Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 22, 2012:
By considering the magnitude of the punishment suffered by those who harbor enmity toward the Lotus Sutra, we can understand the magnitude of the benefits obtained by devoting oneself to it.
Reply to Jibu-bo
Written to Jibu-bo on August 22, 1281
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Object of Devotion for Observing the Mind Established in the Fifth Five-Hundred-Year Period after the Thus Come One's Passing
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 21, 2012:
T'ien-t'ai states, "By observing the fury of the rain, we can tell the greatness of the dragon that caused it, and by observing the flourishing of the lotus flowers, we can tell the depth of the pond they grow in." Miao-lo says, "Wise men can perceive the cause of things, as snakes know the way of snakes." When the skies are clear, the ground is illuminated. Similarly, when one knows the Lotus Sutra, one understands the meaning of all worldly affairs.
The Object of Devotion for Observing the Mind Established in the Fifth Five-Hundred-Year Period after the Thus Come One's Passing
Written to Toki Jonin on April 25, 1273
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 21, 2012:
T'ien-t'ai states, "By observing the fury of the rain, we can tell the greatness of the dragon that caused it, and by observing the flourishing of the lotus flowers, we can tell the depth of the pond they grow in." Miao-lo says, "Wise men can perceive the cause of things, as snakes know the way of snakes." When the skies are clear, the ground is illuminated. Similarly, when one knows the Lotus Sutra, one understands the meaning of all worldly affairs.
The Object of Devotion for Observing the Mind Established in the Fifth Five-Hundred-Year Period after the Thus Come One's Passing
Written to Toki Jonin on April 25, 1273
The Three Kinds of Treasure
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 20, 2012:
And do not go around lamenting to others how hard it is for you to live in this world. To do so is an act utterly unbecoming to a worthy man.
The Three Kinds of Treasure
Written to Shijo Kingo on September 11, 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 20, 2012:
And do not go around lamenting to others how hard it is for you to live in this world. To do so is an act utterly unbecoming to a worthy man.
The Three Kinds of Treasure
Written to Shijo Kingo on September 11, 1277
Friday, March 30, 2012
The Wealthy Man Sudatta
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 19, 2012:
During [Sudatta's] last period of poverty, when all the people had fled or perished and only he and his wife remained, they had five measures of rice that would nourish them for five days. At that time, five people—Mahakashyapa, Shariputra, Ananda, Rahula and Shakyamuni Buddha—came one after another to beg for the five measures of rice, which Sudatta gave them. From that day on, Sudatta was the wealthiest man in all India, and he built the Jetavana Monastery. From this, you should understand all things.
The Wealthy Man Sudatta
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on December 27, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 19, 2012:
During [Sudatta's] last period of poverty, when all the people had fled or perished and only he and his wife remained, they had five measures of rice that would nourish them for five days. At that time, five people—Mahakashyapa, Shariputra, Ananda, Rahula and Shakyamuni Buddha—came one after another to beg for the five measures of rice, which Sudatta gave them. From that day on, Sudatta was the wealthiest man in all India, and he built the Jetavana Monastery. From this, you should understand all things.
The Wealthy Man Sudatta
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on December 27, 1280
The Treasure of a Filial Child
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 18, 2012:
People have varied tastes. Some prefer good and some prefer evil. There are many kinds of people. But though they differ from one another in such ways, once they enter into the Lotus Sutra, they all become like a single person in body and a single person in mind. This is just like the myriad different rivers that, when they flow into the ocean, all take on a uniformly salty flavor, or like the many kinds of birds that, when they approach Mount Sumeru, all assume the same [golden] hue.
The Treasure of a Filial Child
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on July 2, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 18, 2012:
People have varied tastes. Some prefer good and some prefer evil. There are many kinds of people. But though they differ from one another in such ways, once they enter into the Lotus Sutra, they all become like a single person in body and a single person in mind. This is just like the myriad different rivers that, when they flow into the ocean, all take on a uniformly salty flavor, or like the many kinds of birds that, when they approach Mount Sumeru, all assume the same [golden] hue.
The Treasure of a Filial Child
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on July 2, 1280
Thursday, March 29, 2012
King Rinda
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 17, 2012:
Rice is what sustains life. It is like the oil that sustains the life of the lamp. The Lotus Sutra is a lamp, and its votary is the oil that sustains it. Or again, the lay supporters are the oil that sustains the lamp of the votary.
King Rinda
Written to Soya Doso on August 17, 1279
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 17, 2012:
Rice is what sustains life. It is like the oil that sustains the life of the lamp. The Lotus Sutra is a lamp, and its votary is the oil that sustains it. Or again, the lay supporters are the oil that sustains the lamp of the votary.
King Rinda
Written to Soya Doso on August 17, 1279
The Good Medicine for All Ills
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 16, 2012:
A person's death is not determined by illness. In our own time, the people of Iki and Tsushima, though not suffering from illness, were slaughtered in an instant by the Mongols. It is not certain that, because one is ill, one will die. And could not this illness of your husband's be the Buddha's design, because the Vimalakirti and Nirvana sutras both teach that sick people will surely attain Buddhahood? Illness gives rise to the resolve to attain the way.
The Good Medicine for All Ills
Written to the lay nun Myoshin on August 16, probably in 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 16, 2012:
A person's death is not determined by illness. In our own time, the people of Iki and Tsushima, though not suffering from illness, were slaughtered in an instant by the Mongols. It is not certain that, because one is ill, one will die. And could not this illness of your husband's be the Buddha's design, because the Vimalakirti and Nirvana sutras both teach that sick people will surely attain Buddhahood? Illness gives rise to the resolve to attain the way.
The Good Medicine for All Ills
Written to the lay nun Myoshin on August 16, probably in 1278
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Reply to Kyo'o
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 15, 2012:
I, Nichiren, have inscribed my life in sumi ink, so believe in the Gohonzon with your whole heart. The Buddha's will is the Lotus Sutra, but the soul of Nichiren is nothing other than Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
Reply to Kyo'o
Written to Kyo'o and her parents, Nichigen-nyo and Shijo Kingo, on August 15, 1273
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 15, 2012:
I, Nichiren, have inscribed my life in sumi ink, so believe in the Gohonzon with your whole heart. The Buddha's will is the Lotus Sutra, but the soul of Nichiren is nothing other than Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.
Reply to Kyo'o
Written to Kyo'o and her parents, Nichigen-nyo and Shijo Kingo, on August 15, 1273
White Horses and White Swans
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 14, 2012:
Let us openly and clearly outline the virtues of Myoho-renge-kyo! Just as poisonous compounds are changed into medicine, so these five characters of Myoho-renge-kyo change evil into good.
White Horses and White Swans
Written to the lady of Utubusa on August 14, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 14, 2012:
Let us openly and clearly outline the virtues of Myoho-renge-kyo! Just as poisonous compounds are changed into medicine, so these five characters of Myoho-renge-kyo change evil into good.
White Horses and White Swans
Written to the lady of Utubusa on August 14, 1280
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Happiness in This World
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 13, 2012:
Could "enjoy themselves at ease" mean anything but that both our bodies and minds, lives and environments, are entities of three thousand realms in a single moment of life and Buddhas of limitless joy? There is no true happiness other than upholding faith in the Lotus Sutra. This is what is meant by "peace and security in their present existence and good circumstances in future existences."
Happiness in This World
Written to Shijo Kingo on June 27, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 13, 2012:
Could "enjoy themselves at ease" mean anything but that both our bodies and minds, lives and environments, are entities of three thousand realms in a single moment of life and Buddhas of limitless joy? There is no true happiness other than upholding faith in the Lotus Sutra. This is what is meant by "peace and security in their present existence and good circumstances in future existences."
Happiness in This World
Written to Shijo Kingo on June 27, 1276
The Izu Exile
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 12, 2012:
What caused you to inwardly believe in the Lotus Sutra and to make offerings to me during my more than thirty-day stay there? I was hated and resented by the steward and the people of the district even more than I was in Kamakura. Those who saw me scowled, while those who merely heard my name were filled with spite. And yet, though I was there in the fifth month when rice was scarce, you secretly fed me. Have my parents been reborn in a place called Kawana, in Ito of Izu Province?
The Izu Exile
Written to Funamori Yasaburo on June 27, 1261
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 12, 2012:
What caused you to inwardly believe in the Lotus Sutra and to make offerings to me during my more than thirty-day stay there? I was hated and resented by the steward and the people of the district even more than I was in Kamakura. Those who saw me scowled, while those who merely heard my name were filled with spite. And yet, though I was there in the fifth month when rice was scarce, you secretly fed me. Have my parents been reborn in a place called Kawana, in Ito of Izu Province?
The Izu Exile
Written to Funamori Yasaburo on June 27, 1261
Monday, March 26, 2012
Unleashing Your Inner Power
Spiritual Story by Jen Blackert
Have you ever felt like you were taught to hide or attack your problems instead of looking to your highest self for direction?
We spend too much time on the small details of daily life and not enough time looking at our future vision and inner viewpoint. The truth is I spent much of my late teens and early adulthood in a state of restless anxiety. It seemed as if I was always chasing something, trying to get something or being someone else or somewhere else.
Eventually, I did get what I desired, whatever it was that I was chasing. Family members would point out I was lucky, or that I could turn any bag of thorns into a bouquet of roses.
Yet, I still wasn't happy...
Yes, there were moments of exhilaration when I knew I was going to get what I had been working for, but there was little true happiness.
In 1997, I began to practice yoga regularly at a local gym. I started attending class during work lunch breaks. Hah, I had used yoga mostly as a way to take longer lunch breaks and escape the daily grind. For me, the hardest part of yoga was final rest. Now, I know that it was difficult because on some level, I feared knowing myself on a deeper level. I didn't really like myself. I was afraid of my other self? Who was this other self? I am just one person. Aren't I?
I realized yoga had become an escape from my dual self. Or should I say my dueling self? Yoga was escape from this "other" voice, this negative self-defeating voice in my head. Hah, while other people choose the use of drugs or alcohol, not me, I chose yoga as my drug of choice. Thankfully, it has awakened me to a life of inspiration, consciousness, and flow.
By 2005, I chose to end my corporate career. By the time I left, I was miserable yet still felt trapped by a high paying salary and absolutely zero respect whatsoever. I was tortured with thoughts, "How could I possibly leave such a high paying job? I can't make this kind of money doing anything else." Who was I to tell myself this?
I told myself, "I can't." No one who loved me would tell me such nonsense, whether they thought it or not. Where did I get such ideas? Maybe I didn't love myself. At a minimum, I was verbally abusive to myself. Who had I become? I, of course, didn't realize this until much later.
And then magic started to happen.
One Saturday in March of 2005, I received a phone call from a man in Arizona. At the time we didn't have a cable phone or caller ID or who knows if I would have even answered the line. My number was not available. The man asked if there was a person who practiced transcendental meditation in our home.
I said, "No, but I am very spiritual and I practice and teach yoga." He then, asked if it was Kundalini yoga and again I said, "No. I practice Vinyasa and Ashtanga yoga." I was starting to get a little defensive and agitated with his questions. Who was this guy and was he questioning me?
I began thinking that it was some kind of joke or perhaps he had found my name on some yoga list. Finally, I asked who he was and why he was calling. He said he was a TMer. At the time, I had no idea what a TMer was. He explained that TM stands for Transcendental Meditation.
It's not a religion or philosophy and it can be practiced by anyone looking to experience more mental clarity or reduce stress. I understood it as a form of meditation, but nothing more. He told me that during meditation he saw my number and had a strong sense that I needed to know that the universe was in support of my new direction.
The next week I spent a week practicing yoga at a spiritual retreat center. After each day of practice we wrote about our experiences. After a few hours of intense yoga we would journal about a given topic or our "after-yoga" thoughts.
My journal entries included random statements such as... "We die in the comfort zone. Step out of your comfort zone. There is peace with truth. There is no peace with self-doubt. Life is full of options. We must have the courage to face the truth." I remember crying because at the time I wasn't following my true path and I felt miserable because of it.
The Monday after the retreat, I wandered back into my corporate office refreshed and relaxed. Then I thought, "What am I doing here? Is this just a pay check for me?"� I knew a job like mine was a dream job for others, but why couldn't I just be thankful for what I had? I made it through the day and cried to my husband about my miserable job that night. He had some inspiring wisdom.
He asked, "How will your life change if you leave this job?
My job will support our current living behaviors until you get up to speed with your own business. You will still have your computer, cable T.V. and your car. Your life won't change. I want you to be happy." It seemed so simple to him, but to me it was huge.
By the end of the day on Tuesday, my hard drive crashed -- not the hard drive of my brain, but my computer's hard drive. I would joke to co-workers, "Do you think God is telling me something?"
Many would just giggle, but one man said very seriously, "Yes! You have all this talent waiting to be let out. What are you doing here? What are you waiting for?" These words stuck with me. What was I waiting for?
Why was I holding on to a job that I disliked? Why was I torturing myself? This is my life!
Like all life journeys you must start by opening your eyes to God's awareness. Patanjali wrote, "When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world."
Live it now.
Have you ever felt like you were taught to hide or attack your problems instead of looking to your highest self for direction?
We spend too much time on the small details of daily life and not enough time looking at our future vision and inner viewpoint. The truth is I spent much of my late teens and early adulthood in a state of restless anxiety. It seemed as if I was always chasing something, trying to get something or being someone else or somewhere else.
Eventually, I did get what I desired, whatever it was that I was chasing. Family members would point out I was lucky, or that I could turn any bag of thorns into a bouquet of roses.
Yet, I still wasn't happy...
Yes, there were moments of exhilaration when I knew I was going to get what I had been working for, but there was little true happiness.
In 1997, I began to practice yoga regularly at a local gym. I started attending class during work lunch breaks. Hah, I had used yoga mostly as a way to take longer lunch breaks and escape the daily grind. For me, the hardest part of yoga was final rest. Now, I know that it was difficult because on some level, I feared knowing myself on a deeper level. I didn't really like myself. I was afraid of my other self? Who was this other self? I am just one person. Aren't I?
I realized yoga had become an escape from my dual self. Or should I say my dueling self? Yoga was escape from this "other" voice, this negative self-defeating voice in my head. Hah, while other people choose the use of drugs or alcohol, not me, I chose yoga as my drug of choice. Thankfully, it has awakened me to a life of inspiration, consciousness, and flow.
By 2005, I chose to end my corporate career. By the time I left, I was miserable yet still felt trapped by a high paying salary and absolutely zero respect whatsoever. I was tortured with thoughts, "How could I possibly leave such a high paying job? I can't make this kind of money doing anything else." Who was I to tell myself this?
I told myself, "I can't." No one who loved me would tell me such nonsense, whether they thought it or not. Where did I get such ideas? Maybe I didn't love myself. At a minimum, I was verbally abusive to myself. Who had I become? I, of course, didn't realize this until much later.
And then magic started to happen.
One Saturday in March of 2005, I received a phone call from a man in Arizona. At the time we didn't have a cable phone or caller ID or who knows if I would have even answered the line. My number was not available. The man asked if there was a person who practiced transcendental meditation in our home.
I said, "No, but I am very spiritual and I practice and teach yoga." He then, asked if it was Kundalini yoga and again I said, "No. I practice Vinyasa and Ashtanga yoga." I was starting to get a little defensive and agitated with his questions. Who was this guy and was he questioning me?
I began thinking that it was some kind of joke or perhaps he had found my name on some yoga list. Finally, I asked who he was and why he was calling. He said he was a TMer. At the time, I had no idea what a TMer was. He explained that TM stands for Transcendental Meditation.
It's not a religion or philosophy and it can be practiced by anyone looking to experience more mental clarity or reduce stress. I understood it as a form of meditation, but nothing more. He told me that during meditation he saw my number and had a strong sense that I needed to know that the universe was in support of my new direction.
The next week I spent a week practicing yoga at a spiritual retreat center. After each day of practice we wrote about our experiences. After a few hours of intense yoga we would journal about a given topic or our "after-yoga" thoughts.
My journal entries included random statements such as... "We die in the comfort zone. Step out of your comfort zone. There is peace with truth. There is no peace with self-doubt. Life is full of options. We must have the courage to face the truth." I remember crying because at the time I wasn't following my true path and I felt miserable because of it.
The Monday after the retreat, I wandered back into my corporate office refreshed and relaxed. Then I thought, "What am I doing here? Is this just a pay check for me?"� I knew a job like mine was a dream job for others, but why couldn't I just be thankful for what I had? I made it through the day and cried to my husband about my miserable job that night. He had some inspiring wisdom.
He asked, "How will your life change if you leave this job?
My job will support our current living behaviors until you get up to speed with your own business. You will still have your computer, cable T.V. and your car. Your life won't change. I want you to be happy." It seemed so simple to him, but to me it was huge.
By the end of the day on Tuesday, my hard drive crashed -- not the hard drive of my brain, but my computer's hard drive. I would joke to co-workers, "Do you think God is telling me something?"
Many would just giggle, but one man said very seriously, "Yes! You have all this talent waiting to be let out. What are you doing here? What are you waiting for?" These words stuck with me. What was I waiting for?
Why was I holding on to a job that I disliked? Why was I torturing myself? This is my life!
Like all life journeys you must start by opening your eyes to God's awareness. Patanjali wrote, "When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all your thoughts break their bonds; your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction, and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world."
Live it now.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 11, 2012:
Even an individual at cross purposes with himself is certain to end in failure. Yet a hundred or even a thousand people can definitely attain their goal, if they are of one mind.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 11, 2012:
Even an individual at cross purposes with himself is certain to end in failure. Yet a hundred or even a thousand people can definitely attain their goal, if they are of one mind.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
Letter to the Lay Priest Domyo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 10, 2012
Concerning prayer, there are conspicuous prayer and conspicuous response, conspicuous prayer and inconspicuous response, inconspicuous prayer and inconspicuous response, and inconspicuous prayer and conspicuous response. But the only essential point is that, if you believe in this sutra, all your desires will be fulfilled in both the present and the future.
Letter to the Lay Priest Domyo
Written to the lay priest Domyo on August 10, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 10, 2012
Concerning prayer, there are conspicuous prayer and conspicuous response, conspicuous prayer and inconspicuous response, inconspicuous prayer and inconspicuous response, and inconspicuous prayer and conspicuous response. But the only essential point is that, if you believe in this sutra, all your desires will be fulfilled in both the present and the future.
Letter to the Lay Priest Domyo
Written to the lay priest Domyo on August 10, 1276
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Unconditional Acceptance
Spiritual Story by Pat Campbell
A couple of years ago I met a dear old lady who I will call Annie (not her real name). She was 97 and very frail and unable to walk but with a mind as bright as a button. I only knew her for a few short weeks before she passed on but I felt I knew her for a lifetime. We shared so much of ourselves in that short time and I feel very blessed to have known her.
