I don't set goals. Like, that's what I want to be doing however

The artist Ayumi Hamasaki once said: “I don’t set goals. Like, that’s what I want to be doing however many years from now. I do what I love to do at the moment. If I wake up tomorrow and decide I want to dance, that’s what I’d do. Or design clothes.” These words shimmer with the quiet radiance of one who has walked through fame and solitude and discovered that the truest freedom lies not in ambition, but in authenticity. In her statement, there is rebellion—against the tyranny of fixed plans, against the illusion that the future must be mapped before it arrives. She speaks as the ancients once did: urging us to live not as architects of destiny, but as travelers of the present.

To set goals is to declare war upon uncertainty, to build fences around time. And yet, life is a river, not a road. The wise do not chain it; they listen to its current. Ayumi’s wisdom lies in her trust in spontaneity, in the sacred moment of “now.” She does not reject purpose—she rejects the presumption that purpose must always be preordained. The ancients called this wu wei, effortless action, in which the self moves in harmony with the unfolding of the world. Like a dancer who feels the rhythm before she counts the beat, Ayumi acts not by plan, but by passion.

There is an echo of this philosophy in the life of Leonardo da Vinci, the man of a thousand callings. He painted when the muse took him, sculpted when the spirit stirred, designed when curiosity burned. He began many works and finished few, yet each fragment was a miracle of insight. His greatness did not come from discipline alone, but from wonder—from allowing his soul to roam unchained through the meadows of possibility. Had he bound himself to goals, we might never have known the Mona Lisa’s smile, born not of ambition, but of exploration.

Ayumi’s words also carry a hidden defiance against the world’s obsession with productivity. In the modern age, where calendars rule and success is measured by milestones, her voice rises like a clear bell: do not lose the joy of being in the chase for becoming. For what use is reaching the mountain’s peak if one forgets the song of the wind along the path? She teaches that fulfillment comes not from the grand achievement of distant goals, but from the small, radiant acts of creation that arise from love—the song sung today, the step danced tonight, the dream woven at dawn.

This way of living requires courage, for it means trusting the self more than society. The world praises those who plan, who pursue, who predict. Yet, the spirit that dares to flow with the seasons, to change shape as freely as the clouds, is closer to truth. The samurai of old spoke of this: that one must live each day as if it were eternity, ready to die fulfilled, for the purpose of life is not distant—it is ever-present. Ayumi’s way is that of the artist-warrior: disciplined not by structure, but by devotion to love in the moment.

The lesson is thus: live deliberately, but not rigidly. Let passion, not pressure, guide your days. Awaken each morning and ask not what the world expects, but what your heart longs to create. If today you wish to write, then write. If tomorrow you wish to dance, then dance. The future will weave itself from the threads of your sincerity. The flame of purpose burns brightest when it is fed by the air of freedom.

And so, to all who seek meaning—heed the wisdom of Ayumi Hamasaki. Do not carve your destiny in stone; let it bloom like a garden, changing with the seasons. For life is not a ladder to climb, but a song to be sung anew each day. Do what you love at the moment, and the divine rhythm of existence will carry you where you are meant to go.