective essays thirty-five years ago, before the rise of the Internet, Google, and social media, compiling them into Reflections on Growth. Since then, they have been revised for this book. My way of life has changed little since I wrote these essays. I am still reading, still writing, still learning, and still thinking.

Writing and organizing the Afterword took me two years. To broaden my knowledge in areas where I was lacking, I delved into a variety of fields in addition to philosophical, religious, and biblical studies: depth psychology, social psychology, the history of early colonial America, biomedical ethics of human enhancement, cognitive neuroscience, and the ethics of artificial intelligence.

This journey has been one of personal growth, while reflecting on my experiences, which has, in turn, strengthened my sense of self. My hope is that by reading these Reflections, the reader may also embark on their own journey of self-exploration, discovering and strengthening their true, authentic self.

Introduction

Every individual finds themselves in an existential situation, whether they are aware of it or not, which either challenges or enhances their true authentic self and the meaning of their life.

The term “existential” in existential philosophy refers to the human existence and the lived experience of being in an often absurd or indifferent world. It emphasizes individual choices, freedom, responsibility, and authenticity.

The core tenet of existential philosophy is that I first exist, confront myself, and emerge into the world. Only then do I assign an essence to my being, shaping the meaning of my existence defined through my actions and choices. In short, I create my own identity. This is the meaning of “existence precedes essence.” No one and nothing dictates who or how I should be. Each human situation is unique, offering the opportunity and challenge to act and define myself.

To exist is to live through my intentional actions, not merely as one individual among many, but as the individual—my true, authentic self—engaging with others and being in the world. Human beings who consciously embrace their individuality are the ones who create values and shape meaning in their lives.

A truly free individual refuses to be absorbed into any system or defined merely by belonging to a group. Instead, they turn inward and reflect, using each unique situation to define and reaffirm their authentic self. For them, personal growth and well-being take precedence over conforming to an ideological system. By shaping their identity through actions, they foster mental, physical, social, psychological, and spiritual growth, broadening their perspective and continuously advancing toward greater development.

Learning Promotes Personal Growth

In his The Advancement of Learning (1605), English philosopher Francis Bacon outlines several key benefits of genuine learning. These are presented below in the order in which they appear in his text.

First, learning safeguards humans from ignorance and error. Second, learning is health for the mind as exercise is health for the body. Third, learning is an activity that is pleasurable in and of itself. Fourth, learning makes the mind gentle, generous, and flexible, whereas ignorance makes it rude, decay, and defiant.

Fifth, learning applies knowledge to human mannerisms to be beneficial for reward and comfort. Sixth, learning ministers to all the diseases of the mind, providing healing and remedies. Seventh, learning prevents the mind from becoming fixed or rigid, allowing it to remain open to growth and transformation. Eighth, learning helps a person to grow into a better and more thoughtful human being each day.

The seventh benefit leads directly to the eighth, which is the ultimate goal of learning. A sense of dissatisfaction with current knowledge, paired with an openness to new perspectives, allows the mind to shift and gain fresh insights. In this way, learning, in its patient pursuit of knowledge, remains flexible and open to revision as new insights arise from experience. By maintaining an open mind, learning allows knowledge to evolve and deepen, helping a person grow into a more thoughtful human being each day.

Knowledge is Power

In his 1620 work Novum Organum, also known as The New Instrument for Understanding Nature, Bacon asserts that “knowledge and human power are synonymous.” He further notes, “[W]hile we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind, we do not search for its real helps. The subtilty [or the fineness of perception] of nature is far beyond that of [human] sense or of the understanding.”

Bacon argues that grasping the true essence of nature or reality is beyond the capacity of the human mind. When humans interpret nature, they do so from the perspective of the “human mind,” which leads to distorted interpretations that are falsely presented as deriving directly from nature. In this way, humans replace what is truly natural with what is unnatural to them, creating misconceptions and false notions of knowledge, which are then mistakenly accepted as true knowledge…