I attended Annie’s funeral and it was there that I received the first part of a profound enlightenment. When the eulogies were being given, I suddenly experienced what I call "the God feeling" very strongly. (This intense feeling of total love goes way beyond anything mortal and it has often accompanied major "aha" moments, especially in the early days of my relationship with God. I soon came to understand that God wanted me to know that the new insight or piece of wisdom came from Him. The knowledge that I have acquired during these moments I call "absolute knowings" because I have known beyond a shadow of doubt that these learnings were absolute truth.)
It became apparent to me that God wanted me to listen very carefully to what was being said. Annie's son was talking at the time about the way that Annie totally accepted everyone she encountered in her life, regardless of their situation, belief, habits or attitudes. She truly did know that we are all one and treated everyone equally. And I thought to myself, "What is the lesson here? I do endeavour to accept everyone! This doesn’t seem to be anything that I haven’t already learnt."
It was a few days later before I realised that it was myself that I had to learn to accept unconditionally. I already accepted others as they are (along with their faults) but I have always been very hard on myself for the slightest little mistake or oversight on my part. It was okay for others to be less than perfect but I couldn't accept that in myself.
It never ceases to amaze me how different events in our lives (and past lives) fall together to create a complete story. Shortly after Annie's funeral, I had a thought that kept popping into my head that I had done a terrible wrong to a friend of mine in another lifetime. I didn't want to think about it because it was really a very big transgression but my thoughts kept returning there regardless. And then I had a dream (something I don't do very often as I am more likely to have "waking dreams"). In the dream I was the victim of the same transgression and the perpetrator in this instance was someone I also know very well in this lifetime.
As I was thinking about how these events were related (and also feeling rather bad because I knew my previous transgression was true), I felt what I call "the voice feeling" which is hard to describe. I don’t audibly hear actual words but I "feel" the words instead (and I have to admit that I am just a little envious of Neale Donald Walsch and Barbara Rose who do actually hear God's voice audibly). And the "voice" said to me, "Do you judge the one who wronged you?"
And I thought no I don't, it doesn't make any difference to the way I feel about this person at all. And the "voice" said, "Well why are you judging yourself so harshly for your wrongdoing when you can accept it in another?" And that's when I realised that all of these events occurred so that I might learn to accept myself as readily as I accept others. It is not a lesson totally learnt even now and I do still tend to berate myself for not doing everything I set out to do but I have definitely made some progress and have somewhat relaxed my expectations of myself to a level which is more humanly achievable.
A couple of years ago I met a dear old lady who I will call Annie (not her real name). She was 97 and very frail and unable to walk but with a mind as bright as a button. I only knew her for a few short weeks before she passed on but I felt I knew her for a lifetime. We shared so much of ourselves in that short time and I feel very blessed to have known her.
I attended Annie’s funeral and it was there that I received the first part of a profound enlightenment. When the eulogies were being given, I suddenly experienced what I call "the God feeling" very strongly. (This intense feeling of total love goes way beyond anything mortal and it has often accompanied major "aha" moments, especially in the early days of my relationship with God. I soon came to understand that God wanted me to know that the new insight or piece of wisdom came from Him. The knowledge that I have acquired during these moments I call "absolute knowings" because I have known beyond a shadow of doubt that these learnings were absolute truth.)
It became apparent to me that God wanted me to listen very carefully to what was being said. Annie's son was talking at the time about the way that Annie totally accepted everyone she encountered in her life, regardless of their situation, belief, habits or attitudes. She truly did know that we are all one and treated everyone equally. And I thought to myself, "What is the lesson here? I do endeavour to accept everyone! This doesn’t seem to be anything that I haven’t already learnt."
It was a few days later before I realised that it was myself that I had to learn to accept unconditionally. I already accepted others as they are (along with their faults) but I have always been very hard on myself for the slightest little mistake or oversight on my part. It was okay for others to be less than perfect but I couldn't accept that in myself.
It never ceases to amaze me how different events in our lives (and past lives) fall together to create a complete story. Shortly after Annie's funeral, I had a thought that kept popping into my head that I had done a terrible wrong to a friend of mine in another lifetime. I didn't want to think about it because it was really a very big transgression but my thoughts kept returning there regardless. And then I had a dream (something I don't do very often as I am more likely to have "waking dreams"). In the dream I was the victim of the same transgression and the perpetrator in this instance was someone I also know very well in this lifetime.
As I was thinking about how these events were related (and also feeling rather bad because I knew my previous transgression was true), I felt what I call "the voice feeling" which is hard to describe. I don’t audibly hear actual words but I "feel" the words instead (and I have to admit that I am just a little envious of Neale Donald Walsch and Barbara Rose who do actually hear God's voice audibly). And the "voice" said to me, "Do you judge the one who wronged you?"
And I thought no I don't, it doesn't make any difference to the way I feel about this person at all. And the "voice" said, "Well why are you judging yourself so harshly for your wrongdoing when you can accept it in another?" And that's when I realised that all of these events occurred so that I might learn to accept myself as readily as I accept others. It is not a lesson totally learnt even now and I do still tend to berate myself for not doing everything I set out to do but I have definitely made some progress and have somewhat relaxed my expectations of myself to a level which is more humanly achievable.
The Supremacy of the Law
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 9, 2012:
The Buddha promised in the Lotus Sutra that, for women, the sutra will serve as a lantern in the darkness, as a ship when they cross the sea, and as a protector when they travel through dangerous places.
The Supremacy of the Law
Written to Oto and her mother, Nichimyo, on August 4, 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 9, 2012:
The Buddha promised in the Lotus Sutra that, for women, the sutra will serve as a lantern in the darkness, as a ship when they cross the sea, and as a protector when they travel through dangerous places.
The Supremacy of the Law
Written to Oto and her mother, Nichimyo, on August 4, 1275
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 8, 2012:
The sutras expounded prior to the Lotus Sutra cannot lead to Buddhahood because they are provisional and expedient teachings that separate reality and wisdom. The Lotus Sutra, however, unites the two as a single entity. The sutra says that the Buddhas open the door of Buddha wisdom to all living beings, show it, cause them to awaken to it, and induce them to enter its path. By realizing this Buddha wisdom, one attains Buddhahood.
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Written to Soya Jiro Hyoe-no-jo Kyoshin on August 3, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 8, 2012:
The sutras expounded prior to the Lotus Sutra cannot lead to Buddhahood because they are provisional and expedient teachings that separate reality and wisdom. The Lotus Sutra, however, unites the two as a single entity. The sutra says that the Buddhas open the door of Buddha wisdom to all living beings, show it, cause them to awaken to it, and induce them to enter its path. By realizing this Buddha wisdom, one attains Buddhahood.
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Written to Soya Jiro Hyoe-no-jo Kyoshin on August 3, 1276
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Truth Will Set You Free
Spiritual Story by BK Surat Singh Ayer
Once there was a thief and he was looking for things to steal, but could not find very much. In desperation, he went in a temple where the Pujari (Priest) was giving a religious speech to many people. The thief had decided to steal money from the businesspeople, but after observing a new man's presence with different face he decided to listen to the speech for a little while.
The Pujari was speaking on the topic of truthfulness, and the thief thought that the talk was not so bad. He was completely lost in the true feeling of truthfulness. When the program was over everybody went home except for the thief who was not ready to leave.
The thief began to worry that the Pujari would think the thief would do something wrong in the temple. To help feel less fearful, the thief asked the Pujari, "I have nothing to do here but you gave a very deep speech on the importance of truthfulness which I really liked. However my mind is still not going to digest it."
The thief had many questions and arguments in his mind regarding the imbuement of truthfulness. He wondered how a thief could become free from not speaking a lie. The priest gave deep advice to him that by speaking truth also he would do his business. By using the virtue of truthfulness also he would remain safe and secure no matter where he was or what he stole.
The Pujari gave the thief confidence that he could be successful, even while stealing. The thief firmly determined to follow the Pujari's advice in the practical life and promised to follow the norm of truthfulness and honesty from that day in all respect. He committed to speak fact and reality everywhere from that very moment.
As making the promise not to speak a lie in his life when the thief was going out from there, in the same time, the king disguised in an ordinary form was roaming there to look after the atmosphere of the capital city. Coincidentally the thief met a person on the way in a roaming condition. The roaming gentleman asked the thief who he was. The thief recalled his promise to always speak the truth, even though difficult, he still revealed that he was a thief.
The gentleman replied happily and excitedly that he is also a thief. These two men became friends by handshaking and hugging with each other. The new thief suggested that they steal some very valuable things, and that he knows exactly where to find them. He took him in such incognito way that both of them arrived in front of the Grand Royal Palace.
The first thief told his new friend that he was committed to speak truth at all times. The new friend replied, "It doesn't matter. Let us go just saying our true identity and purpose." As the security personnel asked who they are and where they are going, both of them replied that they were going into the palace to steal diamonds.
The security guard thought, "What sorts of staff are they, and why are they being so angry with me? It is my duty to ask, but why did they reply so bitterly?" He did not know why they were so angry without any cause.
The new thief friend took them to a shelf in a beautiful big drawing room and said to break the lock of the safe. After breaking open the safe, they found five most valuable diamonds. The thief friend suggested that they take only four diamonds - two for each of them because breaking one diamond in half would be valueless. So they took four and left one diamond there in the opened safe.
Both of them went from their hiding two diamonds on their hand just packing on the cloth for each. They again returned in the same gate. While the security personnel asked who they are what they are taking in their hand? They replied they are thieving; they are taking diamonds of the palace. The security personnel again wondered why they were vulgarly behaving with him.
The next day as the royal palace offices were opened, they found the royal treasure of the palace was broken. When the royal treasurer checked it he noticed that 4 were missing. He saw this as a great opportunity, so he put the remaining diamond in his pocket and announced to the Kiing that the 5 valuable diamonds had been stolen from the royal treasure.
The King ordered the treasurer to ask the security guards about this event, and the guards responded that two people gave vulgarly replies last night that they were thieves and planned to steal the diamonds. The security guards also shared that they did not feel the people could really be thieves because no thief would announce so boldly that he was there to steal, and also have the courage to steal!
Then the evening security guards were questioned, and they replied "When we asked on their return what they carried, they said they were taking the valuable diamonds. This reply was unbelievable, so we did not do anything about it."
The King then ordered the security guards to arrest the thief, and bring him to the King. After bringing him in the palace they presented the thief before his majesty the king. The king carefully observed him from his feet to head and said, "So you are the thief. What did you steal?"
The thief replied, "I cannot speak a lie, so you must know I have stolen the diamonds of the royal treasure along with my friend."
"How many diamonds did you steal?" the King asked.
"We stole four. Two for each of us. Since we could not break the last one in half, we left one diamond in the safe."
The King then asked to the treasurer, "How many diamonds are missing?"
"All five, your Majesty."
Realizing what had happened, the King immediately fired the treasurer and appointed the thief as the new treasurer for his commitment to always being truthful.
Once there was a thief and he was looking for things to steal, but could not find very much. In desperation, he went in a temple where the Pujari (Priest) was giving a religious speech to many people. The thief had decided to steal money from the businesspeople, but after observing a new man's presence with different face he decided to listen to the speech for a little while.
The Pujari was speaking on the topic of truthfulness, and the thief thought that the talk was not so bad. He was completely lost in the true feeling of truthfulness. When the program was over everybody went home except for the thief who was not ready to leave.
The thief began to worry that the Pujari would think the thief would do something wrong in the temple. To help feel less fearful, the thief asked the Pujari, "I have nothing to do here but you gave a very deep speech on the importance of truthfulness which I really liked. However my mind is still not going to digest it."
The thief had many questions and arguments in his mind regarding the imbuement of truthfulness. He wondered how a thief could become free from not speaking a lie. The priest gave deep advice to him that by speaking truth also he would do his business. By using the virtue of truthfulness also he would remain safe and secure no matter where he was or what he stole.
The Pujari gave the thief confidence that he could be successful, even while stealing. The thief firmly determined to follow the Pujari's advice in the practical life and promised to follow the norm of truthfulness and honesty from that day in all respect. He committed to speak fact and reality everywhere from that very moment.
As making the promise not to speak a lie in his life when the thief was going out from there, in the same time, the king disguised in an ordinary form was roaming there to look after the atmosphere of the capital city. Coincidentally the thief met a person on the way in a roaming condition. The roaming gentleman asked the thief who he was. The thief recalled his promise to always speak the truth, even though difficult, he still revealed that he was a thief.
The gentleman replied happily and excitedly that he is also a thief. These two men became friends by handshaking and hugging with each other. The new thief suggested that they steal some very valuable things, and that he knows exactly where to find them. He took him in such incognito way that both of them arrived in front of the Grand Royal Palace.
The first thief told his new friend that he was committed to speak truth at all times. The new friend replied, "It doesn't matter. Let us go just saying our true identity and purpose." As the security personnel asked who they are and where they are going, both of them replied that they were going into the palace to steal diamonds.
The security guard thought, "What sorts of staff are they, and why are they being so angry with me? It is my duty to ask, but why did they reply so bitterly?" He did not know why they were so angry without any cause.
The new thief friend took them to a shelf in a beautiful big drawing room and said to break the lock of the safe. After breaking open the safe, they found five most valuable diamonds. The thief friend suggested that they take only four diamonds - two for each of them because breaking one diamond in half would be valueless. So they took four and left one diamond there in the opened safe.
Both of them went from their hiding two diamonds on their hand just packing on the cloth for each. They again returned in the same gate. While the security personnel asked who they are what they are taking in their hand? They replied they are thieving; they are taking diamonds of the palace. The security personnel again wondered why they were vulgarly behaving with him.
The next day as the royal palace offices were opened, they found the royal treasure of the palace was broken. When the royal treasurer checked it he noticed that 4 were missing. He saw this as a great opportunity, so he put the remaining diamond in his pocket and announced to the Kiing that the 5 valuable diamonds had been stolen from the royal treasure.
The King ordered the treasurer to ask the security guards about this event, and the guards responded that two people gave vulgarly replies last night that they were thieves and planned to steal the diamonds. The security guards also shared that they did not feel the people could really be thieves because no thief would announce so boldly that he was there to steal, and also have the courage to steal!
Then the evening security guards were questioned, and they replied "When we asked on their return what they carried, they said they were taking the valuable diamonds. This reply was unbelievable, so we did not do anything about it."
The King then ordered the security guards to arrest the thief, and bring him to the King. After bringing him in the palace they presented the thief before his majesty the king. The king carefully observed him from his feet to head and said, "So you are the thief. What did you steal?"
The thief replied, "I cannot speak a lie, so you must know I have stolen the diamonds of the royal treasure along with my friend."
"How many diamonds did you steal?" the King asked.
"We stole four. Two for each of us. Since we could not break the last one in half, we left one diamond in the safe."
The King then asked to the treasurer, "How many diamonds are missing?"
"All five, your Majesty."
Realizing what had happened, the King immediately fired the treasurer and appointed the thief as the new treasurer for his commitment to always being truthful.
The True Aspect of All Phenomena
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 7, 2012:
When praised highly by others, one feels that there is no hardship one cannot bear. Such is the courage that springs from words of praise.
The True Aspect of All Phenomena
Written to Sairen-bo Nichijo on May 17, 1273
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, August 7, 2012:
When praised highly by others, one feels that there is no hardship one cannot bear. Such is the courage that springs from words of praise.
The True Aspect of All Phenomena
Written to Sairen-bo Nichijo on May 17, 1273
Many in Body, One in Mind
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 6, 2012:
Though numerous, the Japanese will find it difficult to accomplish anything, because they are divided in spirit. In contrast, although Nichiren and his followers are few, because they are different in body, but united in mind, they will definitely accomplish their great mission of widely propagating the Lotus Sutra.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, August 6, 2012:
Though numerous, the Japanese will find it difficult to accomplish anything, because they are divided in spirit. In contrast, although Nichiren and his followers are few, because they are different in body, but united in mind, they will definitely accomplish their great mission of widely propagating the Lotus Sutra.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
Friday, March 23, 2012
Truth About Ego
Spiritual Story by Keshava Murthy
Once there was a common man who had an uncommon sense. People of his small town went to him with their problems and some others like to be with him and listen to him.
One day a man came and asked "What is Ego? They say its bad for one to have it. How can one over come it?"
The common man replied, "Ego is self-awareness. You need it to set and attain your goals. But be careful because it's like nails on your finger and should never be left to grow more than necessary to be able to hold the grip."
Once there was a common man who had an uncommon sense. People of his small town went to him with their problems and some others like to be with him and listen to him.
One day a man came and asked "What is Ego? They say its bad for one to have it. How can one over come it?"
The common man replied, "Ego is self-awareness. You need it to set and attain your goals. But be careful because it's like nails on your finger and should never be left to grow more than necessary to be able to hold the grip."
A Comparison of the Lotus and Other Sutras
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 5, 2012:
The great lantern that illuminates the long night of the sufferings of birth and death, the sharp sword that severs the fundamental darkness inherent in life, is none other than the Lotus Sutra.
A Comparison of the Lotus and Other Sutras
Written to Toki Jonin on May 26, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, August 5, 2012:
The great lantern that illuminates the long night of the sufferings of birth and death, the sharp sword that severs the fundamental darkness inherent in life, is none other than the Lotus Sutra.
A Comparison of the Lotus and Other Sutras
Written to Toki Jonin on May 26, 1280
Reply to Yasaburo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 4, 2012:
I spoke out solely because I had long known that the people of Japan would meet with great suffering, and I felt pity for them. Thoughtful persons should therefore realize that I have met these trials for their sake. If they were people who understood their obligations or who were capable of reason, then out of two blows that fall upon me, they would receive one in my stead.
Reply to Yasaburo
Written to Saito Yasaburo on August 4, 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, August 4, 2012:
I spoke out solely because I had long known that the people of Japan would meet with great suffering, and I felt pity for them. Thoughtful persons should therefore realize that I have met these trials for their sake. If they were people who understood their obligations or who were capable of reason, then out of two blows that fall upon me, they would receive one in my stead.
Reply to Yasaburo
Written to Saito Yasaburo on August 4, 1277
Thursday, March 22, 2012
To Die Like An Angel
Spiritual Story by Mother Teresa
One evening we went out and rescued four people off the streets. One of them was in a desperate condition. I told the sisters, "You take care of the others. I will care or this one who is worse off."
I did everything for her that my love could do. I put her into bed, and I saw a beautiful smile light up her face. She squeezed my hand and only managed to say two words, "Thank you." And then she closed her eyes.
I couldn't help but ask myself there beside her body, "What would I have said if I had been in her place?" My answer was very simple. I would have said that I was hungry, that I was dying, that I was cold. Or I would have said that this or that part of my body hurt or something like that. But she gave me much more.
She gave me her grateful love. And she died with a smile on her face.
One evening we went out and rescued four people off the streets. One of them was in a desperate condition. I told the sisters, "You take care of the others. I will care or this one who is worse off."
