From late 2013 to the end of 2023, I was fortunate to have a life-changing experience working at one of the most highly regarded design companies of recent times, IDEO Tokyo. Over those 10 years, I collaborated with various companies, large and small, and worked alongside some of the best people I will ever meet. A year has passed since IDEO closed its doors in Japan, and as it did I felt a sense of panic, rushing to secure my next gig as quickly as possible in hopes of trying to forget how much it shook me. I did just that, lineup up a new opportunity to start the day after our little studio was no more, and for a while the distraction of investing into a new step worked. But, after a while, it stopped working, and the rush of negativity completely paralysed my patience, motivation, and love for what I do constantly. All I could think about was all the things I missed from that place that I may never get again, and after a lot of self introspection I think I’ve finally realised one of the most important quality of life needs that I always had at IDEO but never thought I’d lose.

What I didn’t realize at the time was how much I had taken for granted — the inspiration, the continuous learning, the career maturity, the creative freedom, and most importantly, the necessity of play.

At the studio, play was never about messing around or not doing work (Although, yes, we did spend a few hours hanging out in the office kitchen or playing foosball). Instead, it was a state of being that allowed for limitless creativity, a drive to try and learn new things, and to find joy in what we did. We never explicitly told our clients this, but everyone who came through our doors felt it — they wanted a piece of that energy. This element of play was so embedded in how we worked that to our clients, it just looked like work, and most had never experienced a workplace like it.

For me, working as a designer has always been like a hobby that I’m lucky enough to get employed for. IDEO was a playground of sorts where I had the freedom to shape my approach, my values, and my processes. Whether it was taking a post-it note on a foam core board and transforming it into a prototype or developing a narrative, I felt I could bring ideas to life in whatever way I could push myself to achieve. I recall a project designing a train navigation app where we were iterating rapidly, using prototypes in InVision. Yet, while the static prototypes were functional, they didn’t fully capture our ideas for user testing. My colleague Perujo and I decided to learn a new tool, (At the time) Facebook’s Origami Studio, to create interactive prototypes that would better convey our concepts. This wasn’t a client request; it was just something we felt was necessary to explore. We both spent time over our Christmas breaks diving into the tool, driven by our own curiosity and a desire to learn. The outcomes of the work were so much better off for that fun tangent.

What I’ve realized is for me, play was the work — a symbiotic relationship that allowed me to extend my capabilities in design. However, such work environments are rare. Often, "work is work" and "play is play," existing separately because they aren’t valued together. The challenge I’ve faced is recognizing that even if I’m in a more traditional work environment, I need to create moments of play for myself. I may have become too comfortable in the IDEO bubble, so when it burst, I was left in a state of shock and anxiety.

One surprising effect of this transition was that I lost the drive to continue working on my personal projects. For much of 2024, I barely touched anything I’d previously been passionate about. Even when busy, I had always managed to find time to tinker with ideas. The closure of IDEO sucked away my love for what had once been my hobby.

Play is essential, and it’s something I hadn’t managed to cultivate for myself for a long time. So how could I create more opportunities for it? First, I took a proper break—a long one. This gave me the headspace to process the closure of the Tokyo studio and reflect on what play means to me. Then, I leaned back on my rapid prototyping skills and revisited some old ideas gathering digital dust. Over the past few weeks, I’ve brought three mini apps to life using new tools, allowing me to learn, experiment, and make things I actually want to use.