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

Compassionate Fists

Lucia Rijker grew up in Amsterdam. She learned kickboxing and ultimately fought her way to multiple titles as an international champion. She achieved fame, financial success, and traveled the world, learning about boxing and other cultures. She had no life outside of her career.
A friend from England visited her in Amsterdam and brought her to her first Buddhist discussion meeting. At first, Lucia made fun of chanting, but as her friend taught her gongyo and Buddhist concepts, she realized that "it was the first time that someone gave me something without wanting anything in return."

At that time, the Gohonzon was not available, so she chanted three hours a day to a wall and saw immediate results.

She came to America for a vacation and was able to receive her own Gohonzon.

After escaping serious injury in a major car accident she was forced to look at herself. She said: "I had all this talent and capability and I wasn't using it. As Nichiren Daishonin says, 'A sword is useless in the hands of a coward.'" At this point, she knew what she wanted to do — she found work as a trainer and kickboxing teacher.

A promoter noticed her and offered to mold her into a female Mike Tyson. She turned him down. She explains: "I stand for something. I'm becoming a strong woman who will set people free by what I'm doing. My words are worth nothing if I let someone take my soul and replace it with his own. Now I'm about to have it all — money and everything — on my own terms. [She is scheduled for several pay-per-view bouts.] Because I was patient enough to wait until it came to me."

Professional boxing is full of "trash talk" with one fighter pitted against another, but Lucia says: "No matter what is said by others, I respect all my opponents; as Buddhism teaches, the only way to prove my true strength is to defeat a strong opponent."

Lucia's will is to empower and liberate people through her boxing, not to cause pain or glorify violence.

Is she ever afraid? "Yes." She says: "Fear is natural and important because it make me go deep within myself to find my real strength."

[A more complete version of this experience is on page 9 of the October 17, 1997, World Tribune.]

This Buddhism has changed my life.

This Buddhism has changed my life.

This is an easy one.

I had inadvertently been searching for a lifetime; answers to questions on why we are here and “What is the purpose” ever since I can remember. My life was in shambles when I came into this practice. No self esteem, hopes dreams or ambitions. I had a life of disappointment and disillusion. Expectations and disappointments for 44 long and disenchanted years. When I started chanting and praying for others and myself, I had an “Opening of the eyes”.

I always wondered why I came into existence. “Why was I here, Why was my life such a mess”? I always relied on outside forces to generate my happiness and well-being, which was obviously not working. I never realized the power to change myself and my life was within me the whole time; that was until I came to know this practice. My purpose in life is to help others. Simple. That is my destiny and every day I chant for the happiness of others, I discover what my own happiness is all about. My life-long questions about why I am here are answered. The questions we all have are answered. We are all here to help each other.

I can experience happiness in this lifetime and had the power to change myself and my life. I had the power. It was there all along. No one else was ever in control of my destiny. It was me. That freed me from the temptation of resentment toward others and my life condition. I am truly free now. What I do is all up to me. I have been on a journey to forgive and take back my power. It was much easier than I had imagined. Thanks to this practice.
As a child, I had danced around with this notion. I wanted to help people and animals. I chose a profession that did just that as an adult. Some where along the way; I lost my idealistic ambitions. I saw first hand what other people can do to other people. It was sad and scary. I lived my life in such a way; that reflected those experiences. I was in EMS the first half of my adult life. Between my career choice and my personal life, I suffered. I lost myself and my very soul.

I had come from an alcoholic/addicted family. Mostly male role models. Therefore I chose similar traits in all 4 of my marriages. I was angry and resentful after each one of them. Some were abusive and some were just downright dysfunctional. I also became dysfunctional. My children, as they got older, did not understand what I had been going through and were distant. My very abusive second husband took my middle child and disappeared. I thought I would never see him again. Those were my darkest days. I was extremely angry and resentful. I started drinking a lot myself and tried to hide my pain. More so since he took my child from me. I went through years of darkness. I hated life and hated myself for allowing this to happen. I drank more and went through a few more destructive relationships, all the while, telling myself and others; it was someone else’s fault. God was punishing me, I was cursed. Some where along the way, I was introduced to Buddhism. I shunned it at first. I had no knowledge of what it was about and I shunned it. A friend came into my chaotic life and tried to show me a better way. I disregarded it. Several years later, here I am again. Once again, introduced with this Buddhism. I was beaten down at this point and felt like life was slipping away from me. I could look into it and do my research to see if this could be a possibility. This is when I had my awakening.
After I started chanting; and still leery of the notion of religion, since God had cursed me with such a tormented life, my middle son, after 15 long years contacted my oldest son. He was looking for his siblings. My oldest called me that night and told me Josh had sent him a letter asking about him and his younger sister Katlyn. He read the letter to me, reluctantly, because he had been brainwashed to believe I was the devil. But I convinced him to read it to me anyway. He condemned me in the letter. We were so excited to hear from him it didn’t matter.
He left his contact info in the letter. My oldest convinced me I should call the number he gave. So I did. He was less than happy with me calling and would not talk to me. I was so happy at the time that I heard his voice, I didn’t care.