I did everything for her that my love could do. I put her into bed, and I saw a beautiful smile light up her face. She squeezed my hand and only managed to say two words, "Thank you." And then she closed her eyes.
I couldn't help but ask myself there beside her body, "What would I have said if I had been in her place?" My answer was very simple. I would have said that I was hungry, that I was dying, that I was cold. Or I would have said that this or that part of my body hurt or something like that. But she gave me much more.
She gave me her grateful love. And she died with a smile on her face.
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 3, 2012:
Judging from these examples, we may conclude that for evil people living in the latter age the attainment of Buddhahood does not depend upon whether their offenses are slight or grave, but solely upon whether or not they have faith in this sutra.
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Written to Hakiri Rokuro Saburo on August 3, 1273
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, August 3, 2012:
Judging from these examples, we may conclude that for evil people living in the latter age the attainment of Buddhahood does not depend upon whether their offenses are slight or grave, but solely upon whether or not they have faith in this sutra.
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Written to Hakiri Rokuro Saburo on August 3, 1273
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 2, 2012:
The heart of the Lotus Sutra is the revelation that one may attain the supreme enlightenment in one's present form without altering one's status as an ordinary person. This means that, without casting aside one's karmic impediments, one can still attain the Buddha way. Thus T'ien-t'ai says, "The other sutras only predict Buddhahood . . . for the good, but not for the evil;. . . This [Lotus] sutra predicts Buddhahood for all."
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Written to Hakiri Rokuro Saburo on August 3, 1273
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, August 2, 2012:
The heart of the Lotus Sutra is the revelation that one may attain the supreme enlightenment in one's present form without altering one's status as an ordinary person. This means that, without casting aside one's karmic impediments, one can still attain the Buddha way. Thus T'ien-t'ai says, "The other sutras only predict Buddhahood . . . for the good, but not for the evil;. . . This [Lotus] sutra predicts Buddhahood for all."
Reply to Hakiri Saburo
Written to Hakiri Rokuro Saburo on August 3, 1273
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 1, 2012:
If Nichiren's compassion is truly great and encompassing, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo will spread for ten thousand years and more, for all eternity, for it has the beneficial power to open the blind eyes of every living being in the country of Japan, and it blocks off the road that leads to the hell of incessant suffering.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, August 1, 2012:
If Nichiren's compassion is truly great and encompassing, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo will spread for ten thousand years and more, for all eternity, for it has the beneficial power to open the blind eyes of every living being in the country of Japan, and it blocks off the road that leads to the hell of incessant suffering.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
The Opening of the Eyes
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 31, 2012:
Even a wise man cannot become a Buddha through the other sutras, but with the Lotus Sutra, even fools can plant the seeds that lead to Buddhahood. As the sutra passage I have quoted earlier puts it, "Although they do not seek emancipation, emancipation will come of itself."
The Opening of the Eyes
Written to Shijo Kingo in February 1272
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 31, 2012:
Even a wise man cannot become a Buddha through the other sutras, but with the Lotus Sutra, even fools can plant the seeds that lead to Buddhahood. As the sutra passage I have quoted earlier puts it, "Although they do not seek emancipation, emancipation will come of itself."
The Opening of the Eyes
Written to Shijo Kingo in February 1272
Three Summers and the Southern Cross
Spiritual Story by Naria Satrick
"We are all connected to the Earth," she was saying, pushing the bead-adorned braids away from my face, then letting her hands rest on my shoulders. I listened, mostly because her mouth was beautiful, hearing her roll over the words in her native tongue was like music. I listened because the light touch of her fingers on my bare collarbone was somehow intense and exciting, yet at the same time comforting.
I must have been silent too long, because she smiled out of the side of her mouth slightly, and her eyes sparkled. She laughed then, half of a glorious laugh, then spun away slowly letting her fingertips drop from where they had touched me. I was suddenly aware that drums were being played not far away, and Mari was spinning slowly toward them, bare feet in the rocky sand as she moved toward the light. I followed clumsily, thinking of how graceful she was...how graceful they all were, when merely walking.
And when they danced?
I had seen it for the first time in Nayarit, camping somewhere in the middle of a hundred miles of untouched white beach. I followed the sound of drums to a rocky outcropping and looked out over the angry waters that could thrash a person to death against the rocks. The roaring of foam and wave drowned out nearly all sound, except a rhythm that beat behind my temples and in my blood. They stood in water up to their knees, each of them a myriad of woven colors and beads, linked with twine. Their bare brown was skin stained white with the ocean's salt, but their flesh did not quiver, though it was November and windy. Eleven of them in all, seven with drums standing in a line facing the setting sun. Three in front of them, arms outstretched toward that bleeding sunset. And she before them, the water lapping at her thighs, rooted in place as her upper body twisted and writhed in a dance so primal I was rooted in place, watching.
When the sun had completely set, the intensity dropped from their features and bodies. There was a moment of reverence, then laughing and splashing they emerged from the water, strapped their instruments to their backs, and began walking down the beach in my direction. I don't remember what I said, if anything. One carried an extra drum. When he saw me looking, he said that one of their number had gone off to the "warm places."
It made little sense to me then, but then, I wonder if I was as strange to them as they were to me - a vacationing American girl in blue jean shorts and a faded black t-shirt. In any case, they were friendly, and being that I was otherwise alone, I more or less accidentally ended up remaining in their company. I remember the first night we talked of freedom, they finding it remarkable that I could wander so far barely a day over 18 years old - how liberal my parents must be, yet there I was pondering their freedom from society, to come and go as they please, living off the land. We were instant friends.
That night, Mari and I sat up late talking after the fire had burned down to orange embers. She pointed at each of the stars and told me the names they called them. This one, she said, was the wishing star, that guarded children's smiles. And this one guided rains. I showed her what we call the Big Dipper and Orion and she pointed far to the horizon (as dawn was almost breaking) at a few stars almost in a line. I asked her what they were, and she said that they guided people across the waters. I said, I know it as the Southern Cross ..or at least, I thought it was. By the time it rose high enough to see, the sun was too bright in the sky.
And six months pass. The salt water and frontier life quickly ruined my already threadbare cotton shirt, and my jeans - which were never snug, now constantly slid down my thighs. I discarded these clothes for the more practical garb the other women wore. Soon beads and shells adorned my hair and twine was wrapped around my wrists. It was a slow change, a fantastic adventure, with these people, who my mind thought of as 'gypsies', whose nature I didn't truly understand.
Two years I spent among them and not one day of it near any major city. I'd never been much of an outdoor person, but nonetheless I adapted quickly.
Though I always felt a sense of loss. As much as I came to love them, I never felt that I 'fit' into the pattern of their life. This was their world, and my world only on the surface. I had an American Express card and a passport tucked in the bottom of my bag so this wasn't my reality. Yet it felt like somewhat more than a vacation. When I mentioned this to Mari, she just smiled and said, "This is your journey."
"So where am I journeying to?" I had asked.
"Within yourself."
Before I could respond, she just smiled in her way and left me standing there, clutching at the air.
Monsoon season came and went again, and their camp flooded. Much of the food they had gathered and packed so carefully for the coming winter was lost in the rolling deluge of mud. Then it grew cold in the mountains as we hiked toward the cave that sheltered us the year before, though the weather was much more mild then. Two of the younger boys became sick from the cold, they were lain in the back of the cave near the fire, designs drawn on their skin with a deep blue ink (the making of which they would never tell me). Then all night long the others would chant and play drums, while Mari danced. I knew this to be something of religious or at the very least ritualistic significane, and though they did not ask it of me, I stood outside the cave. This didn't stop me from peeking through the opening, watching flames and shadows dance against the decorated cave walls while the snow settled in my hair.
After a week of watching them suffer, I pulled Mari aside, for it was her that I knew best after these many months. I said, lets get them to the city, to a hospital. I told her I had the money. The look on her face at first, I thought I had offended her gravely. Then she smiled that half smile at me and said that there was no need for me to worry, that their pains would end soon.
Early in the morning the next day, Anrei, the youngest and most fragile boy, was dead. Six hours later his brother Mijo followed. I was hurt and confused and felt betrayed, and at the same time guilty. These were people who exulted at death, at moving on to the next life. They celebrated with music and dance while I huddled in the corner, near the fire, wrapped in my blankets, hating myself.
When winter ended I walked with them back to the shore then said my farewells. I started walking toward the port town Ixtlahuaca where I planned to catch a cab back to the city and back to my old life. It was twenty miles, and though hardened by two years spent in the wilderness, I was weary and stopped to sleep near a rocky outcropping beneath the stars.
They were still bright and glorious even though the faint glimmer of civilization glowed up over a distant horizon. I wrapped the rough shawl around me, staring at the night through a screen of painted and woven patterns, the cold beads of the trim resting on my cheeks like tears. And though it was nearly spring, I was shivering.
I must have slept. I remember awakening warm. The stars were gone when I opened my eyes, the sky erased and replaced by thick layers of woven blankets. I looked down to find Mari there, her body wrapped around mine and both of us cocooned within the blankets. I smelled feathers and hyacinthe and lay my hand on her back, taking in her warmth. She opened her eyes and looked up at me, barely visible here wrapped in the womb of cloth. My fingers crept out across the sand to find branches leaning and tied - she'd made a shelter over where I slept, draping it around me so thickly that the moonlight could barely be seen.
Seeing me awake, she shifted her position until her limber dancer's body was covering mine like a sheathe, pressed tightly against me, knees bent, powerful thighs clasping the outside of mine. Her body was pulled taught like a predator ready to strike, but the gentleness in her eyes dispelled that thought as quickly as it came. I opened my mouth as if to speak, then I felt her breath on my cheek - moving closer as she moved closer. My words disappeared in the charged air as her fingertips covered my lips. She whispered to me in the native tongue words she knew I understood. "This is a gift" her voice fluttered in that strange musical inflection. My lips parted as if to reply but suddenly my mouth is covered by hers.
It was strange to feel the softness of a woman's lips, as her fingertips traced symbols on my cheeks and we breathed, inhaling and exhaling as one single creature, pale and dark, yin and yang, worlds merging into one. Her fingernails lightly played across my collarbones, then down over my breasts, stopping to draw a design lightly, almost playfully around my navel. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the soft sand as she planted kisses down the curve of my throat. I felt the fabric of my skirt tighten as her fingers worked free the knot at my hip - loosening only, not removing - then felt her slide her palms across my stomach, the tips of her fingers slipping beneath the cloth, slowly, -so slowly!- like stars crossing the sky, her hands crossed down and turned, a twist of her wrist I'd seen in dance silhouetted against so many fires. As they moved down, down to the place I lost my sense of self. I felt her finger part my lips and slide inside me, and I dug one fist into the sand and the other gripped her hair, first gently then more firmly as she began to move. My world was drowning and all the color was bleeding out, my body had become a column of living fire. She lowered her face and slid her tongue within, and my hand grasped her seashell woven hair so tightly I drew blood. How long it went on I could not say, though I remember seeing it brighten beyond the canopy that held us, before becoming weak and fading into darkness.
I awoke alone but still warm, her scent all over my body. My right hand lay caked and sticky with sand where I had given my blood to the earth. I pulled back the drape and walked outside, it was nearly sunset again. Mari was standing knee-deep in the ocean's spray, her arms at her sides resting almost unnaturally (for she was always in motion). I walked over to where she stood, and though I know she heard me coming she did not move, just kept staring out at the sun, whose bottom curve was about to breach the shimmering water. When she finally looked at me, she said simply, "I do not want you to go."
I thought of a million things. How our worlds were too different, how I did not belong here. It was true. But more than that it was that I didn't understand their ways, I didn't have the same reverence for life. I could have said any of this, and she would have understood. For a moment we played the moment out in our minds. Myself speaking, her embracing me and watching as I walked into the jagged horizon. But I didn't speak. Instead I looked out at the sun, the bottom of the blazing disc already becoming blurred as it melted into the waters.
As if she sensed my thoughts, she said "When I was young, my mother told me a story of a young boy who used to believe that where the sun touched the water, the water would be warm. Every day he would swim out as far as he could, but the waters only grew colder. The boy realized after many months that he was only swimming HALF as far, because she had to save his strength for the swim back to shore. Years went by, the boy grew stronger, and each year he could swim further and further. Before long he knew, he just knew, that when he reached the point where must turn back, that he must be so close to his goal."
She paused, looked at me and then back at the sunset, which by now was half descended into the deep.
"So one day, he swam and swam, and he didn't save anything for the way back.
That night, he did not return home. And he was never seen again." Her voice seemed slightly sorrowful.
I felt that I needed to say something, but I couldn't find the words.
Finally, I said "And you believe that he reached the place where the waters are warm, and found such happiness that he never returned to these shores?"
Her smile faded slightly, and she leaned over and placed her palms against the still surface of the ocean as the waves flowed out. "No," she said. "I believe that boy drowned, and gave his spirit back to the earth. " She turned to me. "We are not so different, you and I."
"I don't understand. I thought the story was about letting go, not looking back, reaching the end of the journey?" I stammered.
"The end of the journey is never important," she said, straightening again, pressing her ocean-wet hands to her cheeks.
And we both stood in silence, watching as the upper tip of the sun finally sank beneath the distant blue, and only the aura of its light remained above the horizon. Eyes closed now, Mari began to dance, that strange and somber dance I had seen on the first day we met, almost three summers ago. She continued to dance until we were in almost complete darkness, the beads of her sweat running down her body to join with the salt of the sea. There they mingled with my tears, witnessing again the beauty of this creature, but now understanding something of her nature. The tide was rising and soon was up to my waist, with each ebb and flow my skirts swirled about me like underwater flowers. I swayed slowly to the rhythm of drums, tilting my head back to let the moonlight caress my face. Behind me there they were, the others - how long had they been there?
Finally the water covered my chest and Mari, not much taller than I, finally stopped moving. I heard myself saying "I wish I could dance like you, Aija." Aija. Priestess. I don't recall where I learned the word.
She smiled, and said "We are all connected to the Earth. My limbs move as the tree branches sway in the breeze, as petals quiver on the vine, as water flows over rocks and bleeds into the sand."
She reached beneath the waters and grasped my wounded hand, and brought it up above the waves. "You too have given blood and your body to the sand and to the sea. "
"And to you," I whispered, though I could barely hear my voice above the roar of the night filling my ears. The saltwater had re opened the wound, and my blood now smeared across the tops of her hands.
"Now you can dance as a limb of the Earth."
And the waves washed over our heads, and she embraced me then, and we spun together as one beneath the dark waters. Only for an instant, then the tide withdrew and the moon, larger than life, was a still and perfect silver sphere in the water all around us. The stars danced and faded as the waves began to move once more. We walked back to the others, walking to the beat of drums until our bare feet reached the dry sand.
A month later Mari became ill, and in a few short days she was gone. Though I was torn with bitterness, even rage at her loss, I was happy that she had not suffered. The others removed the ornaments from her hair and body and placed them in a woven bowl filled with crushed flowers. All around her they danced, and though for these people death was a joyous exultation, their song carried a cadence of sorrow and loss woven within the melody. Though I had seen death come to them before, we had been far from the sea.
They placed her body on a raft, surrounded by flowers and spices. And then they carried her body to the shore. Words were said in that musical language, though I couldn't follow them, grieving as I was, all I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my brain. Then Dani, Mari's older brother, brought the bowl with her beads and knelt before me, raising it above his head. At first I did nothing, but he gestured again, so I took up the twinings and the beaded leather and shells, and wrapped them around my wrists and into my hair. "Aija," he whispered, then gestured to the fire where the others stood, playing a slow and eerie rhythm on their drums. For the first time, a wooden flute countermelody eased its way between the harsh and slightly sinister drumbeats, again the word "gypsy" entered my mind as I listened, though somehow, it wasn't quite right.
I walked over to the fire and closed my eyes, letting the music fill my body. I was aware of the feeling of each individual grain of sand beneath my feet and between my toes. I could feel the light of each individual star boring into my skin. I could feel the earth enter my body with every breath. Something inside me fell away. I danced.
I danced until my body trembled and my muscles cried out with pain, until my balance became unstable and I felt myself unable to stop spinning for fear of falling. And then I felt arms pushing me up, or smoke, or pillows, or light, rising from the earth like an aura pushing and pulling my body in the directions it was meant to go. As the wind pushs the leaf on the stem. Yes, I breathed, in my native English as my body finally came to rest on the sand.
They waited until highest tide and pushed the raft out to the sea, the orange fire-embers placed around her. Then they all joined hands and watched until it drifted out of sight. In the darkness, and in the firelight, my hands in theirs was no longer the contrast pale and dark, but rather a continuous brown, bound together, like branches. Suddenly the raft came aflame, a fire so distant it was like the stars that crowned it. As if somewhere above a star was dying, creating an empty space for her. Dani tells me, she is going to the warm places, where the sun and the earth joined as one and gave birth to the sea. I nodded slightly, watching her smoke rise to the cloudless expanse of night.
I know that I cannot remain among them, that this is just part of my journey. I wonder if Mari knew her time was coming. She knew so much she didn't say. I do not know if they pray, or who they pray to, but I turn my eyes skyward and say inside my mind a thank you for all I have learned. The others part to make a path for me as I walk back to the shore, pulling Mari's beads from my hair and letting them fall into the sea.
Once I am a great distance away, barely visible in the darkness, I see the Southern Cross blinking faintly above the bier, almost as if it is guiding Mari home. I bow deeply, reverently to sea and sky, and to the distant fire that still kindles way out on the crest of a wave.
Because there will be no fire like hers again. Not for light years.
"We are all connected to the Earth," she was saying, pushing the bead-adorned braids away from my face, then letting her hands rest on my shoulders. I listened, mostly because her mouth was beautiful, hearing her roll over the words in her native tongue was like music. I listened because the light touch of her fingers on my bare collarbone was somehow intense and exciting, yet at the same time comforting.
I must have been silent too long, because she smiled out of the side of her mouth slightly, and her eyes sparkled. She laughed then, half of a glorious laugh, then spun away slowly letting her fingertips drop from where they had touched me. I was suddenly aware that drums were being played not far away, and Mari was spinning slowly toward them, bare feet in the rocky sand as she moved toward the light. I followed clumsily, thinking of how graceful she was...how graceful they all were, when merely walking.
And when they danced?
I had seen it for the first time in Nayarit, camping somewhere in the middle of a hundred miles of untouched white beach. I followed the sound of drums to a rocky outcropping and looked out over the angry waters that could thrash a person to death against the rocks. The roaring of foam and wave drowned out nearly all sound, except a rhythm that beat behind my temples and in my blood. They stood in water up to their knees, each of them a myriad of woven colors and beads, linked with twine. Their bare brown was skin stained white with the ocean's salt, but their flesh did not quiver, though it was November and windy. Eleven of them in all, seven with drums standing in a line facing the setting sun. Three in front of them, arms outstretched toward that bleeding sunset. And she before them, the water lapping at her thighs, rooted in place as her upper body twisted and writhed in a dance so primal I was rooted in place, watching.
