Garden Of Wisdom: What I learnt From A Japanese Businessman
In the past year, my passport collected an impressive series of stamps, each signifying a journey to the Land of the Rising Sun. Business brought me to Japan frequently, as I found myself wrapped in intense negotiations to acquire a company from a venerable and seasoned Japanese firm. Its chairman, a nonagenarian whose sharp mind and unwavering determination belied his age, stood as an imposing figure that I needed to impress.
The modesty and humility of the office stood in stark contrast to the chairman’s influence and reputation. Hiroshi-san, not his real name, and his genial smile welcomed me with an unexpected warmth. As the days turned into weeks, our negotiations were thorough and intense. Each meeting was like a game of shogi, requiring strategic moves and careful deliberations.
To gain Hiroshi-san’s trust, I needed to prove not only my capability but also my respect for the values that had sustained his company for decades. Impressive presentations and articulate business cases had their place, but these alone would not suffice. It soon became clear that to truly connect, I needed to step into his world, to understand the man behind the business titan.
One afternoon, after yet another rigorous negotiation session, Hiroshi-san invited me to his home. I accepted with the hopes that this would be the moment to solidify our burgeoning respect. To my surprise, his home was a traditional Japanese abode with a sprawling, immaculately kept garden that looked like it could have been plucked from a ukiyo-e painting.
Here, amidst the meticulously pruned bonsai, the gentle trickle of a koi pond, and the vibrant swath of seasonal blooms, Hiroshi-san revealed a different facet of his life. He was an avid gardener, and it was in this verdant sanctuary that he found solace and quietude. I watched as he tenderly cared for each plant, his hands moving with an elegance that spoke of years of practice and a deep-seated passion.
Initially, I couldn’t fathom why the chairman, who could have easily delegated such tasks, chose to spend his time gardening. As our interactions deepened, Hiroshi-san began to share stories of his youth, the rise of his company, and the challenges he had faced. It was during one of these heartfelt conversations that he divulged the essence of his gardening.
“Every job, no matter how demanding, requires one to step back at times,” he said, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. “This garden, to me, is not just a hobby; it is a refuge, a space where I can reflect and find balance. It teaches patience, dedication, and the beauty of slow, deliberate growth.”
His words were reminiscent of the teachings of Japanese philosophy, particularly those associated with Zen Buddhism. The concept of wabi-sabi—finding beauty in imperfection and transience—resonated deeply in his garden. Each blossom, each stone, was a reminder of the impermanence of life and the acceptance of its natural cycle.
Hiroshi-san’s approach reminded me of my reading of the philosopher Michel de Montaigne, who advocated for the importance of leisure and personal reflection. Montaigne once wrote, “A man who fears suffering is already suffering from what he fears.” The garden, for Hiroshi-san, was a sanctuary where the inevitable sufferings and challenges of business could be transformed into a meditative practice of care and attentiveness.
My time in that garden became a turning point, a space where not only business relationships but human connections were cultivated. I began to understand that beyond the pursuit of success and ambition, there lay a profound need for balance and personal growth. The lessons from Hiroshi-san extended beyond the borders of the garden; they permeated into my professional life, influencing my perspective on leadership and decision-making.
By the time we concluded the business deal, I had earned Hiroshi-san’s trust not just through business acumen but through a shared understanding of life’s deeper values, through philosophy. I left Japan with more than a successful merger; I carried with me the wisdom of a 90-year-old gardener who taught me that in the relentless pursuit of professional success, it is vital to find moments of tranquility and personal joy.
Now, back in my world of bustling meetings and high-stakes decisions, I often take a moment to reflect on Hiroshi-san’s teachings. I have started my own small garden, a modest tribute to the lessons I’ve learnt. In those quiet moments, as I tend to my plants, I am reminded that true fulfilment comes not only from professional achievements but from finding balance, embracing simplicity, and nurturing the soul.