He sent me a nasty letter. I thought this was the end of the world. My long lost son hates me and has been convinced by his father I was Satan and he didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I went through all the same emotions I felt when he took him away from me, all over again. I was hurting and depressed. But like I have been told from the beginning, which I didn’t understand at the time, chant for the other person’s happiness. I did it. Repeatedly. All those negative feelings about the ex and how bad he hurt me diminished. I started to “get it”.

Christmas Day, my long lost son who was brain-washed, was on the other line. I couldn’t believe it! He wanted to talk to me! I was elated! We talked for about an hour. I hadn’t talked to him since 1993 when he was two years old, his father dangling him in front of me stating I would never see him again, while he was crying for me. I thought he was lost forever. It was the worst day of my life. I felt like I died that day and the days to follow. My precious angel with someone who beat me regularly and now wanted to have the ultimate control and was taking my son from me. At that moment, I hated him. More than anytime before. I hated him. I thought this was unforgivable. This went on for years. I had no idea where my son went.

My son called a few more times. I chanted and prayed that I would learn how to forgive and chanted for my ex.’s happiness. I did forgive him.

The only thing I ever wanted was to talk to my son. Those are the things that matter most in life. That was the beginning of my benefits since starting this practice. I have had great benefits but my family communicating again is the most special benefit I can imagine. .

I have been learning about how to grasp life by the horns and run with it. I learned how to tap into this potential I have and appreciate what I have today. Not fear the future or regret the past. The gift we are given today is what counts. I can look back at the past with gratitude and know without a shadow of a doubt that my life is what I make it. I have choices to make everyday. I can choose to appreciate what “is” and not worry about what could be. That is freedom. That is true freedom. I have been searching for my freedom all this time. I am free to express myself and free to choose whether I want to be happy, sad, content, or forgiving, which is freeing in and of itself. I have the power. That power, I have accessed through this Buddhist practice. I have found myself and love the life I have today. I can reflect back on the greatest assets in this life. My family and the ones I chose to be with.


I have courage. I didn’t gain this courage until I started chanting. This experience I have just shared was something I didn’t have the courage to talk about anymore. There was so much pain involved; I just stopped talking about it. Today is today. I am courageous today thanks to this practice.

I have become very close with my oldest son. He is in college studying to be a Geophysicist. We spend hours talking on the phone. My middle son contacts me once in a while. That’s ok. He is working and going to school and has a girlfriend. He and my oldest son talk regularly. My youngest, Katlyn is in high school. We have always been close.
My relationship now is one of mutual respect, with my significant other. We have been together for 8 years and are growing closer every day. All I did was chant for others happiness. This was the end result. Now I have my Gohonzon.

My sordid past and destructive way of living has changed because of this practice. I have found myself and come full circle. I am happy. This practice and this Buddhism changed my life and brought my family back together. That is the greatest benefit I can ever imagine.

By: Lacy Teel
SUBMITTED BY JOANNE BANKS

A test of faith (part 3)

Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism was introduced to me by my mother in law some twenty years ago. I was a part time Buddhist then. By part time I meant chant when had mood. On and off, I will chant when I encountered any problems.

My first test of the faith was when my wife conceived my second son. When hearing the news that my wife was pregnant with my second son, I was very happy.

The gynecologist who looked after my wife when conceived my first son was Dr McCoy. The doctor was about sixty years then. My wife and I had decided to change doctor as we felt that he was old and might not be good and so we changed to a younger doctor(about 40 years old).

We asked friends and colleagues and was recommended Dr. X, the younger doctor. So we went to see Dr. X for consultation for about two months. On the second month the doctor did a scan on the womb and there was no sign of heart beat on the foetus. He did a pregnancy test again but confirmed that my wife was indeed pregnant. The doctor asked us to see him again in a week's time. One week later we went to see the doctor again and the doctor said that there is no new development and suggested to do a D & C on my wife and there was still no heart beat.

We were lost and panic and did not know what to do. We consulted my mother in law and she just say go and chant. As we were sad and do not have any other choice. My wife and me decided to chant. What have we got to lose? Just try and it is free and instead of spending out time worrying might as well spend our time chanting.

So this how we began chanting. We spent hours and hours chanting Nam myoho renge kyo. After chanting we decided to seek a second opinion and went back to Dr McCoy. The doctor did a scan and pregnancy test and confirmed that my wife was pregnant but there was no sign of heart beat of the foetus. He said that since my wife was pregnant for more than two months, there was no hurry to do anything and suggested she just wait for another month or so. After hearing his remark we felt relieve and went home and chant.