When the sun had completely set, the intensity dropped from their features and bodies. There was a moment of reverence, then laughing and splashing they emerged from the water, strapped their instruments to their backs, and began walking down the beach in my direction. I don't remember what I said, if anything. One carried an extra drum. When he saw me looking, he said that one of their number had gone off to the "warm places."
It made little sense to me then, but then, I wonder if I was as strange to them as they were to me - a vacationing American girl in blue jean shorts and a faded black t-shirt. In any case, they were friendly, and being that I was otherwise alone, I more or less accidentally ended up remaining in their company. I remember the first night we talked of freedom, they finding it remarkable that I could wander so far barely a day over 18 years old - how liberal my parents must be, yet there I was pondering their freedom from society, to come and go as they please, living off the land. We were instant friends.
That night, Mari and I sat up late talking after the fire had burned down to orange embers. She pointed at each of the stars and told me the names they called them. This one, she said, was the wishing star, that guarded children's smiles. And this one guided rains. I showed her what we call the Big Dipper and Orion and she pointed far to the horizon (as dawn was almost breaking) at a few stars almost in a line. I asked her what they were, and she said that they guided people across the waters. I said, I know it as the Southern Cross ..or at least, I thought it was. By the time it rose high enough to see, the sun was too bright in the sky.
And six months pass. The salt water and frontier life quickly ruined my already threadbare cotton shirt, and my jeans - which were never snug, now constantly slid down my thighs. I discarded these clothes for the more practical garb the other women wore. Soon beads and shells adorned my hair and twine was wrapped around my wrists. It was a slow change, a fantastic adventure, with these people, who my mind thought of as 'gypsies', whose nature I didn't truly understand.
Two years I spent among them and not one day of it near any major city. I'd never been much of an outdoor person, but nonetheless I adapted quickly.
Though I always felt a sense of loss. As much as I came to love them, I never felt that I 'fit' into the pattern of their life. This was their world, and my world only on the surface. I had an American Express card and a passport tucked in the bottom of my bag so this wasn't my reality. Yet it felt like somewhat more than a vacation. When I mentioned this to Mari, she just smiled and said, "This is your journey."
"So where am I journeying to?" I had asked.
"Within yourself."
Before I could respond, she just smiled in her way and left me standing there, clutching at the air.
Monsoon season came and went again, and their camp flooded. Much of the food they had gathered and packed so carefully for the coming winter was lost in the rolling deluge of mud. Then it grew cold in the mountains as we hiked toward the cave that sheltered us the year before, though the weather was much more mild then. Two of the younger boys became sick from the cold, they were lain in the back of the cave near the fire, designs drawn on their skin with a deep blue ink (the making of which they would never tell me). Then all night long the others would chant and play drums, while Mari danced. I knew this to be something of religious or at the very least ritualistic significane, and though they did not ask it of me, I stood outside the cave. This didn't stop me from peeking through the opening, watching flames and shadows dance against the decorated cave walls while the snow settled in my hair.
After a week of watching them suffer, I pulled Mari aside, for it was her that I knew best after these many months. I said, lets get them to the city, to a hospital. I told her I had the money. The look on her face at first, I thought I had offended her gravely. Then she smiled that half smile at me and said that there was no need for me to worry, that their pains would end soon.
Early in the morning the next day, Anrei, the youngest and most fragile boy, was dead. Six hours later his brother Mijo followed. I was hurt and confused and felt betrayed, and at the same time guilty. These were people who exulted at death, at moving on to the next life. They celebrated with music and dance while I huddled in the corner, near the fire, wrapped in my blankets, hating myself.
When winter ended I walked with them back to the shore then said my farewells. I started walking toward the port town Ixtlahuaca where I planned to catch a cab back to the city and back to my old life. It was twenty miles, and though hardened by two years spent in the wilderness, I was weary and stopped to sleep near a rocky outcropping beneath the stars.
They were still bright and glorious even though the faint glimmer of civilization glowed up over a distant horizon. I wrapped the rough shawl around me, staring at the night through a screen of painted and woven patterns, the cold beads of the trim resting on my cheeks like tears. And though it was nearly spring, I was shivering.
I must have slept. I remember awakening warm. The stars were gone when I opened my eyes, the sky erased and replaced by thick layers of woven blankets. I looked down to find Mari there, her body wrapped around mine and both of us cocooned within the blankets. I smelled feathers and hyacinthe and lay my hand on her back, taking in her warmth. She opened her eyes and looked up at me, barely visible here wrapped in the womb of cloth. My fingers crept out across the sand to find branches leaning and tied - she'd made a shelter over where I slept, draping it around me so thickly that the moonlight could barely be seen.
Seeing me awake, she shifted her position until her limber dancer's body was covering mine like a sheathe, pressed tightly against me, knees bent, powerful thighs clasping the outside of mine. Her body was pulled taught like a predator ready to strike, but the gentleness in her eyes dispelled that thought as quickly as it came. I opened my mouth as if to speak, then I felt her breath on my cheek - moving closer as she moved closer. My words disappeared in the charged air as her fingertips covered my lips. She whispered to me in the native tongue words she knew I understood. "This is a gift" her voice fluttered in that strange musical inflection. My lips parted as if to reply but suddenly my mouth is covered by hers.
It was strange to feel the softness of a woman's lips, as her fingertips traced symbols on my cheeks and we breathed, inhaling and exhaling as one single creature, pale and dark, yin and yang, worlds merging into one. Her fingernails lightly played across my collarbones, then down over my breasts, stopping to draw a design lightly, almost playfully around my navel. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back into the soft sand as she planted kisses down the curve of my throat. I felt the fabric of my skirt tighten as her fingers worked free the knot at my hip - loosening only, not removing - then felt her slide her palms across my stomach, the tips of her fingers slipping beneath the cloth, slowly, -so slowly!- like stars crossing the sky, her hands crossed down and turned, a twist of her wrist I'd seen in dance silhouetted against so many fires. As they moved down, down to the place I lost my sense of self. I felt her finger part my lips and slide inside me, and I dug one fist into the sand and the other gripped her hair, first gently then more firmly as she began to move. My world was drowning and all the color was bleeding out, my body had become a column of living fire. She lowered her face and slid her tongue within, and my hand grasped her seashell woven hair so tightly I drew blood. How long it went on I could not say, though I remember seeing it brighten beyond the canopy that held us, before becoming weak and fading into darkness.
I awoke alone but still warm, her scent all over my body. My right hand lay caked and sticky with sand where I had given my blood to the earth. I pulled back the drape and walked outside, it was nearly sunset again. Mari was standing knee-deep in the ocean's spray, her arms at her sides resting almost unnaturally (for she was always in motion). I walked over to where she stood, and though I know she heard me coming she did not move, just kept staring out at the sun, whose bottom curve was about to breach the shimmering water. When she finally looked at me, she said simply, "I do not want you to go."
I thought of a million things. How our worlds were too different, how I did not belong here. It was true. But more than that it was that I didn't understand their ways, I didn't have the same reverence for life. I could have said any of this, and she would have understood. For a moment we played the moment out in our minds. Myself speaking, her embracing me and watching as I walked into the jagged horizon. But I didn't speak. Instead I looked out at the sun, the bottom of the blazing disc already becoming blurred as it melted into the waters.
As if she sensed my thoughts, she said "When I was young, my mother told me a story of a young boy who used to believe that where the sun touched the water, the water would be warm. Every day he would swim out as far as he could, but the waters only grew colder. The boy realized after many months that he was only swimming HALF as far, because she had to save his strength for the swim back to shore. Years went by, the boy grew stronger, and each year he could swim further and further. Before long he knew, he just knew, that when he reached the point where must turn back, that he must be so close to his goal."
She paused, looked at me and then back at the sunset, which by now was half descended into the deep.
"So one day, he swam and swam, and he didn't save anything for the way back.
That night, he did not return home. And he was never seen again." Her voice seemed slightly sorrowful.
I felt that I needed to say something, but I couldn't find the words.
Finally, I said "And you believe that he reached the place where the waters are warm, and found such happiness that he never returned to these shores?"
Her smile faded slightly, and she leaned over and placed her palms against the still surface of the ocean as the waves flowed out. "No," she said. "I believe that boy drowned, and gave his spirit back to the earth. " She turned to me. "We are not so different, you and I."
"I don't understand. I thought the story was about letting go, not looking back, reaching the end of the journey?" I stammered.
"The end of the journey is never important," she said, straightening again, pressing her ocean-wet hands to her cheeks.
And we both stood in silence, watching as the upper tip of the sun finally sank beneath the distant blue, and only the aura of its light remained above the horizon. Eyes closed now, Mari began to dance, that strange and somber dance I had seen on the first day we met, almost three summers ago. She continued to dance until we were in almost complete darkness, the beads of her sweat running down her body to join with the salt of the sea. There they mingled with my tears, witnessing again the beauty of this creature, but now understanding something of her nature. The tide was rising and soon was up to my waist, with each ebb and flow my skirts swirled about me like underwater flowers. I swayed slowly to the rhythm of drums, tilting my head back to let the moonlight caress my face. Behind me there they were, the others - how long had they been there?
Finally the water covered my chest and Mari, not much taller than I, finally stopped moving. I heard myself saying "I wish I could dance like you, Aija." Aija. Priestess. I don't recall where I learned the word.
She smiled, and said "We are all connected to the Earth. My limbs move as the tree branches sway in the breeze, as petals quiver on the vine, as water flows over rocks and bleeds into the sand."
She reached beneath the waters and grasped my wounded hand, and brought it up above the waves. "You too have given blood and your body to the sand and to the sea. "
"And to you," I whispered, though I could barely hear my voice above the roar of the night filling my ears. The saltwater had re opened the wound, and my blood now smeared across the tops of her hands.
"Now you can dance as a limb of the Earth."
And the waves washed over our heads, and she embraced me then, and we spun together as one beneath the dark waters. Only for an instant, then the tide withdrew and the moon, larger than life, was a still and perfect silver sphere in the water all around us. The stars danced and faded as the waves began to move once more. We walked back to the others, walking to the beat of drums until our bare feet reached the dry sand.
A month later Mari became ill, and in a few short days she was gone. Though I was torn with bitterness, even rage at her loss, I was happy that she had not suffered. The others removed the ornaments from her hair and body and placed them in a woven bowl filled with crushed flowers. All around her they danced, and though for these people death was a joyous exultation, their song carried a cadence of sorrow and loss woven within the melody. Though I had seen death come to them before, we had been far from the sea.
They placed her body on a raft, surrounded by flowers and spices. And then they carried her body to the shore. Words were said in that musical language, though I couldn't follow them, grieving as I was, all I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my brain. Then Dani, Mari's older brother, brought the bowl with her beads and knelt before me, raising it above his head. At first I did nothing, but he gestured again, so I took up the twinings and the beaded leather and shells, and wrapped them around my wrists and into my hair. "Aija," he whispered, then gestured to the fire where the others stood, playing a slow and eerie rhythm on their drums. For the first time, a wooden flute countermelody eased its way between the harsh and slightly sinister drumbeats, again the word "gypsy" entered my mind as I listened, though somehow, it wasn't quite right.
I walked over to the fire and closed my eyes, letting the music fill my body. I was aware of the feeling of each individual grain of sand beneath my feet and between my toes. I could feel the light of each individual star boring into my skin. I could feel the earth enter my body with every breath. Something inside me fell away. I danced.
I danced until my body trembled and my muscles cried out with pain, until my balance became unstable and I felt myself unable to stop spinning for fear of falling. And then I felt arms pushing me up, or smoke, or pillows, or light, rising from the earth like an aura pushing and pulling my body in the directions it was meant to go. As the wind pushs the leaf on the stem. Yes, I breathed, in my native English as my body finally came to rest on the sand.
They waited until highest tide and pushed the raft out to the sea, the orange fire-embers placed around her. Then they all joined hands and watched until it drifted out of sight. In the darkness, and in the firelight, my hands in theirs was no longer the contrast pale and dark, but rather a continuous brown, bound together, like branches. Suddenly the raft came aflame, a fire so distant it was like the stars that crowned it. As if somewhere above a star was dying, creating an empty space for her. Dani tells me, she is going to the warm places, where the sun and the earth joined as one and gave birth to the sea. I nodded slightly, watching her smoke rise to the cloudless expanse of night.
I know that I cannot remain among them, that this is just part of my journey. I wonder if Mari knew her time was coming. She knew so much she didn't say. I do not know if they pray, or who they pray to, but I turn my eyes skyward and say inside my mind a thank you for all I have learned. The others part to make a path for me as I walk back to the shore, pulling Mari's beads from my hair and letting them fall into the sea.
Once I am a great distance away, barely visible in the darkness, I see the Southern Cross blinking faintly above the bier, almost as if it is guiding Mari home. I bow deeply, reverently to sea and sky, and to the distant fire that still kindles way out on the crest of a wave.
Because there will be no fire like hers again. Not for light years.
Letter to Niike
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 30, 2012:
Our worldly misdeeds and evil karma may have piled up as high as Mount Sumeru, but when we take faith in this sutra, they will vanish like frost or dew under the sun of the Lotus Sutra.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 30, 2012:
Our worldly misdeeds and evil karma may have piled up as high as Mount Sumeru, but when we take faith in this sutra, they will vanish like frost or dew under the sun of the Lotus Sutra.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
Letter to Jakunichi-bo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 29, 2012:
Believe in the Gohonzon with all your heart, for it is the robe to protect you in the world after death. No wife would ever leave her husband unclothed, nor could any parents fail to feel compassion for their child shivering in the cold. Shakyamuni Buddha and the Lotus Sutra are like one's wife and parents. You have helped me and thereby saved me from disgrace in this life; in return, I will protect you from disgrace in the next. What one has done for another yesterday, will be done for oneself today.
Letter to Jakunichi-bo
Written to Jakunichi-bo Niike on September 16, 1279
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 29, 2012:
Believe in the Gohonzon with all your heart, for it is the robe to protect you in the world after death. No wife would ever leave her husband unclothed, nor could any parents fail to feel compassion for their child shivering in the cold. Shakyamuni Buddha and the Lotus Sutra are like one's wife and parents. You have helped me and thereby saved me from disgrace in this life; in return, I will protect you from disgrace in the next. What one has done for another yesterday, will be done for oneself today.
Letter to Jakunichi-bo
Written to Jakunichi-bo Niike on September 16, 1279
The Sutra of True Requital
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 28, 2012:
Since I have realized that only the Lotus Sutra teaches the attainment of Buddhahood by women, and that only the Lotus is the sutra of true requital for repaying the kindness of our mother, in order to repay my debt to my mother, I have vowed to enable all women to chant the daimoku of this sutra.
The Sutra of True Requital
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on July 28, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 28, 2012:
Since I have realized that only the Lotus Sutra teaches the attainment of Buddhahood by women, and that only the Lotus is the sutra of true requital for repaying the kindness of our mother, in order to repay my debt to my mother, I have vowed to enable all women to chant the daimoku of this sutra.
The Sutra of True Requital
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on July 28, 1278
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Three Men Trapped
Spiritual Story by Malladi Venkata Krishna Murthy
"A philosopher, a scientist and a simple man - none of whom could swim - were trapped in a cove with sheer cliff faces. They split up, but the tide kept coming in. Rescuers lowered a rope with a safety harness.
The philosopher said, 'Ah, this looks like a rope, but I might be mistaken - it could be wishful thinking or an illusion.' So he didn't attach himself, and he was drowned.
"The scientist said, 'Ah, this is an 11 mm polyester rope with a breaking strain of 2800 kg. It conforms to the MR 10-81 standard,' and then proceeded to give an exhaustive, and entirely correct, analysis of the rope's physical and chemical properties; but he didn't attach himself, and he was drowned.
"The simple man said, 'Ah, I'm not sure if it's a rope or a python tail, but it's my only chance, so I'm grabbing it and holding on with my whole life.' He was saved.
"A philosopher, a scientist and a simple man - none of whom could swim - were trapped in a cove with sheer cliff faces. They split up, but the tide kept coming in. Rescuers lowered a rope with a safety harness.
The philosopher said, 'Ah, this looks like a rope, but I might be mistaken - it could be wishful thinking or an illusion.' So he didn't attach himself, and he was drowned.
"The scientist said, 'Ah, this is an 11 mm polyester rope with a breaking strain of 2800 kg. It conforms to the MR 10-81 standard,' and then proceeded to give an exhaustive, and entirely correct, analysis of the rope's physical and chemical properties; but he didn't attach himself, and he was drowned.
"The simple man said, 'Ah, I'm not sure if it's a rope or a python tail, but it's my only chance, so I'm grabbing it and holding on with my whole life.' He was saved.
The Hero of the World
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 27, 2012:
Since childhood, I, Nichiren, have never prayed for the secular things of this life but have single-mindedly sought to become a Buddha. Of late, however, I have been ceaselessly praying for your sake to the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha and the god of the sun, for I am convinced that you are a person who can inherit the soul of the Lotus Sutra.
The Hero of the World
Written to Shijo Kingo in 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 27, 2012:
Since childhood, I, Nichiren, have never prayed for the secular things of this life but have single-mindedly sought to become a Buddha. Of late, however, I have been ceaselessly praying for your sake to the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha and the god of the sun, for I am convinced that you are a person who can inherit the soul of the Lotus Sutra.
The Hero of the World
Written to Shijo Kingo in 1277
Letter to Niike
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 26, 2012:
Faith in this sutra means that you will surely attain Buddhahood if you are true to the entirety of the Lotus Sutra, adhering exactly to its teachings without adding any of your own ideas or following the arbitrary interpretations of others.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 26, 2012:
Faith in this sutra means that you will surely attain Buddhahood if you are true to the entirety of the Lotus Sutra, adhering exactly to its teachings without adding any of your own ideas or following the arbitrary interpretations of others.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
Monday, March 19, 2012
Those Unforgettable 180 Days
Spiritual Story by Shirley Cheng
"This is carrots," said my mother, pointing to the word that might as well be Russian or Arabic for all I knew. "Carrots," she repeated, then told me what the word means in Chinese, my native tongue.
"Carrots," I said after her.
"Perfect." She pointed to another word in the thin picture book adorned with a yellow cover. The pictures showed a boy planting his own garden. "This is 'pineapples.'"
I eagerly listened to each syllable as my mother pronounced each word clearly. So this was my first official day of learning how to read after attending my first day of school. No, I wasn't a chubby pre-schooler, nor was I a hyper kindergartner; in less than sixty days, I would blow out eleven candles on my birthday cake.
"I'm going to wash the dishes. I'll be back in a little bit to check on how you're getting along with the book." She gently touched my hair before she left the room.
I studied each sentence, flipping through the book and enjoying the pictures; not knowing how to read, I could only admire the talented drawings. I usually immersed myself in creating pictures of my own ever since I was about six or seven. I turned back to the first page of the book, which had been chosen by my special education teacher. I felt a tingling in my soul, the kind of tingling one feels in anticipation of something wonderful happening very soon.