We chanted daimoku everyday and on the visit to Dr McCoy on the third month the scan showed sign of heart beat. We were very happy.

From the third month to the seventh month my wife bleed for a number of times. Every time when my wife go to work after a few days in office, she bled and went to see the doctor and the doctor will give her two weeks sick leave. This happened until the seven months. The numbers of sick leave taken was about more than 120 days.

We were persistent and continued to chant daimoku. Miracle happened on the eight month and my wife seemed okay. She can go to work everyday until the day my second son was born.
The doctor looked surprise and was very happy with the progress of my wife.

Through chant we had the good fortune of meeting a good doctor. Had we listen to the first doctor we would not have our second son. My son is now in form five. He is always in the top ten position in the class and had straight As in two public examinations.

Moment to Moment Victory

by Chee Yee Ling
Malaysia
Every year since 1982 I have had to perform yearly medical check-ups on my kidneys as I have acute glomerular nephritis, a kidney disease. When I was first diagnosed I was a student at the National University of Singapore and I felt as if I had been sentenced to an early death. I remember crying for a whole week alone in my hostel.

Fortunately I was very active in the Singapore Soka Association at that time and I was encouraged to chant a lot and study hard. I made a resolution to spend the rest of my life, no matter how long, encouraging others and reminding them that no obstacle should ever stop them from living a creative and meaningful life. This was exactly how I planned to live my life as well, based on the strategy of the Lotus Sutra and backed by the warm support of the SGI members around me. I believe that it is only our reactions to those obstacles and not the obstacle itself that can make us suffer.

I have been practicing Buddhism now for over 30 years, and I am still alive and kicking, and married with two healthy daughters. I am now head of the science department in a private college in Malaysia.

When I started my career as a teacher in a secondary school in Singapore, I was assigned to teach Normal classes in chemistry. In Singapore, "Normal" means slower than average. My colleagues told me the students were really slow so I was not to expect too much from them in order not to be disappointed.

I had read the works of Soka Gakkai first president and educator Tsunesaburo Makiguchi and he stated that there is no such thing as "stupid" students--it is up to the teacher to educate them. I always related what I was about to teach to applications in daily life in order to capture the students' attention. In fact I was so enthusiastic that the boys in class would ask why I made such an effort to teach them when they were already destined for blue-collar jobs.

Wanting very much to put into practice what I believe in--that everyone has the wisdom of the Buddha that only needs to be awakened by a good teacher, I continued to impress upon the kids the significance of understanding science. I strongly feel that, whether slow or fast, all students need to understand a little about science to make wise decisions in the future. So, I embarked on a journey to make Chemistry come to life for them. All I wanted and cared about was to help them pass the "N" level examination so that they could still have the option of going to university if they chose to. I wanted them to have hopes for the future and not surrender their destiny into the hands of others to decide. That year was the first time my school's N level result emerged as one of the best in Singapore and that motivated me further.

I then joined a private college here in Malaysia. Using examples in Chemistry I always try to show my students that all laws come from one law--the Law of the universe. I strive to make them see that whatever happens in the microcosm also happens in the macrocosm. Everything is interrelated. I also want them to know that just when one thinks that all is in chaos, there is order. I often tell them that they have responsibilities to fulfill for the sake of future humanity and that the world is waiting for them. My students seem to appreciate my effort and they say they find my lessons captivating and interesting.

I cherish every single moment of my life. Even though doctors say my illness may deteriorate further, I am determined to continue living meaningfully and victoriously right to the very end.

[Adapted from Winning in Life--Experiences of Malayasian Women Practicing Nichiren Buddhism, October 2004, Soka Gakkai Malaysia. Since this experience was written, Chee Yee Ling has moved to Australia with her family, where she teaches Chemistry in a University of Sydney Foundation Program at Taylors College, Sydney.]

Making a Difference

by Lulu McLennan
UK

I am 28 years old and have the good fortune to have been born into a family that practices Nichiren Buddhism. However, I have had an ongoing struggle with actually practicing this Buddhism, in other words I had an abundance of doubt, asked a lot of questions and had a lot of encouragement from other people. For most of my life, I have had a practice "like fire," which means that when I felt inspired or had a big problem, I would chant. The rest of the time a couple of minutes' chanting a day was more than enough. I really believed Nichiren Buddhism worked for other people--just not for me.

In 2006, I decided to join the group of young women who support the smooth running of activities from behind the scenes at the SGI-UK national center, Taplow Court. I really enjoy this activity and I think it was a last-ditch attempt to develop a solid Buddhist practice. Everyone told me it would change my life but I didn't want my life to change. I already had a great job, a great family and a great boyfriend!

As part of our activity we were encouraged to study the first two volumes of The New Human Revolution, written by SGI President Daisaku Ikeda. This is an account of how Nichiren Buddhism spread across the world. I found the books very inspiring but I was initially uncomfortable with so much of the books being about Mr. Ikeda's activities.

I work as a pediatric nurse in the children's emergency department at a South London Hospital, which is on the border of Lambeth and Southwark, two of the more deprived London boroughs. There are many children whose lives are affected by violence and other problems associated with such deprivation. We often deal with unpleasant situations, which I found I started getting used to. I seldom felt sad about the things I saw. My colleagues also seemed to be unaffected too. And they felt bored and unappreciated. On the whole we were quite an unhappy bunch.

At the beginning of this year my mum was part of a group who went to Japan for a Buddhist study course. I was surprised by how her trip affected me--I found that I wanted to chant more. I also felt that I really should begin to understand the mentor-disciple relationship, an important concept in Buddhism.

It became clear to me that I had very little faith in my ability to make a difference. And I began to see why President Ikeda writes so confidently. He has done amazing things, met great people and works hard to create a peaceful world. He has done all of this because he had a great mentor in Josei Toda. Why wouldn't somebody write proudly of those experiences? Also, he achieved these things as an ordinary human being, with lots of problems and struggles along the way. So he is in a sense saying, "If I can do these things, so could any of us!"

Soon after this realization, I very quickly had an overwhelming sense that something needed to change at work. How could I make a difference? I found myself writing a proposal, which I called "A Vision of Peace," for the children's area in the emergency department.

This proposal came directly from my chanting and from my heart. It began with a quotation from President Ikeda: "If we seem to be weathering an endless winter, we must not abandon hope, as long as we have hope, spring will come without fail."

One of my ideas was to create a "dream tree" where all the children, parents and staff could write a hope or dream on a leaf and put it on the tree. I decided to give the proposal to the Accident and Emergency consultant, the matron, the nursing manager and all the people I work with.

I chanted, then went to work the next day, armed with my vision of peace and a trembling hand. I walked in to find that there had been a terrible death overnight. So I had a moment of doubt, which I overcame and then began giving out my vision.

Later in the day the matron came down to tell me how inspiring he found my ideas and asked when I could get started. The consultant was pleased that somebody was thinking outside of the box.

A young woman in my local SGI-UK district painted a beautiful tree, which I attached to the wall in the middle of the night in February, along with the quote from President Ikeda that had originally inspired me. The staff on the night shift were so excited and they wrote amazing dreams for the future.

The tree is now literally full of children's, parents' and staff's dreams and we are planning to paint a dream sea.

I want to make even more of a difference with my life from this moment onwards. I will not accept that children are born wanting to kill as some seem to think--it must be learned behavior. I'm determined to use my life to ensure that somehow the children of Southwark and Lambeth learn a different way, as after all prevention is better than cure. If we are able to change just one person's day or give one child the ability to believe in their dreams, then we have been able to do so much more than just treat an illness or fix a wound. At the end of the day, health is much more than just the absence of illness.

Now I can see that even the small amount of chanting I did, along with the continuous support of my family and many SGI members has not been wasted. With a growing appreciation for the mentor-disciple relationship, I now have the kind of commitment to my Buddhist practice that I have always wanted and this is my greatest benefit. I can't wait to see what happens next!

[Adapted from an article in the January 2008 issue of the Art of Living, SGI-UK]

How To Expand My Capacity

by Wing Lee
USA
I lost my father to kidney disease when I was seven. He was a loving parent, a devoted husband and a sincere, genuine man.

My father ran a small print shop business for my grandfather in Hong Kong. During the last three years of his life, my father's condition worsened until he was bedridden. My grandparents, however, offered no assistance, and two days after my father died, they disowned my mother and me. We were left with nothing, not even a place to stay.

While looking for work, my mother ran into a friend. When she learned about our situation, she immediately introduced my mother to the SGI. My mother had pretty much given up on religion after trying many while my father was ill. With nothing left to lose, she decided to give Nichiren Buddhism a try.

Soon after my mother started chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, my father's business associates contacted her. They had learned what my grandparents had done and wanted to help my mother open her own printing business. My father's clients also called and said they would support her.

This was a bold venture for a single woman to undertake in Hong Kong in the early 1970s. But with confidence and wisdom gained from her prayers, she opened her own business. My mother worked countless hours, often doing hard manual labor, to reestablish our lives.

With my mother's hectic work schedule, I was usually at home alone. I took up hobbies I could do alone--photography, reading and computer programming. I got so used to being by myself, though, that I became an introvert. I shied away from social activities and had problems expressing myself to others.