Having been hospitalized for years between America and China for treatment of the severe juvenile rheumatoid arthritis that has made a home within my body since infancy, receiving education--the knowledge of life--for the very first time was a thrill for me; no longer was I lying on my hospital bed daydreaming about going to school and reading.
My eyes relished the sight of the words as I pronounced them aloud. I smiled to myself when I was able to read a complete sentence, then an entire paragraph.
A couple of hours flew by before my mother opened the door to my room, and I greeted her with a big grin. "I can read much of the book!" I declared.
I wondered, when I might catch up to those students who had had five years of schooling already. The words I had just learned were all that I knew. I had no idea from where rain comes or why we see a rainbow after a refreshing rain.
Wanting to learn as much as I could as quickly as possible, I absorbed all that was taught in class, and mostly self-taught myself how to read; like Cookie Monster, I devoured one book after another as though they were chocolate chip cookies, yet always hungered for more.
After about 180 days of attendance, my special education teacher told my mother: "She's ready to go to a regular sixth grade class, and she'll do very well in it."
Eight years later, I reminisced about those 180 days as I sat on the stage before hundreds of people. It was my high school graduation ceremony, and I was a student speaker who excitedly awaited my turn to speak.
My mother held the microphone for me when my turn arrived. I began:
"Good evening, my fellow graduates. My name is Shirley Cheng. It is certainly an honor in speaking to welcome and congratulate every one of you tonight! First, I would like to take this opportunity to thank those people who have made it possible for me to be here tonight: my beloved mom Juliet, (who is here beside me, holding the microphone), who has been giving me unwavering love, support, and encouragement; Mrs. Shapley, who took the time to personally administer the test to me; and every single teacher who has given me the treasure of knowledge. I have no words to describe how grand I feel right now, so I'm not even going to try. I have encountered numerous barriers in getting an education due to my physical disabilities, but I still strove to prevail, to achieve my heart's desire."
Several camera lights flashed before my eyes. The audience applauded when I shared with them my life story.
"Unfortunately, I lost my eyesight towards the end of my sophomore year in high school. So I received home-tutoring instead, but was unable to accumulate enough credits to get a regents high school diploma. Thus, I received a high school equivalency diploma instead, and for which I am very, very, very grateful! I took the GED test using cassette tapes and a tape recorder. I did everything in my head without seeing anything, including math calculations and graphs. I also recorded my essay on the tape recorder, and I scored over 3200."
Another round of applause broke out. When the noise died down, I continued.
"Well, all that's left to say now is that I am thankful to be here, knowing I can take the next step of my journey. I want to congratulate every one of you for having come this far with your ambitions. Give yourself a pat on the back, and know that whatever you have your heart set on, you shall achieve it, and no matter what hardship you may face, you shall prevail. Be strong, listen hard to the voice calling from your heart. Do what your heart desires, and if anything or anyone gets in your way, turn your head and go in another direction to achieve your goals. Thank you and have a great night all!"
I flashed the audience a big smile. I could barely hear my mother over the thunderous applause as she said, "They're all standing up!" Cameras flashed from every corner, bathing me in radiance.
After the speeches, the special recognition awards were handed out to ten students, including me, for scoring over 3,000 on the GED exam. "Your speech was great," commented the lady, while handing me my award. Then the audience cheered for each of the ninety-four students as they received their diplomas.
After the ceremony ended, several people, mostly parents from the audience, came up to me. "That's a wonderful speech. It was the best I've heard in a long time," remarked an official from the school district.
"Your speech touched me. It almost made me cry," commented an audience member.
More compliments flew my way as my mother pushed me out of the auditorium. A few people stretched out their hands for me to shake. "I would like to take your picture," said one gentleman. I gladly posed for the shot, my mind drifted back to those unforgettable 180 days.
Yes, those 180 days were truly special education; they opened the door to a whole new world for me. It wasn't just a moment's pleasure, but an everlasting treasure of self-fulfillment and endless opportunities to success. I smile each time I recollect those days and how far I have come, from learning to read an entire book for the first time to publishing my own books.
"This is carrots," said my mother, pointing to the word that might as well be Russian or Arabic for all I knew. "Carrots," she repeated, then told me what the word means in Chinese, my native tongue.
"Carrots," I said after her.
"Perfect." She pointed to another word in the thin picture book adorned with a yellow cover. The pictures showed a boy planting his own garden. "This is 'pineapples.'"
I eagerly listened to each syllable as my mother pronounced each word clearly. So this was my first official day of learning how to read after attending my first day of school. No, I wasn't a chubby pre-schooler, nor was I a hyper kindergartner; in less than sixty days, I would blow out eleven candles on my birthday cake.
"I'm going to wash the dishes. I'll be back in a little bit to check on how you're getting along with the book." She gently touched my hair before she left the room.
I studied each sentence, flipping through the book and enjoying the pictures; not knowing how to read, I could only admire the talented drawings. I usually immersed myself in creating pictures of my own ever since I was about six or seven. I turned back to the first page of the book, which had been chosen by my special education teacher. I felt a tingling in my soul, the kind of tingling one feels in anticipation of something wonderful happening very soon.
Having been hospitalized for years between America and China for treatment of the severe juvenile rheumatoid arthritis that has made a home within my body since infancy, receiving education--the knowledge of life--for the very first time was a thrill for me; no longer was I lying on my hospital bed daydreaming about going to school and reading.
My eyes relished the sight of the words as I pronounced them aloud. I smiled to myself when I was able to read a complete sentence, then an entire paragraph.
A couple of hours flew by before my mother opened the door to my room, and I greeted her with a big grin. "I can read much of the book!" I declared.
I wondered, when I might catch up to those students who had had five years of schooling already. The words I had just learned were all that I knew. I had no idea from where rain comes or why we see a rainbow after a refreshing rain.
Wanting to learn as much as I could as quickly as possible, I absorbed all that was taught in class, and mostly self-taught myself how to read; like Cookie Monster, I devoured one book after another as though they were chocolate chip cookies, yet always hungered for more.
After about 180 days of attendance, my special education teacher told my mother: "She's ready to go to a regular sixth grade class, and she'll do very well in it."
Eight years later, I reminisced about those 180 days as I sat on the stage before hundreds of people. It was my high school graduation ceremony, and I was a student speaker who excitedly awaited my turn to speak.
My mother held the microphone for me when my turn arrived. I began:
"Good evening, my fellow graduates. My name is Shirley Cheng. It is certainly an honor in speaking to welcome and congratulate every one of you tonight! First, I would like to take this opportunity to thank those people who have made it possible for me to be here tonight: my beloved mom Juliet, (who is here beside me, holding the microphone), who has been giving me unwavering love, support, and encouragement; Mrs. Shapley, who took the time to personally administer the test to me; and every single teacher who has given me the treasure of knowledge. I have no words to describe how grand I feel right now, so I'm not even going to try. I have encountered numerous barriers in getting an education due to my physical disabilities, but I still strove to prevail, to achieve my heart's desire."
Several camera lights flashed before my eyes. The audience applauded when I shared with them my life story.
"Unfortunately, I lost my eyesight towards the end of my sophomore year in high school. So I received home-tutoring instead, but was unable to accumulate enough credits to get a regents high school diploma. Thus, I received a high school equivalency diploma instead, and for which I am very, very, very grateful! I took the GED test using cassette tapes and a tape recorder. I did everything in my head without seeing anything, including math calculations and graphs. I also recorded my essay on the tape recorder, and I scored over 3200."
Another round of applause broke out. When the noise died down, I continued.
"Well, all that's left to say now is that I am thankful to be here, knowing I can take the next step of my journey. I want to congratulate every one of you for having come this far with your ambitions. Give yourself a pat on the back, and know that whatever you have your heart set on, you shall achieve it, and no matter what hardship you may face, you shall prevail. Be strong, listen hard to the voice calling from your heart. Do what your heart desires, and if anything or anyone gets in your way, turn your head and go in another direction to achieve your goals. Thank you and have a great night all!"
I flashed the audience a big smile. I could barely hear my mother over the thunderous applause as she said, "They're all standing up!" Cameras flashed from every corner, bathing me in radiance.
After the speeches, the special recognition awards were handed out to ten students, including me, for scoring over 3,000 on the GED exam. "Your speech was great," commented the lady, while handing me my award. Then the audience cheered for each of the ninety-four students as they received their diplomas.
After the ceremony ended, several people, mostly parents from the audience, came up to me. "That's a wonderful speech. It was the best I've heard in a long time," remarked an official from the school district.
"Your speech touched me. It almost made me cry," commented an audience member.
More compliments flew my way as my mother pushed me out of the auditorium. A few people stretched out their hands for me to shake. "I would like to take your picture," said one gentleman. I gladly posed for the shot, my mind drifted back to those unforgettable 180 days.
Yes, those 180 days were truly special education; they opened the door to a whole new world for me. It wasn't just a moment's pleasure, but an everlasting treasure of self-fulfillment and endless opportunities to success. I smile each time I recollect those days and how far I have come, from learning to read an entire book for the first time to publishing my own books.
Letter to Niike
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 25, 2012:
A bird's egg contains nothing but liquid, yet by itself this develops into a beak, two eyes, and all the other parts, and the bird soars into the sky. We, too, are the eggs of ignorance, which are pitiful things, but when nurtured by the chanting of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, which is like the warmth of the mother bird, we develop the beak of the thirty-two features and the feathers of the eighty characteristics and are free to soar into the skies of the true aspect of all phenomena and the reality of all things.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 25, 2012:
A bird's egg contains nothing but liquid, yet by itself this develops into a beak, two eyes, and all the other parts, and the bird soars into the sky. We, too, are the eggs of ignorance, which are pitiful things, but when nurtured by the chanting of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, which is like the warmth of the mother bird, we develop the beak of the thirty-two features and the feathers of the eighty characteristics and are free to soar into the skies of the true aspect of all phenomena and the reality of all things.
Letter to Niike
Written to Niike Saemon-no-jo in February 1280
Letter to Akimoto
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 24, 2012:
The Great Teacher Nan-yüeh has stated, "If one sees a foe of the Lotus Sutra and yet fails to censure him, one becomes a slanderer of the Law and will fall into the hell of incessant suffering." Even a man of great wisdom, if he sees such a person and fails to speak out, will fall into the depths of the hell of incessant suffering, and as long as that hell shall endure, he will never escape.
Letter to Akimoto
Written Akimoto Taro Hyo-no-jo on January 27, 1280
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Think, Believe, Dream, and Dare
Spiritual Story by Unknown
An eight-year-old boy approached an old man in front of a wishing well, looked up into his eyes, and asked: "I understand you're a very wise man. I'd like to know the secret of life."
The old man looked down at the youngster and replied: "I've thought a lot in my lifetime, and the secret can be summed up in four words.
The first is think. Think about the values you wish to live your life by.
The second is believe. Believe in yourself based on the thinking you've done about the values you're going to live your life by.
The third is dream. Dream about the things that can be, based on your belief in yourself and the values you're going to live by.
The last is dare. Dare to make your dreams become reality, based on your belief in yourself and your values."
And with that, Walter E. Disney said to the little boy, "Think, Believe, Dream, and Dare."
An eight-year-old boy approached an old man in front of a wishing well, looked up into his eyes, and asked: "I understand you're a very wise man. I'd like to know the secret of life."
The old man looked down at the youngster and replied: "I've thought a lot in my lifetime, and the secret can be summed up in four words.
The first is think. Think about the values you wish to live your life by.
The second is believe. Believe in yourself based on the thinking you've done about the values you're going to live your life by.
The third is dream. Dream about the things that can be, based on your belief in yourself and the values you're going to live by.
The last is dare. Dare to make your dreams become reality, based on your belief in yourself and your values."
And with that, Walter E. Disney said to the little boy, "Think, Believe, Dream, and Dare."
The Teaching for the Latter Day
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 23, 2012:
Among my disciples, those who think themselves well-versed in Buddhism are the ones who make errors. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is the heart of the Lotus Sutra. It is like the soul of a person. To revere another teaching as its equal is to be like a consort who is married to two emperors, or who secretly commits adultery with a minister or a humble subject. It can only be a cause for disaster.
The Teaching for the Latter Day
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on April 1, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 23, 2012:
Among my disciples, those who think themselves well-versed in Buddhism are the ones who make errors. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is the heart of the Lotus Sutra. It is like the soul of a person. To revere another teaching as its equal is to be like a consort who is married to two emperors, or who secretly commits adultery with a minister or a humble subject. It can only be a cause for disaster.
The Teaching for the Latter Day
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on April 1, 1278
How Those Initially Aspiring to the Way Can Attain Buddhahood through the Lotus Sutra
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 22, 2012:
A good believer is one who does not depend upon persons of eminence nor despise those of humble station; who does not rely on the backing of superiors or look down on inferiors; who, not relying upon the opinions of others, upholds the Lotus Sutra among all the sutras. Such a person the Buddha has called the best of all people.
How Those Initially Aspiring to the Way Can Attain Buddhahood through the Lotus Sutra
Written to the lay nun Myoho in 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 22, 2012:
A good believer is one who does not depend upon persons of eminence nor despise those of humble station; who does not rely on the backing of superiors or look down on inferiors; who, not relying upon the opinions of others, upholds the Lotus Sutra among all the sutras. Such a person the Buddha has called the best of all people.
How Those Initially Aspiring to the Way Can Attain Buddhahood through the Lotus Sutra
Written to the lay nun Myoho in 1277
Saturday, March 17, 2012
The Tree of Life
Spiritual Story by Peter M. Espina Jr.
Somewhere in time, in the farthest region of Southeast Asia there was a small village where an old farmer lives. His name was Ripat. He was a virtuous man. Ripat used to plant vegetables, corns, bananas, pineapples, and coconut trees in his farm.
One day, Ripat left his house and went to a neighboring village to help plant trees following the municipal order of the mayor. Before he left his place he took the seed of “lo-ve” (the dialect word for coconut in the province) and went on his journey. After two days, Ripat arrived at the village and meet the council of elders. The wisest elder of the village asked Ripat why he brought with him the seed of coconut tree to the village. Ripat answered by telling a story:
When God created Paradise he also planted with it the tree of knowledge and the tree of life. Before God created the tree of life he took 3 cups of water from the river of life and protected it with a pure white edible flesh inside. Then, he put the edible flesh with life water inside a thick hard shell and protected it with fibrous husk yields coir. Then, it was called the seed of life.
After God made the seed of life he planted it in paradise where it grows and becomes the tree of life. The tree of life bears many fruits of its own kind just like the seed of life. Then, Ripat continues: The seed of life that I’m referring to is the same as the seed of “lo-ve” (also known as coconut fruit) that I brought with you. “God send his “love” to us in the form of flesh and blood and planted it on Mt. Calvary where it grows and bears fruits of millions around the world.”
Somewhere in time, in the farthest region of Southeast Asia there was a small village where an old farmer lives. His name was Ripat. He was a virtuous man. Ripat used to plant vegetables, corns, bananas, pineapples, and coconut trees in his farm.
One day, Ripat left his house and went to a neighboring village to help plant trees following the municipal order of the mayor. Before he left his place he took the seed of “lo-ve” (the dialect word for coconut in the province) and went on his journey. After two days, Ripat arrived at the village and meet the council of elders. The wisest elder of the village asked Ripat why he brought with him the seed of coconut tree to the village. Ripat answered by telling a story:
When God created Paradise he also planted with it the tree of knowledge and the tree of life. Before God created the tree of life he took 3 cups of water from the river of life and protected it with a pure white edible flesh inside. Then, he put the edible flesh with life water inside a thick hard shell and protected it with fibrous husk yields coir. Then, it was called the seed of life.
After God made the seed of life he planted it in paradise where it grows and becomes the tree of life. The tree of life bears many fruits of its own kind just like the seed of life. Then, Ripat continues: The seed of life that I’m referring to is the same as the seed of “lo-ve” (also known as coconut fruit) that I brought with you. “God send his “love” to us in the form of flesh and blood and planted it on Mt. Calvary where it grows and bears fruits of millions around the world.”
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 21, 2012:
What can we say, then, of persons who are devoting themselves to Buddhism? Surely they should not forget the debts of gratitude they owe to their parents, their teachers and their country. But if one intends to repay these great debts of gratitude, one can hope to do so only if one learns and masters Buddhism, becoming a person of wisdom.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 21, 2012:
What can we say, then, of persons who are devoting themselves to Buddhism? Surely they should not forget the debts of gratitude they owe to their parents, their teachers and their country. But if one intends to repay these great debts of gratitude, one can hope to do so only if one learns and masters Buddhism, becoming a person of wisdom.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
Letter to Akimoto
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 20, 2012:
To speak out without fearing others and without flinching before society—this is what the sutra means when it says, "We care nothing for our bodies or lives but are anxious only for the unsurpassed way." It is not that one does not recall the calumny, the staves and stones that were suffered by Bodhisattva Never Disparaging. It is not that one is unafraid of the world. It is just that the censure of the Lotus Sutra is even more severe.
Letter to Akimoto
Written to Akimoto Taro Hyo-no-jo on January 27, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 20, 2012:
To speak out without fearing others and without flinching before society—this is what the sutra means when it says, "We care nothing for our bodies or lives but are anxious only for the unsurpassed way." It is not that one does not recall the calumny, the staves and stones that were suffered by Bodhisattva Never Disparaging. It is not that one is unafraid of the world. It is just that the censure of the Lotus Sutra is even more severe.
Letter to Akimoto
Written to Akimoto Taro Hyo-no-jo on January 27, 1280
Friday, March 16, 2012
If you do not know your enemies, you will be deceived by them.
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 19, 2012:
Those who believe in the Lotus Sutra should beware of and guard themselves against the sutra's enemies. . . . If you do not know your enemies, you will be deceived by them.
Letter to Konichi-bo
Written to Konichi-bo in March 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 19, 2012:
Those who believe in the Lotus Sutra should beware of and guard themselves against the sutra's enemies. . . . If you do not know your enemies, you will be deceived by them.
Letter to Konichi-bo
Written to Konichi-bo in March 1276
On Omens
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 18, 2012:
The ten directions are the "environment," and living beings are "life." To illustrate, environment is like the shadow, and life, the body. Without the body no shadow can exist, and without life, no environment. In the same way, life is shaped by its environment.
On Omens
Written to Shijo Kingo in 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 18, 2012:
The ten directions are the "environment," and living beings are "life." To illustrate, environment is like the shadow, and life, the body. Without the body no shadow can exist, and without life, no environment. In the same way, life is shaped by its environment.
On Omens
Written to Shijo Kingo in 1275
Thursday, March 15, 2012
The Tree of Life
Spiritual Story by Peter M. Espina Jr.