I did, however, attend SGI youth activities in Hong Kong and received tremendous support from the local members. Even so, by my late teens, I still had not established my own Buddhist practice and lived a rather sheltered life.

My mother, becoming aware of my self-centered nature and my dependence on her, decided to send me to the United States to pursue my college education. While I'm sure was difficult to send her only child thousands of miles away to a foreign land, I know now that she did it out of deep compassion for my growth and happiness.

I attended two semesters at the University of Oklahoma and later transferred to the University of Texas in Austin to study computer science. In both cities, I was immediately embraced by the SGI-USA members and invited to district meetings. I began learning more about the practice and faith of Nichiren Buddhism as I listened to people from all walks of life share their experiences.

I was given many opportunities to participate in district activities. Initially, I wasn't comfortable speaking in front of others, but because my leaders were so sincere and supportive, I felt I should at least try. The first time I read aloud from the World Tribune at a meeting, I held the newspaper in front of my face to avoid eye contact with others. But as I repeatedly challenged my shyness and continued to chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, I became more comfortable speaking at meetings. I eventually assumed responsibility as a young men's leader in the district.

My young men's leader in Austin was also a fellow student at the university. He had a strong sense of mission to work alongside SGI President Daisaku Ikeda to create peace. He inspired me to study President Ikeda's writings as well as the fundamentals of Nichiren Buddhism. He patiently took time to explain various Buddhist topics in ways that I could relate to. I began to apply what I was learning to my daily life.

As I became more active in SGI-USA, I found that the activities in which I supported "from behind the scenes" furthered my growth to a greater degree. Like other youth members of the activity support groups, I stood in the parking lot greeting members as they arrived for meetings and as they returned home. Through my efforts, I gained a deeper understanding of President Ikeda's behavior--how he ceaselessly shows his deepest appreciation for others' efforts--and I was able to expand my own capacity to care for the people around me.

These activities constantly offered me new challenges. I planned monthly world peace prayer meetings and coordinated logistics for numerous major events. With each new responsibility, I gained more confidence in myself and learned how to work cooperatively with others--skills one cannot learn in the world of academia alone.

My Buddhist practice propelled me to complete a double degree in Information Systems and Management at the University of Texas in Austin in 1990 and then land a great job. Even though the U.S. was in an economic recession, I secured more than 20 interviews and was offered jobs from four highly regarded companies. Meanwhile, many of my classmates from other countries couldn't find jobs and had to return to their homelands.

I have been with a leading telecommunications company for close to 14 years and have enjoyed a trailblazing career. I led the development of the software infrastructure for the company's core network and played a key role in the launch of the nation's first high-speed wireless data network in 2001. I now oversee the company's technology innovation activities.

I've been invited to speak at nearly 40 industry conferences across four continents and serve on advisory boards at numerous high-tech companies. I was also awarded six U.S. patents for my inventions in communications technology and have 20 more pending applications at the U.S. Patent Office. As a result of the value I've created for the company, I am the unique recipient of both the company's highest technical achievement and business leadership awards.

One of my most gratifying professional recognitions was being named Asian American Engineer of the Year at the 2002 National Engineers Week, along with Nobel Laureate Leo Esaki and former Chancellor of the University of California at Berkeley, Chang-Lin Tein.

I'm confident that the wisdom and fortune I have gained through supporting and protecting my local SGI organization and taking care of members directed my life toward developing a momentous career. The values I learned from President Ikeda, likewise, have enabled me to be a humanistic, yet effective leader in the role I play at work. Most importantly, I have learned how to overcome obstacles through the power of prayer and taking action. I learned how to be victorious in my daily life, using my Buddhist practice to bring out the limitless capability inherent in my life.

Not only has my career blossomed, the previous shy introvert is now married to a caring and beautiful woman, Carol, and we have two darling daughters, Vanessa and Serena. We are very grateful to our mentor in life, President Ikeda, for providing us with the most wonderful organization in which to practice Nichiren Buddhism--the global family of the SGI. And I am so appreciative for the wisdom and compassion that my mother had for me at such a critical time in my life.

[Adapted from an article in the March 21, 2008 issue of the World Tribune, SGI-USA; photo courtesy of the World Tribune]

What was my preception of Nichiren Buddhism? Part 2

When I first known about Nichiren Buddhism I just wondered what was this 'weird' religion.

The following questions popped in my head:

1.Why the 'altar' was covered in a box.
2.Why is it the it can not be 'displayed'?
3.Is it some thing that the religion wanted to hide from?
4.Why there is a 'coffin' like joss sticks burner?
5.Why the candles are white instead of red like the Chinese candles?
6.What was the weird things they are chanting?
7.The Japanese had invaded other countries, anything from Japan wouldn't be good either?

Just imagine how ignorant I was.

Some years later, when I joined the religion, then I had all the questions answered.
.
1.The Gohonzon is kept in the butsudan i.e. the box. As Nichiren Buddhist value the importance of Gohonzon, this is why it is kept in safe place to protect it from dust, sunlight, insects and etc.
2.The same reason as in answer no 1. Furthermore the Gohonzon is not a display item. Nichiren Buddhist will only open the 'box' when praying and chanting.
3.Reasons as in answer 1 and 2,
4. The joss sticks are burned when lying down and that is the reason for the rectangle shape. Furthermore if the joss sticks are burned standing, the place around it will be dusty and harder to maintained. People have different views of shape of things and it is their rights to think and say what they want.
5.People view colour depending on they cultural back ground, The westerns view red as danger but the Chinese thinks that red is auspicious. The Japanese and the westerner view white as pure but Chinese view as neutral. I was told there is no strict rule in Nichiren Buddhism, if one likes it one can use red candles. Buddhism is reasoning and logic.
6. Chanting is only weird when one is not use to it. If one chants in groups, one will appreciate the beauty and melody of the chanting.
7.It is true that Japanese invaded many countries and caused suffering to many. But not many people know that SGI, the promoted of Nichiren Buddhist were the only people that opposed war in Japan.

Fathers and Sons

by Michael Rattray
Scotland
From an early age, I always felt my dad was much prouder of my older brother. I also felt my dad didn't approve of my musical talents and wished I would "just get a proper job." When I got my first band together in my teens, he never really took an interest in what I was doing and always answered me with "Yes, but will it pay the bills?" This led me to doing a course in musical instrument technology which I hated. I stuck at it for a year and then left. When I told my dad, I felt like a failure again.

I carried on writing music and playing gigs, and felt that if I made it with my music then maybe I could win his approval. However, I was different in more ways than one and, at the age of around 11 or 12, I realized I was attracted to boys instead of girls. I kept this to myself for a good six years as I knew it would only be another disappointment for my dad. We had never even spoken about the birds and the bees, let alone the bees and the bees! I told him when I was 17. I had thought he would kick me out of the house. Much to my surprise he put his arms around me and quietly said, "You'll always be my son."

In my early 20s I became ill with major depression and our relationship began to change. My dad helped me through a lot of the bad days, taking me to hospital appointments and encouraging me to stay positive.

After a few years of struggling with the illness, I met Nichiren Buddhism. As I chanted, I began to transform myself and see things as they really were. My relationship with my dad deepened.

Standing Up for Each Other
We began to open up to each other. He told me about how he'd struggled in his 20s and 30s when he was trying to support our family, saying a father loves all his children equally, that he had never ever compared me to my brother or thought I was a failure or wished I'd been different in any way. All he'd ever wanted was the best for me. I realized it was narrow-minded and selfish of me to think he didn't value me as a person. He had a full-time job, a wife and three young children to provide for. Through chanting and study I realized all the thoughts I had had about him came from my own insecurities and negativity.

After work one day he seemed really angry. I asked him what was wrong and he told me there was a woman at his work talking about how wrong and disgusting gay people were. He told me he'd stopped her in her tracks and said to her, "I have a gay son and you don't know what you're talking about. People don't choose to be gay; it's just part of who they are." I couldn't believe it.

As the years passed, I kept chanting; things slowly improved with my health, and my band managed to secure a support gig in front of a sold-out, 1,600-seat venue. My sister told me that when I walked out on stage, my dad sat quietly, smiling and crying with pride.

My dad had to retire a few years ago due to stress and I really chanted to be able to support him. With my own experience of mental illness, he seemed to open up and tell me his thoughts. The relationship I now have with my dad is amazing. He is my best friend. I make every moment count with him and support his life the best I can. The love between a father and son can often not be expressed. For me and my father it wasn't for many years, which led to misunderstandings and insecurities. I chant with deep gratitude every day that we are able to share this joy and respect for each other in this lifetime.

[Courtesy, January 2009 SGI Quarterly]

My Debt of Gratitude

by Hisako Nojo
Japan

It was on a cold winter's evening in 1974 that my mother welcomed me back into her home. I had just divorced and my infant son was still nursing. I started working to support us, and my mother took on all the tasks of housekeeping as well as raising my son. When my son was six, he was diagnosed with a congenital condition of unknown origin that severely depressed his thyroid production. We were told that this condition could potentially stunt his growth and cause other problems. Indeed, he was starting to show some signs of delayed development compared to other children of his age. It was at this time that my sister introduced me to the practice of Nichiren Buddhism. I began chanting regularly and engaging energetically in organizational activities.

After some time I was able to find a renowned specialist in my son's condition. With treatment, he was able to completely overcome his illness and is now a healthy young man with no lingering aftereffects.