Somewhere in time, in the farthest region of Southeast Asia there was a small village where an old farmer lives. His name was Ripat. He was a virtuous man. Ripat used to plant vegetables, corns, bananas, pineapples, and coconut trees in his farm.
One day, Ripat left his house and went to a neighboring village to help plant trees following the municipal order of the mayor. Before he left his place he took the seed of “lo-ve” (the dialect word for coconut in the province) and went on his journey. After two days, Ripat arrived at the village and meet the council of elders. The wisest elder of the village asked Ripat why he brought with him the seed of coconut tree to the village. Ripat answered by telling a story:
When God created Paradise he also planted with it the tree of knowledge and the tree of life. Before God created the tree of life he took 3 cups of water from the river of life and protected it with a pure white edible flesh inside. Then, he put the edible flesh with life water inside a thick hard shell and protected it with fibrous husk yields coir. Then, it was called the seed of life.
After God made the seed of life he planted it in paradise where it grows and becomes the tree of life. The tree of life bears many fruits of its own kind just like the seed of life. Then, Ripat continues: The seed of life that I’m referring to is the same as the seed of “lo-ve” (also known as coconut fruit) that I brought with you. “God send his “love” to us in the form of flesh and blood and planted it on Mt. Calvary where it grows and bears fruits of millions around the world.”
Somewhere in time, in the farthest region of Southeast Asia there was a small village where an old farmer lives. His name was Ripat. He was a virtuous man. Ripat used to plant vegetables, corns, bananas, pineapples, and coconut trees in his farm.
One day, Ripat left his house and went to a neighboring village to help plant trees following the municipal order of the mayor. Before he left his place he took the seed of “lo-ve” (the dialect word for coconut in the province) and went on his journey. After two days, Ripat arrived at the village and meet the council of elders. The wisest elder of the village asked Ripat why he brought with him the seed of coconut tree to the village. Ripat answered by telling a story:
When God created Paradise he also planted with it the tree of knowledge and the tree of life. Before God created the tree of life he took 3 cups of water from the river of life and protected it with a pure white edible flesh inside. Then, he put the edible flesh with life water inside a thick hard shell and protected it with fibrous husk yields coir. Then, it was called the seed of life.
After God made the seed of life he planted it in paradise where it grows and becomes the tree of life. The tree of life bears many fruits of its own kind just like the seed of life. Then, Ripat continues: The seed of life that I’m referring to is the same as the seed of “lo-ve” (also known as coconut fruit) that I brought with you. “God send his “love” to us in the form of flesh and blood and planted it on Mt. Calvary where it grows and bears fruits of millions around the world.”
To My Friends
March 14, 2012
Let's sincerely respect each person
and shine a light of encouragement
upon them.
Let's praise the dedicated struggles of our friends
who are working hard behind the scenes.
This is the SGI spirit.
Let's sincerely respect each person
and shine a light of encouragement
upon them.
Let's praise the dedicated struggles of our friends
who are working hard behind the scenes.
This is the SGI spirit.
Words of the Week
March 12, 2012
We will soon be holding discussion meetings
brimming with the spirit of the eternal vow of
"March 16" (Kosen-rufu Day).
Let's make a departure toward fresh victories.
Deepening our bonds with the spirit of
many in body, one in mind,
let's engage in dialogue for creating friendships
and spreading wide the light of happiness.
We will soon be holding discussion meetings
brimming with the spirit of the eternal vow of
"March 16" (Kosen-rufu Day).
Let's make a departure toward fresh victories.
Deepening our bonds with the spirit of
many in body, one in mind,
let's engage in dialogue for creating friendships
and spreading wide the light of happiness.
This is What I Heard
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 17, 2012:
Those who chant Myoho-renge-kyo [the title of the Lotus Sutra] even without understanding its meaning realize not only the heart of the Lotus Sutra, but also the "main cord," or essential principle of the Buddha's lifetime teachings.
"This is What I Heard"
Written to the lay priest Soya Jiro on November 28, 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 17, 2012:
Those who chant Myoho-renge-kyo [the title of the Lotus Sutra] even without understanding its meaning realize not only the heart of the Lotus Sutra, but also the "main cord," or essential principle of the Buddha's lifetime teachings.
"This is What I Heard"
Written to the lay priest Soya Jiro on November 28, 1277
On Establishing the Correct Teaching for the Peace of the Land
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 16, 2012:
I have pondered the matter carefully with what limited resources I possess, and have looked a little at the scriptures for an answer. The people of today all turn their backs upon what is right; to a person, they give their allegiance to evil. This is the reason that the benevolent deities have abandoned the nation and departed together, that sages leave and do not return. And in their stead devils and demons come, and disasters and calamities occur. I cannot keep silent on this matter. I cannot suppress my fears.
On Establishing the Correct Teaching for the Peace of the Land
Submitted to Hojo Tokiyori on July 16, 1260
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 16, 2012:
I have pondered the matter carefully with what limited resources I possess, and have looked a little at the scriptures for an answer. The people of today all turn their backs upon what is right; to a person, they give their allegiance to evil. This is the reason that the benevolent deities have abandoned the nation and departed together, that sages leave and do not return. And in their stead devils and demons come, and disasters and calamities occur. I cannot keep silent on this matter. I cannot suppress my fears.
On Establishing the Correct Teaching for the Peace of the Land
Submitted to Hojo Tokiyori on July 16, 1260
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
The Tree
Spiritual Story by Anonymous
Abbie held the leaf in one hand and rubbed it gently; her thumb skating over the smooth glossy surface, whilst her other fingers became nestled in the softer, fluffy underside. Just like me, she thought to herself. As she lent back against the trunk she steadied herself by pressing her palms on the bark. Furrowed with the wisdom of timeless maturity, just like him; she smiled.
Tipping her head skywards, her eyes scanned the mosaic of leaves, tracing the veins back to the petioles, flowing into the branches and finally back to the main tree trunk. She could remember, distinctly, the first time she had sat under this tree.
'Why does the tree have so many leaves?' a six-year-old Abbie had asked her father.
'So it can be big and strong,' he replied.
'But why not just one big leaf, why so many small ones, that's silly,' she snapped back.
'No darling, not silly, actually very sensible.'
Abbie lay on her back as her father's soft voice continued, 'Look, look up at all the leaves, what do you notice?'
She lay quite still for a moment, only her eyebrows moving as she searched desperately for an answer.
'There are lots of holes between the leaves,' she replied, triumphantly.
'Yes, and if you look above each hole what do you see?'
She sighed as she turned her attention back towards the canopy.
It was a minute or so before she answered him, 'Just a leaf higher up.'
'Yes, and if you look below each hole?' his tone was gentle and encouraging.
'A leaf lower down.'
'Yes…so, do you see there are lots of different levels of leaves, high up ones, middle ones and lower ones?'
Abbie did not feel her father had answered her initial question.
'Yes, but there would be no holes with one big leaf.'
Abbie's father smiled as he looked into his daughter's saucer like sky blue eyes.
'What is it that leaves need to look so green and alive, Abbie?'
'Sunlight.'
'Well done. So if we had one BIG leaf, could a leaf grow above it?'
'Well it could, but then sunlight couldn't reach our big leaf.'
'Okay, and could a leaf grow below it?'
'I don't think so, because there wouldn't be sunlight getting past our big leaf.'
'Okay. So…if we had a really big leaf on the tree it could probably only grow on it's own?'
'Yes.'
Abbie looked up at the leaves and twitched a few times before sighing, 'I still don't see why one big leaf isn't better than lots of little ones.'
Her father pointed up towards the canopy, 'All those holes allow leaves to grow at lots of different levels. Light can get through the holes and spaces between the levels. So…lots and lots of leaves can grow and enjoy the sunlight that lands on this tree.'
He turned to look at Abbie, allowing her to see his grey eyes sparkling in the sunlight, 'If we stuck all the little leaves together side by side, we could see it would make up a much bigger shape than your one big leaf could ever be.'
Abbie imagined pulling all the leaves off the tree and gluing them together into one big shape on the lawn.
'Okay, I think I can see that, so lots of little leaves are bigger than one big leaf,' she admitted, reluctantly.
'What else do you notice about the leaves?' her father pressed.
Abbie scanned the canopy again.
'Some of the leaves have been eaten by caterpillars.'
'What has that done to the leaves?'
'Left big holes in them.'
'And why might that not be a bad thing for the tree?'
Abbie tipped her head to one side as she looked at the holey leaves.
'Oh,' she squeaked with excitement, 'sunlight gets through the holes and leaves underneath can catch it!'
'Well spotted Abbie.'
'And if our one big leaf had a hole in it the sunlight would just get through and no leaf would get it, the tree couldn't use that sunlight to get bigger.'
'You are such a clever girl, my love.'
Abbie's father squeezed her hand.
'So you see, it's good that there are lots of different leaves, all with a job to do, older leaves, younger leaves. As some leaves become holey and can't work properly other leaves can help out, all the time the tree gets bigger and stronger.'
'Abby, darling,' a woman's voice called from the back porch, 'I'm off now, are you coming?'
'Coming!' Abbie shouted back as she pushed herself up from the base of the tree and ran towards the car in the driveway.
'Okay?' the woman asked as she sat down in the driver's seat.
Abbie took a breath, 'Yep,' she smiled, 'Yes, actually I'm great, mum.'
Her mother squeezed her leg affectionately.
'And work?' her mum asked.
'I'm upset, of course,' Abbie sighed, 'I didn't expect them to split the promotion three ways, and when they said I didn't have Ed's killer instinct, I was ready to quit…but three heads'll be better than one, hey?'
Her mother turned the key in the ignition.
'Have you got the peonies?'
'Yes.'
'Your father's favourite,' her mother sighed, ' all those petals crammed into one flower. I never quite understood it.'
Abby smiled, 'You need to spend some time under the tree, mum.'
Her mother looked at her quizzically as they turned right out of the driveway and headed for the cemetery.
Abbie held the leaf in one hand and rubbed it gently; her thumb skating over the smooth glossy surface, whilst her other fingers became nestled in the softer, fluffy underside. Just like me, she thought to herself. As she lent back against the trunk she steadied herself by pressing her palms on the bark. Furrowed with the wisdom of timeless maturity, just like him; she smiled.
Tipping her head skywards, her eyes scanned the mosaic of leaves, tracing the veins back to the petioles, flowing into the branches and finally back to the main tree trunk. She could remember, distinctly, the first time she had sat under this tree.
'Why does the tree have so many leaves?' a six-year-old Abbie had asked her father.
'So it can be big and strong,' he replied.
'But why not just one big leaf, why so many small ones, that's silly,' she snapped back.
'No darling, not silly, actually very sensible.'
Abbie lay on her back as her father's soft voice continued, 'Look, look up at all the leaves, what do you notice?'
She lay quite still for a moment, only her eyebrows moving as she searched desperately for an answer.
'There are lots of holes between the leaves,' she replied, triumphantly.
'Yes, and if you look above each hole what do you see?'
She sighed as she turned her attention back towards the canopy.
It was a minute or so before she answered him, 'Just a leaf higher up.'
'Yes, and if you look below each hole?' his tone was gentle and encouraging.
'A leaf lower down.'
'Yes…so, do you see there are lots of different levels of leaves, high up ones, middle ones and lower ones?'
Abbie did not feel her father had answered her initial question.
'Yes, but there would be no holes with one big leaf.'
Abbie's father smiled as he looked into his daughter's saucer like sky blue eyes.
'What is it that leaves need to look so green and alive, Abbie?'
'Sunlight.'
'Well done. So if we had one BIG leaf, could a leaf grow above it?'
'Well it could, but then sunlight couldn't reach our big leaf.'
'Okay, and could a leaf grow below it?'
'I don't think so, because there wouldn't be sunlight getting past our big leaf.'
'Okay. So…if we had a really big leaf on the tree it could probably only grow on it's own?'
'Yes.'
Abbie looked up at the leaves and twitched a few times before sighing, 'I still don't see why one big leaf isn't better than lots of little ones.'
Her father pointed up towards the canopy, 'All those holes allow leaves to grow at lots of different levels. Light can get through the holes and spaces between the levels. So…lots and lots of leaves can grow and enjoy the sunlight that lands on this tree.'
He turned to look at Abbie, allowing her to see his grey eyes sparkling in the sunlight, 'If we stuck all the little leaves together side by side, we could see it would make up a much bigger shape than your one big leaf could ever be.'
Abbie imagined pulling all the leaves off the tree and gluing them together into one big shape on the lawn.
'Okay, I think I can see that, so lots of little leaves are bigger than one big leaf,' she admitted, reluctantly.
'What else do you notice about the leaves?' her father pressed.
Abbie scanned the canopy again.
'Some of the leaves have been eaten by caterpillars.'
'What has that done to the leaves?'
'Left big holes in them.'
'And why might that not be a bad thing for the tree?'
Abbie tipped her head to one side as she looked at the holey leaves.
'Oh,' she squeaked with excitement, 'sunlight gets through the holes and leaves underneath can catch it!'
'Well spotted Abbie.'
'And if our one big leaf had a hole in it the sunlight would just get through and no leaf would get it, the tree couldn't use that sunlight to get bigger.'
'You are such a clever girl, my love.'
Abbie's father squeezed her hand.
'So you see, it's good that there are lots of different leaves, all with a job to do, older leaves, younger leaves. As some leaves become holey and can't work properly other leaves can help out, all the time the tree gets bigger and stronger.'
'Abby, darling,' a woman's voice called from the back porch, 'I'm off now, are you coming?'
'Coming!' Abbie shouted back as she pushed herself up from the base of the tree and ran towards the car in the driveway.
'Okay?' the woman asked as she sat down in the driver's seat.
Abbie took a breath, 'Yep,' she smiled, 'Yes, actually I'm great, mum.'
Her mother squeezed her leg affectionately.
'And work?' her mum asked.
'I'm upset, of course,' Abbie sighed, 'I didn't expect them to split the promotion three ways, and when they said I didn't have Ed's killer instinct, I was ready to quit…but three heads'll be better than one, hey?'
Her mother turned the key in the ignition.
'Have you got the peonies?'
'Yes.'
'Your father's favourite,' her mother sighed, ' all those petals crammed into one flower. I never quite understood it.'
Abby smiled, 'You need to spend some time under the tree, mum.'
Her mother looked at her quizzically as they turned right out of the driveway and headed for the cemetery.
On Consecrating an Image of Shakyamuni Buddha Made by Shijo Kingo
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 15, 2012:
I, Nichiren, am hated by the people of Japan. This is entirely due to the fact that the lord of Sagami regards me with animosity. I grant that the government has acted quite without reason, but even before I encountered my difficulties, I foresaw that troubles of this kind would occur, and I resolved that, whatever might happen to me in the future, I must not bear any hatred toward others. This determination has perhaps acted as a prayer, for I have been able to come safely through any number of trials.
On Consecrating an Image of Shakyamuni Buddha Made by Shijo Kingo
Written to Shijo Kingo on July 15, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 15, 2012:
I, Nichiren, am hated by the people of Japan. This is entirely due to the fact that the lord of Sagami regards me with animosity. I grant that the government has acted quite without reason, but even before I encountered my difficulties, I foresaw that troubles of this kind would occur, and I resolved that, whatever might happen to me in the future, I must not bear any hatred toward others. This determination has perhaps acted as a prayer, for I have been able to come safely through any number of trials.
On Consecrating an Image of Shakyamuni Buddha Made by Shijo Kingo
Written to Shijo Kingo on July 15, 1276
The Doctrine of Attaining Buddhahood in One's Present Form
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 14, 2012:
Outstanding Principles also declares: "Neither teacher nor disciples need undergo countless kalpas of austere practice in order to attain Buddhahood. Through the power of the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Law they can do so in their present form.". . . The purpose of [this passage] of commentary is to clarify that the attainment of Buddhahood in one's present form is limited to the Lotus Sutra alone.
The Doctrine of Attaining Buddhahood in One's Present Form
Written to Myoichi-nyo on July 14, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 14, 2012:
Outstanding Principles also declares: "Neither teacher nor disciples need undergo countless kalpas of austere practice in order to attain Buddhahood. Through the power of the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Law they can do so in their present form.". . . The purpose of [this passage] of commentary is to clarify that the attainment of Buddhahood in one's present form is limited to the Lotus Sutra alone.
The Doctrine of Attaining Buddhahood in One's Present Form
Written to Myoichi-nyo on July 14, 1280
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Spiritual Story by Remez Sasson
A teacher and his student were walking from one village to another, when they suddenly heard a roar behind them. Turning their gaze in the direction of the roar they saw a big tiger following them. The first thing the student wanted to do was to run away, but as he has been studying and practicing self-discipline, he was able to halt himself, waiting to see what his teacher was going to do.
"What shall we do Master?" Asked the student.
The teacher looked at the student and answered in a calm voice:
"There are several options. We can fill our minds with paralyzing fear so that we cannot move, and let the tiger do with us whatever pleases it. We can faint. We can run away, but then it will run after us. We can fight with it, but physically it is stronger than us."
"We can pray to god to save us. We can choose to influence the tiger with the power of our mind, if our concentration is strong enough. We can send it love. We can also concentrate and meditate on our inner power, and on the fact that we are one with the entire universe, including the tiger, and in this way influence its soul."
"Which option do you choose?"
"You are the Master. You tell me what to do. We haven't much time", responded the student.
The master turned his gaze fearlessly towards the tiger, emptied his mind from all thoughts, and entered samadhi (a kind of trance). In his consciousness he embraced everything in the universe including the tiger. In this deep meditation the consciousness of the teacher became one with consciousness of the tiger.
Meanwhile the student started to shiver with fear, as the tiger was already quite close, ready to make a leap at them. He was amazed at how his teacher could stay so calm and detached in the face of danger.
Meanwhile the teacher continued to meditate without fear. After a little while, the tiger gradually lowered its head and tail and went away.
The student asked his teacher in astonishment, "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just cleared all thoughts from my mind and united myself in spirit with the tiger. We became united in peace on the spiritual level. The tiger sensed the inner calmness, peace, and unity and felt no threat or need to express violence, and so walked away."
"When the mind is silent and calm, its peace is automatically transmitted to everything and everyone around, influencing them deeply", concluded the teacher.
A teacher and his student were walking from one village to another, when they suddenly heard a roar behind them. Turning their gaze in the direction of the roar they saw a big tiger following them. The first thing the student wanted to do was to run away, but as he has been studying and practicing self-discipline, he was able to halt himself, waiting to see what his teacher was going to do.
"What shall we do Master?" Asked the student.
The teacher looked at the student and answered in a calm voice:
"There are several options. We can fill our minds with paralyzing fear so that we cannot move, and let the tiger do with us whatever pleases it. We can faint. We can run away, but then it will run after us. We can fight with it, but physically it is stronger than us."
"We can pray to god to save us. We can choose to influence the tiger with the power of our mind, if our concentration is strong enough. We can send it love. We can also concentrate and meditate on our inner power, and on the fact that we are one with the entire universe, including the tiger, and in this way influence its soul."