At first my mother opposed my faith, but with time, she also began to practice, which she came to enjoy very much. She was delighted to support me in my activities. It was truly reassuring to see the joy with which she sent me off to fulfill my responsibilities as local women's district leader. Without her support, it would have been impossible to hold down a demanding job and care for a sick child.

When he was in sixth grade, my son determined that he wanted to study at Soka University, and over the subsequent years studied hard for the examination. I will never forget the wonderful smile with which my mother welcomed the news that he had passed.

But this joy was short-lived. One evening, my mother failed to come home. The police, my neighbors and I searched everywhere for her. Finally, after three days of searching, we found her squatting in a small isolated hut, exhausted and disheveled. This was the start of our struggle with Alzheimer's disease. At the time, there was little support for families in this situation. I had to rush home 10 km from my workplace during my lunch break, feed her, make sure she took her medicine, and take her to the toilet, and then hurry back to work. Even while working, I was constantly thinking about her, worried that she might wander off. At night, I would be awakened by her time and again, and could never relax or let down my guard.

Severely short of sleep, exhausted in body and soul, on more than a few occasions I found myself lashing out at her verbally. The sad and frightened look in her eyes at such times is etched in my memory.

Eventually, I was able to find a facility that would take care of my mother during the day. Seeing the stress I was under, they later agreed to take care of her full-time, except when I had days off.

In 1994, my mother passed away peacefully at age 82. As I cradled her in my arms, she quietly thanked me. All I could do was apologize for not having been kinder.

For a number of years, I struggled with feelings of regret and guilt. My Buddhist practice became a way for me to confront these feelings. Eventually, I determined that I wanted to do something to ease the burden of families in situations similar to mine. I studied for and passed the test to be qualified as a certified caregiver and then found a position in a hospital, where I worked for more than four years. Then, in 2004, I established a visiting home care operation. It currently employs six people and looks after 30 patients. I feel clearly that this is my mission in life, the work I was always meant to do. I am deeply grateful to my mother for leading me to this work, and am determined, through it, to repay my debt of gratitude to her.

[Courtesy, January 2009 SGI Quarterly]

How do I know about Nichiren Daishonin Buddhism? Part 1

I was born a Buddhist. My parents prayed to Buddha. Every day I saw my parents using joss sticks and pray to Buddha.

The first time I knew more about Buddhism was when my brother joined a Buddhist temple. He talked a little about Buddhism and the only thing I can remembered was that he said that Buddhism is a way of life. I just did not understand what this meant but years later after taking up Nichiren Buddhism I came to understand that Buddhism faith equals to daily life.

I just followed what my parents did and when they asked me burned joss sticks I just followed. I also sometimes followed my mother to the temple to pray.

My parents did not explained the purposes and values of the religion.

After school I went to work as an article clerk in an audit firm. This was where I meet my future wife. We dated for some years and it was time to meet her parents. I went to her house and was introduced to her parents.

Her parents were Toaist and pray to some Chinese gods.

A year later my girl friend's parent took up Nichiren Buddhism. A day when I visited my future mother in law, I was 'surprise' to see the Butsudan in her house. Just wondering what was it?

My future mother in law just gave me a beads and a small booklet and asked me to chant the phase " Nam myoho renge kyo." She said it is very effective and that if I had any problems this would solve them.

I just felt weird and not wanting to offend her I just accepted it.

This is the first time I really known about Nichiren Buddhism.

Power of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo

by Neil Butterfield
UK
"Dad, I'm in a bit of a mess. I went out last night with my mates and I've woken up to find the fridge is empty. Can you come over and bring me £10 for food?"

I was serving a customer in the shop at the SGI-UK National Centre, Taplow Court, as I fielded this stereotypical phone call from my son. I felt the usual mixture of frustration, despair and love well up inside me as I tried to decide whether I would be helping him most if I left him to starve in his mother's house until she came back from holiday. She had always been unable to say "No" to any of his demands, until I felt he was quite unused to solving his problems. In contrast I had got into the pattern of saying "No" to everything he asked for without really examining what it was he really wanted. I could not believe my son could have emptied my ex-wife's huge American fridge-freezer of its contents in 10 days. He must have something else on his mind, so I agreed that I would see him in a couple of hours.

I happened to ask the person I was working with if she had a son and we started sharing our war stories in the usual manner until she explained guidance she had received which had really changed their relationship. I had never considered guidance, so I was very curious to hear what she had been advised. "When I was fairly new to the practice like you," she continued, "I was told that I was not respecting my son's life and that when I did, his behavior toward me would change dramatically." I could understand most of the guidance as I was aware I had not been treating my son with sufficient compassion. I chanted an hour for his happiness, without really understanding how he could change towards me.