"Which option do you choose?"
"You are the Master. You tell me what to do. We haven't much time", responded the student.
The master turned his gaze fearlessly towards the tiger, emptied his mind from all thoughts, and entered samadhi (a kind of trance). In his consciousness he embraced everything in the universe including the tiger. In this deep meditation the consciousness of the teacher became one with consciousness of the tiger.
Meanwhile the student started to shiver with fear, as the tiger was already quite close, ready to make a leap at them. He was amazed at how his teacher could stay so calm and detached in the face of danger.
Meanwhile the teacher continued to meditate without fear. After a little while, the tiger gradually lowered its head and tail and went away.
The student asked his teacher in astonishment, "What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just cleared all thoughts from my mind and united myself in spirit with the tiger. We became united in peace on the spiritual level. The tiger sensed the inner calmness, peace, and unity and felt no threat or need to express violence, and so walked away."
"When the mind is silent and calm, its peace is automatically transmitted to everything and everyone around, influencing them deeply", concluded the teacher.
On Offerings for Deceased Ancestors
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 13, 2012:
The Venerable Maudgalyayana put his faith in the Lotus Sutra, which is the greatest good there is, and thus not only did he himself attain Buddhahood, but his father and mother did so as well. And, amazing as it may seem, all the fathers and mothers of the preceding seven generations and the seven generations that followed, indeed, of countless lifetimes before and after, were able to become Buddhas.
On Offerings for Deceased Ancestors
Written to Jibu-bo Nichii's grandmother on July 13, 1279
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 13, 2012:
The Venerable Maudgalyayana put his faith in the Lotus Sutra, which is the greatest good there is, and thus not only did he himself attain Buddhahood, but his father and mother did so as well. And, amazing as it may seem, all the fathers and mothers of the preceding seven generations and the seven generations that followed, indeed, of countless lifetimes before and after, were able to become Buddhas.
On Offerings for Deceased Ancestors
Written to Jibu-bo Nichii's grandmother on July 13, 1279
The Origin of the Service for Deceased Ancestors
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 12, 2012:
When I think that I will surely eradicate these karmic impediments and in the future go to the pure land of Eagle Peak, though various grave persecutions fall on me like rain and boil up like clouds, since they are for the sake of the Lotus Sutra, even these sufferings do not seem like sufferings at all.
The Origin of the Service for Deceased Ancestors
Written to Shijo Kingo on July 12, 1271
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 12, 2012:
When I think that I will surely eradicate these karmic impediments and in the future go to the pure land of Eagle Peak, though various grave persecutions fall on me like rain and boil up like clouds, since they are for the sake of the Lotus Sutra, even these sufferings do not seem like sufferings at all.
The Origin of the Service for Deceased Ancestors
Written to Shijo Kingo on July 12, 1271
Monday, March 12, 2012
The Swing Set Fable
Spiritual Story by Unknown
Mr. Jones wanted to build his son a swing set. He slaved away each evening and grew tired and irritable causing concern for his wife.
"You're working so hard," she said. "Wasn't our neighbor, Mr. Williams, a carpenter when he was young? Couldn't you ask him for help?"
"But Mr. Williams has done enough work in his life. I wouldn't want to bother him."
So Mr. Jones kept working, until finally the swing set was finished, and he set it up in the backyard. A few days later, Mr. Jones went outside and found Mr. Williams gazing at the swing set.
"Hi, Mr. Williams. How do you like the new swing set?"
"Oh, it's wonderful. I built something like that for my son many years ago." His eyes looked sad, and Mr. Jones remembered that Mr. Williams' son had moved far away for a job.
"I wish you had told me you were building it," Mr. Williams said. "Your son is a good boy. I would have loved to help you do something nice for him."
They chatted for another minute, and Mr. Jones went inside, realizing for the first time that Mr. Williams was lonely.
Mr. Jones wanted to build his son a swing set. He slaved away each evening and grew tired and irritable causing concern for his wife.
"You're working so hard," she said. "Wasn't our neighbor, Mr. Williams, a carpenter when he was young? Couldn't you ask him for help?"
"But Mr. Williams has done enough work in his life. I wouldn't want to bother him."
So Mr. Jones kept working, until finally the swing set was finished, and he set it up in the backyard. A few days later, Mr. Jones went outside and found Mr. Williams gazing at the swing set.
"Hi, Mr. Williams. How do you like the new swing set?"
"Oh, it's wonderful. I built something like that for my son many years ago." His eyes looked sad, and Mr. Jones remembered that Mr. Williams' son had moved far away for a job.
"I wish you had told me you were building it," Mr. Williams said. "Your son is a good boy. I would have loved to help you do something nice for him."
They chatted for another minute, and Mr. Jones went inside, realizing for the first time that Mr. Williams was lonely.
Hell is the Land of Tranquil Light
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 11, 2012:
Neither the pure land nor hell exists outside ourselves; both lie only within one's own heart. Awakened to this truth, one is called a Buddha; deluded about it, one is called an ordinary person. The Lotus Sutra reveals this truth, and one who embraces the Lotus Sutra will realize that hell is itself the Land of Tranquil Light.
Hell is the Land of Tranquil Light
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu's mother on July 11, 1274
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 11, 2012:
Neither the pure land nor hell exists outside ourselves; both lie only within one's own heart. Awakened to this truth, one is called a Buddha; deluded about it, one is called an ordinary person. The Lotus Sutra reveals this truth, and one who embraces the Lotus Sutra will realize that hell is itself the Land of Tranquil Light.
Hell is the Land of Tranquil Light
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu's mother on July 11, 1274
Reply to the Lay Priest Takahashi
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 10, 2012:
Just as the Buddha's words in the sutra predict, the ruler grew hostile and the common people began to attack me. And because they treated me with enmity, heaven grew enraged, the sun and moon displayed great changes in their behavior, and huge comets appeared. The earth shook as though it would turn over, internecine strife broke out, and they were attacked by a foreign country. All happened just as the Buddha had predicted, and there is no doubt that I, Nichiren, am the votary of the Lotus Sutra.
Reply to the Lay Priest Takahashi
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on July 12, 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 10, 2012:
Just as the Buddha's words in the sutra predict, the ruler grew hostile and the common people began to attack me. And because they treated me with enmity, heaven grew enraged, the sun and moon displayed great changes in their behavior, and huge comets appeared. The earth shook as though it would turn over, internecine strife broke out, and they were attacked by a foreign country. All happened just as the Buddha had predicted, and there is no doubt that I, Nichiren, am the votary of the Lotus Sutra.
Reply to the Lay Priest Takahashi
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on July 12, 1275
The Benefits of practicing Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism
Spiritual story by wcy
Life have been smooth for the past years. My eldest son had gone to the fifty top university in the world to further his education. My youngest son is doing quite well in his studies. He got a partial scholarship for doing his A Levels. My wife works in a good company with a very good boss. As for me very happy with my present work.
What do I have to complaint? All my neighbours are quite OK except the house to my left is empty for about one year.
Suddenly there are activities next door. The 'new' neighbour is renovating his house. As a good neighbour I greeted him.
As time go by the renovation slowly took place. The renovation was so ridiculous that he broke all the Building Bye Laws. I approached the neighbour and just ignore me.
After discussing with my wife, we conclude that it is time to move on. My eldest son is oversea and my youngest will also be oversea in about two years' time, this is the time to move to a smaller house or condominium. Furthermore the jam to and from office for my wife is very bad. This gives us opportunity to discuss this matter and we have decided to sell our house as the house is too big for two us in two years' time. The traffic jam will going to be worse.
So we appointed a real estate agent to sell our house. Due to our good fortune the agent managed to find a buyer fast and willing to pay for the price we wanted.
We also found a completed condo which we liked.
Isn't this the wonderful 'work' of the Mystic Law?
An unpresent neighbour is a blessing in disguise. If not we will not even think about moving.
If we practice Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism faithfully daily, all problems will be a blessing in disguise.
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo
Life have been smooth for the past years. My eldest son had gone to the fifty top university in the world to further his education. My youngest son is doing quite well in his studies. He got a partial scholarship for doing his A Levels. My wife works in a good company with a very good boss. As for me very happy with my present work.
What do I have to complaint? All my neighbours are quite OK except the house to my left is empty for about one year.
Suddenly there are activities next door. The 'new' neighbour is renovating his house. As a good neighbour I greeted him.
As time go by the renovation slowly took place. The renovation was so ridiculous that he broke all the Building Bye Laws. I approached the neighbour and just ignore me.
After discussing with my wife, we conclude that it is time to move on. My eldest son is oversea and my youngest will also be oversea in about two years' time, this is the time to move to a smaller house or condominium. Furthermore the jam to and from office for my wife is very bad. This gives us opportunity to discuss this matter and we have decided to sell our house as the house is too big for two us in two years' time. The traffic jam will going to be worse.
So we appointed a real estate agent to sell our house. Due to our good fortune the agent managed to find a buyer fast and willing to pay for the price we wanted.
We also found a completed condo which we liked.
Isn't this the wonderful 'work' of the Mystic Law?
An unpresent neighbour is a blessing in disguise. If not we will not even think about moving.
If we practice Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism faithfully daily, all problems will be a blessing in disguise.
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, Nam-myoho-renge-kyo
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Star Thrower
Spiritual Story by Loren Eiseley
One day, a man was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach, he saw a young person reaching down to the sand, picking up something and very gently throwing it back into the sea. As he got closer, he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"
The young person paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish into the sea."
"Why are you throwing starfish into the sea?" he asked.
"The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in they'll die."
"But, don't you realize that there are miles of beach here and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young person listened politely. Then knelt down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said...
"Made a difference to this one."
One day, a man was walking along the shore. As he looked down the beach, he saw a young person reaching down to the sand, picking up something and very gently throwing it back into the sea. As he got closer, he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"
The young person paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish into the sea."
"Why are you throwing starfish into the sea?" he asked.
"The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in they'll die."
"But, don't you realize that there are miles of beach here and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young person listened politely. Then knelt down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said...
"Made a difference to this one."
The Embankments of Faith
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 9, 2012:
Strengthen your faith now more than ever. Anyone who teaches the principles of Buddhism to others is bound to incur hatred from men and women, priests and nuns. Let them say what they will. Entrust yourself to the golden teachings of the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha, T'ien-t'ai, Miao-lo, Dengyo, and Chang-an. This is what is signified by the expression, "practicing according to the Buddha's teachings."
The Embankments of Faith
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on September 3, 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 9, 2012:
Strengthen your faith now more than ever. Anyone who teaches the principles of Buddhism to others is bound to incur hatred from men and women, priests and nuns. Let them say what they will. Entrust yourself to the golden teachings of the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha, T'ien-t'ai, Miao-lo, Dengyo, and Chang-an. This is what is signified by the expression, "practicing according to the Buddha's teachings."
The Embankments of Faith
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on September 3, 1275
Reply to Tokimitsu
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 8, 2012:
Just as I was thinking that, even if I remained free from illness, I would surely die of starvation, the wheat that you sent arrived. It is more wonderful than gold and more precious than jewels. Rida's millet changed into a golden man. How, then, could Tokimitsu's wheat fail to turn into the characters of the Lotus Sutra? These characters of the Lotus Sutra will become Shakyamuni Buddha and then a pair of wings for your deceased father, flying and soaring to the pure land of Eagle Peak. On returning, they will cover your body and protect you.
Reply to Tokimitsu
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on July 8, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 8, 2012:
Just as I was thinking that, even if I remained free from illness, I would surely die of starvation, the wheat that you sent arrived. It is more wonderful than gold and more precious than jewels. Rida's millet changed into a golden man. How, then, could Tokimitsu's wheat fail to turn into the characters of the Lotus Sutra? These characters of the Lotus Sutra will become Shakyamuni Buddha and then a pair of wings for your deceased father, flying and soaring to the pure land of Eagle Peak. On returning, they will cover your body and protect you.
Reply to Tokimitsu
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on July 8, 1278
Saturday, March 10, 2012
The Spiritual TV Game Show
Spiritual Story by Larry McNeely
I believe I have come upon a wonderful idea for a new reality TV game show. It will be called, "Nothing." The object of the game is to wind up with nothing. Maybe I could shave my head, put in an earring or two, and host the show. On second thought, I would rather be a contestant. Actually, I have another idea for a "host." He would always be off-camera; the contestants would only hear his voice.
This show would be "open" to everyone; no age limit, no tryouts, no pre-screening of contestants; everyone would be eligible to play. There would be no flashing lights, buzzers, curtains to look behind, no pretty girls to co-host or open boxes, no band playing, and no studio audience. Players must be ready and willing to lose all their money and material possessions. Whoever winds up with nothing is the winner. There is no real time limit on the show; it ends when you do.
As you can see, this show is a little different than most game shows. It might even be a little difficult to find enough willing participants to play. But please, dear brother and dear sister; let's play this game together. Please forgive me; I haven't even told you about the Grand Prize. There will be multiple winners, and the Grand Prize will be eternal peace and joy!
I believe I have come upon a wonderful idea for a new reality TV game show. It will be called, "Nothing." The object of the game is to wind up with nothing. Maybe I could shave my head, put in an earring or two, and host the show. On second thought, I would rather be a contestant. Actually, I have another idea for a "host." He would always be off-camera; the contestants would only hear his voice.
This show would be "open" to everyone; no age limit, no tryouts, no pre-screening of contestants; everyone would be eligible to play. There would be no flashing lights, buzzers, curtains to look behind, no pretty girls to co-host or open boxes, no band playing, and no studio audience. Players must be ready and willing to lose all their money and material possessions. Whoever winds up with nothing is the winner. There is no real time limit on the show; it ends when you do.
As you can see, this show is a little different than most game shows. It might even be a little difficult to find enough willing participants to play. But please, dear brother and dear sister; let's play this game together. Please forgive me; I haven't even told you about the Grand Prize. There will be multiple winners, and the Grand Prize will be eternal peace and joy!
The Sons Pure Storehouse and Pure Eye
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 7, 2012:
Perhaps your deceased son has become a Buddha and, in order to guide his father and mother, has entered your hearts. The king Wonderful Adornment was an evil king. However, because his two sons, Pure Storehouse and Pure Eye, guided him to the way, he and his wife were both able to place their trust in the Lotus Sutra and become Buddhas. Mysteriously enough, your own circumstances are much the same.
The Sons Pure Storehouse and Pure Eye
Recipient unknown; written on July 7, 1280
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, July 7, 2012:
Perhaps your deceased son has become a Buddha and, in order to guide his father and mother, has entered your hearts. The king Wonderful Adornment was an evil king. However, because his two sons, Pure Storehouse and Pure Eye, guided him to the way, he and his wife were both able to place their trust in the Lotus Sutra and become Buddhas. Mysteriously enough, your own circumstances are much the same.
The Sons Pure Storehouse and Pure Eye
Recipient unknown; written on July 7, 1280
The Embankment of Faith
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 6, 2012:
Chang-an wrote, "If one befriends another person but lacks the mercy to correct him, one is in fact his enemy." The consequences of a grave offense are extremely difficult to erase. The most important thing is to continually strengthen our wish to benefit others.
The Embankment of Faith
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on September 3, 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, July 6, 2012:
Chang-an wrote, "If one befriends another person but lacks the mercy to correct him, one is in fact his enemy." The consequences of a grave offense are extremely difficult to erase. The most important thing is to continually strengthen our wish to benefit others.
The Embankment of Faith
Written to the lay nun Sennichi on September 3, 1275
On Prayer
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 5, 2012:
It is a rare thing to be born as a human being. And if, having been born as such, you do not do your best to distinguish between the correct doctrine and the incorrect so that in the future you may attain Buddhahood, then you are certainly not fulfilling your true worth as a human being.
On Prayer
Written to Sairen-bo in September 1272
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, July 5, 2012:
It is a rare thing to be born as a human being. And if, having been born as such, you do not do your best to distinguish between the correct doctrine and the incorrect so that in the future you may attain Buddhahood, then you are certainly not fulfilling your true worth as a human being.
On Prayer
Written to Sairen-bo in September 1272
The Selection of the Time
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 4, 2012:
Even if it seems that, because I was born in the ruler's domain, I follow him in my actions, I will never follow him in my heart.
The Selection of the Time
Written to Yui in 1275
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, July 4, 2012:
Even if it seems that, because I was born in the ruler's domain, I follow him in my actions, I will never follow him in my heart.
The Selection of the Time
Written to Yui in 1275
Thus Come One
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 3, 2012:
Since the Lotus Sutra defines our body as the Dharma body of a Thus Come One, our mind as the reward body of a Thus Come One, and our actions as the manifested body of a Thus Come One, all who uphold and believe in even a single phrase or verse of this sutra will be endowed with the benefits of these three bodies.
The One Essential Phrase
Written to the lay nun Myoho on July 3, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, July 3, 2012:
Since the Lotus Sutra defines our body as the Dharma body of a Thus Come One, our mind as the reward body of a Thus Come One, and our actions as the manifested body of a Thus Come One, all who uphold and believe in even a single phrase or verse of this sutra will be endowed with the benefits of these three bodies.
The One Essential Phrase
Written to the lay nun Myoho on July 3, 1278
Friday, March 9, 2012
The Sower and the Reaper
Spiritual Story by Chris Benjamin
One day, as the reaper went about his daily business of reaping what someone else had sown, he saw a man off in the far distance. Hoping against hope that today might be that long awaited special day, he said a silent prayer and took off running in the man's direction, dropping his sickle as he went. He never noticed that the plants were getting smaller and less mature along the way. He was too caught up in the moment and the hope that he had that today would be the day that he had waited for all his life.
After what seemed like an eternity, the reaper finally reached the man and as he caught his breath he saw for the first time what the other man had been doing all this time. He would reach into a large sack at his side and pull out what appeared to be seeds and then he would scatter them all around. He did this over and over.
"Oh thank you God," the reaper said out loud and at this the seed scattering man stopped his seed scattering and noticed the reaper for the first time.
"Hello, are you the sower?" The reaper asked slowly, deliberately.
"Yes and it has taken you long enough, hasn't it? I've expected you for a long while now," said the sower. "What took you so long?"
"I just now saw you for the first time. How could I have gotten here quicker?"
"You've always had the faith and the vision, but you have lacked the trust that God requires. Even now a question burns in your soul. Ask it and be done."
"Very well since you insist, I will. Why sower, why do you plant here and there and not everywhere equally? Why is there a patch of fruit here and there, but not everywhere? Why can't we sow and harvest equally all over?"
"You saw me just now, but yet your eyes tell you nothing. I have always tossed the seeds far and wide. Just as much here as there. I have sown along the path and on rocky ground and among thorns and on good soil too. What you have not seen is that those along the path are often trampled on and eaten by birds and that those seeds that fell on rocky soil had no root and soon withered away and that the seeds that were tossed amongst the thorns were soon choked out by the brambles. All that you have seen is the crop that is left from the good soil."
"Well then," began the reaper, "why shouldn't all soil be made equally? Wouldn't that be more fair?"
"And then you would make yourself God, for that is what you are saying. You know how to make everything equal and fair and right and God doesn't. Isn't that what you are saying?"
"No, I mean, why is it like this?" The reaper pleaded now trying to understand.
"God has a reason for everything. There are reasons for every orphan, every addict, every victim, every crime and every suicide. Perhaps the reason that bad things happen is so that good things have a meaning, but only God knows and only God can know. It isn't simply beyond our understanding, if we somehow could know, it would damage creation by taking away from the glory that belongs only to God. And God forbid that that should ever happen."
"Now come on," continues the sower in a more somber tone, "we have work to do.
One day, as the reaper went about his daily business of reaping what someone else had sown, he saw a man off in the far distance. Hoping against hope that today might be that long awaited special day, he said a silent prayer and took off running in the man's direction, dropping his sickle as he went. He never noticed that the plants were getting smaller and less mature along the way. He was too caught up in the moment and the hope that he had that today would be the day that he had waited for all his life.
After what seemed like an eternity, the reaper finally reached the man and as he caught his breath he saw for the first time what the other man had been doing all this time. He would reach into a large sack at his side and pull out what appeared to be seeds and then he would scatter them all around. He did this over and over.
"Oh thank you God," the reaper said out loud and at this the seed scattering man stopped his seed scattering and noticed the reaper for the first time.
"Hello, are you the sower?" The reaper asked slowly, deliberately.
"Yes and it has taken you long enough, hasn't it? I've expected you for a long while now," said the sower. "What took you so long?"
"I just now saw you for the first time. How could I have gotten here quicker?"
"You've always had the faith and the vision, but you have lacked the trust that God requires. Even now a question burns in your soul. Ask it and be done."
"Very well since you insist, I will. Why sower, why do you plant here and there and not everywhere equally? Why is there a patch of fruit here and there, but not everywhere? Why can't we sow and harvest equally all over?"
"You saw me just now, but yet your eyes tell you nothing. I have always tossed the seeds far and wide. Just as much here as there. I have sown along the path and on rocky ground and among thorns and on good soil too. What you have not seen is that those along the path are often trampled on and eaten by birds and that those seeds that fell on rocky soil had no root and soon withered away and that the seeds that were tossed amongst the thorns were soon choked out by the brambles. All that you have seen is the crop that is left from the good soil."
"Well then," began the reaper, "why shouldn't all soil be made equally? Wouldn't that be more fair?"
"And then you would make yourself God, for that is what you are saying. You know how to make everything equal and fair and right and God doesn't. Isn't that what you are saying?"
"No, I mean, why is it like this?" The reaper pleaded now trying to understand.
"God has a reason for everything. There are reasons for every orphan, every addict, every victim, every crime and every suicide. Perhaps the reason that bad things happen is so that good things have a meaning, but only God knows and only God can know. It isn't simply beyond our understanding, if we somehow could know, it would damage creation by taking away from the glory that belongs only to God. And God forbid that that should ever happen."
"Now come on," continues the sower in a more somber tone, "we have work to do.
The One Essential Phrase
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 2, 2012:
The sutra teaches that women, evil men, and those in the realms of animals and Hell—in fact, all the beings of the Ten Worlds—can attain Buddhahood in their present form. [This is an incomparably greater wonder than] fire being produced by a stone taken from the bottom of a river, or a lantern lighting up a place that has been dark for a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand years. If even the most ordinary things of this world are such wonders, then how much more wondrous is the power of the Buddhist Law!
The One Essential Phrase
Written to the lay nun Myoho on July 3, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, July 2, 2012:
The sutra teaches that women, evil men, and those in the realms of animals and Hell—in fact, all the beings of the Ten Worlds—can attain Buddhahood in their present form. [This is an incomparably greater wonder than] fire being produced by a stone taken from the bottom of a river, or a lantern lighting up a place that has been dark for a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand years. If even the most ordinary things of this world are such wonders, then how much more wondrous is the power of the Buddhist Law!
The One Essential Phrase
Written to the lay nun Myoho on July 3, 1278
Many in Body, One in Mind
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 1, 2012:
Though evils may be numerous, they cannot prevail over a single great truth, just as many raging fires are quenched by a single shower of rain. This principle also holds true with Nichiren and his followers.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, July 1, 2012:
Though evils may be numerous, they cannot prevail over a single great truth, just as many raging fires are quenched by a single shower of rain. This principle also holds true with Nichiren and his followers.
Many in Body, One in Mind
Written to the lay priest Takahashi on August 6, year unknown
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, June 30, 2012:
Because I have expounded this teaching, I have been exiled and almost killed. As the saying goes: "Good advice grates on the ear." But still I am not discouraged.
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Written to Soya Jiro Hyoe-no-jo Kyoshin on August 3, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, June 30, 2012:
Because I have expounded this teaching, I have been exiled and almost killed. As the saying goes: "Good advice grates on the ear." But still I am not discouraged.
The Essentials for Attaining Buddhahood
Written to Soya Jiro Hyoe-no-jo Kyoshin on August 3, 1276
Thursday, March 8, 2012
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, June 29, 2012:
If one hopes to study and master Buddhism, then one cannot do so without devoting time to the task.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, June 29, 2012:
If one hopes to study and master Buddhism, then one cannot do so without devoting time to the task.
On Repaying Debts of Gratitude
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo on July 21, 1276
The Izu Exile
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, June 28, 2012:
The fourth volume of the Lotus Sutra states, "[I will send...] men and women of pure faith, to offer alms to the teachers of the Law." The meaning of this sutra passage is that the heavenly gods and benevolent deities will assume various forms such as those of men and women, and present offerings to help the persons who practice the Lotus Sutra. There can be no doubt that this refers to you and your wife being born as a man and woman, and making offerings to Nichiren, the teacher of the Law.
The Izu Exile
Written to Funamori Yasaburo on June 27, 1261
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, June 28, 2012:
The fourth volume of the Lotus Sutra states, "[I will send...] men and women of pure faith, to offer alms to the teachers of the Law." The meaning of this sutra passage is that the heavenly gods and benevolent deities will assume various forms such as those of men and women, and present offerings to help the persons who practice the Lotus Sutra. There can be no doubt that this refers to you and your wife being born as a man and woman, and making offerings to Nichiren, the teacher of the Law.
The Izu Exile
Written to Funamori Yasaburo on June 27, 1261
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Happiness in this World
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, June 27, 2012:
Though worldly troubles may arise, never let them disturb you. No one can avoid problems, not even sages or worthies. Drink sake only at home with your wife, and chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy. Regard both suffering and joy as facts of life, and continue chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, no matter what happens. How could this be anything other than the boundless joy of the Law?
Happiness in this World
Written to Shijo Kingo on June 27, 1276
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, June 27, 2012:
Though worldly troubles may arise, never let them disturb you. No one can avoid problems, not even sages or worthies. Drink sake only at home with your wife, and chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Suffer what there is to suffer, enjoy what there is to enjoy. Regard both suffering and joy as facts of life, and continue chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, no matter what happens. How could this be anything other than the boundless joy of the Law?
Happiness in this World
Written to Shijo Kingo on June 27, 1276
The Treatment of Illness
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, June 26, 2012:
This is the first time that the fundamental darkness has erupted in the lives of ordinary people caught in the illusions of thought and desire. Even if they pray to the gods, the Buddha, or the Lotus Sutra, these calamities will only be aggravated. But it is different when the votary of the Lotus Sutra offers prayers to the essential teaching of the Lotus Sutra. In the final analysis, unless we succeed in demonstrating that this teaching is supreme, these disasters will continue unabated.
The Treatment of Illness
Written to Toki Jonin on June 26, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, June 26, 2012:
This is the first time that the fundamental darkness has erupted in the lives of ordinary people caught in the illusions of thought and desire. Even if they pray to the gods, the Buddha, or the Lotus Sutra, these calamities will only be aggravated. But it is different when the votary of the Lotus Sutra offers prayers to the essential teaching of the Lotus Sutra. In the final analysis, unless we succeed in demonstrating that this teaching is supreme, these disasters will continue unabated.
The Treatment of Illness
Written to Toki Jonin on June 26, 1278
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
An Outline of the "Entrustment" and Other Chapters
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, June 25, 2012:
There are trails in the sky where birds fly, but people cannot recognize them. There are paths in the sea along which fish swim, but people cannot perceive them. All people and things of the four continents are reflected in the moon without a single exception, but people cannot see them. But they are visible to the heavenly eye. In like manner, ordinary people cannot see that the "Treasure Tower" chapter exists within the body of Lady Nichinyo, but Shakyamuni, Many Treasures, and the Buddhas of the ten directions perceive it. I, Nichiren, also presume this to be the case.
An Outline of the "Entrustment" and Other Chapters
Written to Nichinyo on June 25, 1278
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, June 25, 2012:
There are trails in the sky where birds fly, but people cannot recognize them. There are paths in the sea along which fish swim, but people cannot perceive them. All people and things of the four continents are reflected in the moon without a single exception, but people cannot see them. But they are visible to the heavenly eye. In like manner, ordinary people cannot see that the "Treasure Tower" chapter exists within the body of Lady Nichinyo, but Shakyamuni, Many Treasures, and the Buddhas of the ten directions perceive it. I, Nichiren, also presume this to be the case.
An Outline of the "Entrustment" and Other Chapters
Written to Nichinyo on June 25, 1278
Rely on the Law and not upon persons
Daily Wisdom
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, June 24, 2012:
Everyone believes in those Buddhist teachers who were revered in their own time. But the Buddha enjoins us in the Nirvana Sutra as his final instruction, "Rely on the Law and not upon persons." The Buddha taught us to rely on the sutras if the Buddhist teachers should be in error. You say those teachers could not possibly be in error, but between the Buddha's golden words and your personal opinion, I am committed to the former.
The Letter of Petition from Yorimoto
Written on behalf of Shijo Kingo on June 25, 1277
From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, June 24, 2012:
Everyone believes in those Buddhist teachers who were revered in their own time. But the Buddha enjoins us in the Nirvana Sutra as his final instruction, "Rely on the Law and not upon persons." The Buddha taught us to rely on the sutras if the Buddhist teachers should be in error. You say those teachers could not possibly be in error, but between the Buddha's golden words and your personal opinion, I am committed to the former.
The Letter of Petition from Yorimoto
Written on behalf of Shijo Kingo on June 25, 1277
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Roller Coaster of Life
Spiritual Story by Janet Hobbs
I think I rode one of the scariest roller-coasters possible when my infant son was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.
The heavy handed specialist gave us no hope at all. There was nothing they could do, he informed us. He thought John had a year at the outside.
I went home and in a kind of timeless pause where the infinite and the material meet, I decided that if I believed the doctors, John would feel it in my milk and would give up.
Who wouldn't?
I saw the choice not to believe them and instead to put my faith in John. Maybe I could fuel his decision to live.
All that hugely powerful, maternal passion went into this decision. I willed him to get better. I held him. I nursed him. I loved him with my full being. I realized that before when I had loved people, I had loved them with about 10 per cent of my being. John got 100 percent and I got a lesson in what love really is.
We needed a miracle here and I received several. First, my dad came in behind me, believing too, that John would live. He was the one person who stood with me, trusting in something intangible when the obvious data pointed the other way. (Others tended to think I was just in denial...)
The miracle of it was that while growing up, my father had caused me enormous pain. So for him to come alongside me at this time, in a place so deep in our hearts, was a Godsend.
Another miracle was more of a sequence.
It started when two pictures of John fell off the wall and the glass inside both of them broke. A few days later, one of his Peter Rabit plates fell and smashed. Then, very soon after that, a small child came over and while her mother and I were talking, the little girl got a hammer and crushed a beloved music box I had bought for John.
I had bought the box at the onset of John's illness to cheer us all up. It had turned into a symbol of eventual triumph.
And now it was smashed. And so fragile was my faith that its demise smashed our lives too. The bottom just fell out.
Life now just seemed so stark and unloving. God just seemed like a bad joke. I could barely stand to be alive, could hardly bare the agony of it. The only thing that kept me going was John who needed my love, hugs and adoration and I gave myself to him 100 per cent.
Even if God didn't exist, I could still believe John was going to get better. If the Great Spirit's love didn't exist, at least mine did.
It took me several weeks to feel my love strong again. I was still scared and things looked stark but my love flowed utterly to John. Then one day, I had to go to the store. Depressed and worried though I was, I followed an unusual impulse into a nearby gift shop.
There on a shelf was a single music box, identical to the other one. That was truly amazing as I had bought it overseas. And don't you know it was on sale at half price!
I bought it. I took it as a signal of the Great Spirit's assurance that the child would live which he did, despite such a terminal diagnosis.
(Maybe doctors should ask mothers what they think more.)
This brings me to the third and biggest miracle of all. Two days after I had made that crucial decision to ignore the doctor's death sentence, my mother, plus an incredible series of coincidences, put me in touch with a famous healer named Olgas Worral.
Olga Worral, then a woman in her 80's, had once lost her infant twins to dysentery and now worked with sick children, sending compassion to ailing youngsters all over the world. We spoke. Olga asked for no payment. Nor did she need to touch or meet John to help. She just needed to know his full name. Then she asked me to put my hands on him every night at 7pm to ground the compassion she was sending.
I knew Olga was gold.
The cancer clinic monitored John's white cell count, checking him once every two weeks. We had watched it climb steadily.
When John was 10 months, it hit 60,000, six times higher than normal. The cell count left his skin so white, it was almost transparent. He hardly moved or made any noise. He was a sick baby.
We started working with Olga. The next checkup showed the count had dropped by 1,000 and that John had gained a pound in weight. The time after that, his blood count fell another 1,500 and he had gained another pound.
This continued. Gradually over the next three years, John's white blood cell count fell to normal and he began to grow and flourish.
The doctors didn't say much.
I phoned Olga regularly to thank her and heard that people seldom let her know how their loved ones fared. Sometimes they'd phone up three years later.
'Thanks for helping Uncle Bill. He's fully recovered.. Can you help Aunt Sara now?'
She would.
Much later, after Olga had died, I read an article in which she'd participated in an experiment which featured an dysentery culture and penicillin. When she spent time in a laboratory, maybe an hour or so a day, the penicillin took 10 times as long to kill the bacteria as usual.
I think Olga embodied so much of her own godself, her mere presence strengthened all of life, even the dysentery bacteria.
But what impressed me was that when she gazed into the petri dish, at the same type of bacteria, that had killed her children some 50 years earlier, her capacity for unconditiional love was so strong, her comment was:
"Cute little critters, aren't they?"
My hat off to her.
I think I rode one of the scariest roller-coasters possible when my infant son was diagnosed with terminal leukemia.
The heavy handed specialist gave us no hope at all. There was nothing they could do, he informed us. He thought John had a year at the outside.
I went home and in a kind of timeless pause where the infinite and the material meet, I decided that if I believed the doctors, John would feel it in my milk and would give up.
Who wouldn't?
I saw the choice not to believe them and instead to put my faith in John. Maybe I could fuel his decision to live.
All that hugely powerful, maternal passion went into this decision. I willed him to get better. I held him. I nursed him. I loved him with my full being. I realized that before when I had loved people, I had loved them with about 10 per cent of my being. John got 100 percent and I got a lesson in what love really is.
We needed a miracle here and I received several. First, my dad came in behind me, believing too, that John would live. He was the one person who stood with me, trusting in something intangible when the obvious data pointed the other way. (Others tended to think I was just in denial...)
The miracle of it was that while growing up, my father had caused me enormous pain. So for him to come alongside me at this time, in a place so deep in our hearts, was a Godsend.
Another miracle was more of a sequence.
It started when two pictures of John fell off the wall and the glass inside both of them broke. A few days later, one of his Peter Rabit plates fell and smashed. Then, very soon after that, a small child came over and while her mother and I were talking, the little girl got a hammer and crushed a beloved music box I had bought for John.
I had bought the box at the onset of John's illness to cheer us all up. It had turned into a symbol of eventual triumph.
And now it was smashed. And so fragile was my faith that its demise smashed our lives too. The bottom just fell out.
Life now just seemed so stark and unloving. God just seemed like a bad joke. I could barely stand to be alive, could hardly bare the agony of it. The only thing that kept me going was John who needed my love, hugs and adoration and I gave myself to him 100 per cent.
Even if God didn't exist, I could still believe John was going to get better. If the Great Spirit's love didn't exist, at least mine did.
It took me several weeks to feel my love strong again. I was still scared and things looked stark but my love flowed utterly to John. Then one day, I had to go to the store. Depressed and worried though I was, I followed an unusual impulse into a nearby gift shop.
There on a shelf was a single music box, identical to the other one. That was truly amazing as I had bought it overseas. And don't you know it was on sale at half price!
I bought it. I took it as a signal of the Great Spirit's assurance that the child would live which he did, despite such a terminal diagnosis.
(Maybe doctors should ask mothers what they think more.)
This brings me to the third and biggest miracle of all. Two days after I had made that crucial decision to ignore the doctor's death sentence, my mother, plus an incredible series of coincidences, put me in touch with a famous healer named Olgas Worral.
Olga Worral, then a woman in her 80's, had once lost her infant twins to dysentery and now worked with sick children, sending compassion to ailing youngsters all over the world. We spoke. Olga asked for no payment. Nor did she need to touch or meet John to help. She just needed to know his full name. Then she asked me to put my hands on him every night at 7pm to ground the compassion she was sending.
I knew Olga was gold.
The cancer clinic monitored John's white cell count, checking him once every two weeks. We had watched it climb steadily.
When John was 10 months, it hit 60,000, six times higher than normal. The cell count left his skin so white, it was almost transparent. He hardly moved or made any noise. He was a sick baby.
We started working with Olga. The next checkup showed the count had dropped by 1,000 and that John had gained a pound in weight. The time after that, his blood count fell another 1,500 and he had gained another pound.
This continued. Gradually over the next three years, John's white blood cell count fell to normal and he began to grow and flourish.
The doctors didn't say much.
I phoned Olga regularly to thank her and heard that people seldom let her know how their loved ones fared. Sometimes they'd phone up three years later.
'Thanks for helping Uncle Bill. He's fully recovered.. Can you help Aunt Sara now?'
She would.
Much later, after Olga had died, I read an article in which she'd participated in an experiment which featured an dysentery culture and penicillin. When she spent time in a laboratory, maybe an hour or so a day, the penicillin took 10 times as long to kill the bacteria as usual.
I think Olga embodied so much of her own godself, her mere presence strengthened all of life, even the dysentery bacteria.
But what impressed me was that when she gazed into the petri dish, at the same type of bacteria, that had killed her children some 50 years earlier, her capacity for unconditiional love was so strong, her comment was:
"Cute little critters, aren't they?"
My hat off to her.
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