On the way to his mother's house I reviewed his life up to that point. He was the eldest child with two sisters. Unlike them he had not excelled at school except for football, at which he seemed to have an exceptional talent. I had no feeling for the sport and struggled to understand the people involved in it, so this was a big challenge for me. I encouraged him through the various village teams up to the National Academy. However, I was puzzled when he never went to team practices. I noticed he was always the last to arrive on match days and the first to leave. I tried to explain to him the politics of selection, as I attempted to get on good terms with the different coaches. But he never pushed himself forward. At first I put it down to shyness. As he got older, I began to see him as lazy. I could not understand why he would not want to develop his skills and fitness by training with the team.

At 17, he was drinking heavily. At 18, he lost his license through drink driving, and I drove him to work to his first job as a gym instructor. Three weeks into the new job he was called up for jury service. It was a complicated fraud trial lasting 10 weeks, and he never worked again. He started training heavily in the gym, his weight going up to 17 stone (108 kg) as he was using steroids. His temper became increasingly volatile and he kept erratic hours. His attendance record at college deteriorated. He lost his license again, smashing into five parked cars on the way back from a club. He fled the scene and the police found five wraps of cocaine in the dashboard. He went to university and dropped out. He had trials with a football club, but got glandular fever. The next year he went to another university and dropped out. He had trials again and got glandular fever again. His professional football dream was finished. The next year he went to a local university and dropped out in the second term. By now he was deeply in debt, as I had refused to pay for the last two university courses. Bailiffs started coming to the door and so he left the country. For the last two years he had been living off his girlfriend in the town where his mother was born. From relatives we heard he stayed in most days surfing the net, only going out to play football. He seemed to be becoming a benefits specialist.

Some of his struggles I could identify with, others left me totally bemused. I could not understand why he would not work. He had holes in his teeth which must be hurting, but he still chose to stay at home on his computer rather than earn money and get them fixed. I could not connect him to his family tree. Going only several generations back, he would find men who were explorers, war heroes and entrepreneurs. Where was the courage? Where was the determination? I could see family karma quite clearly revealing itself. Unconsciously he had felt rejected as the girls were held up as examples of how to behave and succeed. Children loved for what they can do rather than who they are. I remembered so well how I thought my mother preferred my photograph to me. My father and I were like blocks of granite grinding against each other. From the age of 15, I wandered around Europe during the holidays, returning the day before term started to a school I hated. Somehow I got through university, but, just like my son, I learned my real lessons outside the classroom, as I became increasingly estranged from my family.

My parents decided to die on the same day. I was looking after mother who was dying of cancer at home. My father was in a home as he had got Alzheimer's and had become violent. When I made my daily visit, the nurse always asked me if he knew me today, and I was embarrassed by the question. We had never known each other. When my mother stopped visiting, he refused food and drink until he starved to death. On the last day, as he lay curled up on a mattress on the floor, his body taut with cramp, still fighting, alone in his fear as I looked on helplessly, I made a determination that somehow I would be less incoherent with my son than my father had been with me. Somehow, if my life was to have any value, I would break the family pattern of strong, silent men who did their duty and never showed their feelings. Before the practice I knew exactly what I wanted to achieve, but could not seem to make the amount of progress I wanted.

When I started practicing about three years ago, I was advised to chant for something to prove the power of the practice. I did not feel that was necessary as I had no doubt I had made the right decision. I was also told that changing karma was the hardest challenge, which, to someone of my nature, sounded irresistible. On and off for two years, I chanted that I would change the family karma of the father being unable to communicate with his son. Other days I chanted for his happiness, as it seemed more important his suffering should diminish, with or without my involvement.

In the car, on the way to see my son, I played a CD that has slow chanting on it, intended for newcomers to Nichiren Buddhism, over and over again until my body was filled from head to toe with Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. I went straight to the kitchen and checked the fridge. It was half full. I went into the living room, sat down opposite my son and waited, not speaking. I just watched him, my mind open. He immediately started crying. He said he could not cope any more and we talked for more than six hours. We held each other and cried. Neither of us had ever done anything like this before.

My son explained he thought he had a type of mental illness similar to agoraphobia. He got panic attacks round people and it took him days to work up the courage to go into a shop. When he went to college and university, most of the time he had been unable to get out of the car and so he dropped out. He was unable to go to the doctor's on his own or go to a job interview. If he did get a job, he could not hold it down. Most of the time he was unable to leave the house, so he spent most of his life on the computer. The only thing he still enjoyed was football, but he could not cope with the people.

As I watched him talking, it all started to make sense. He was not lazy at all--he had tried so many times to start again. I could feel his determination and his courage and I felt so proud of him. I could see now how he fitted into the family and how I could re-attach him to the family. I could really feel his struggle and I was ashamed I had doubted his Buddhahood, which was the point of the guidance. I was reminded that nothing in Buddhism is random. I had taken a phone call at the moment I was standing next to someone who had similar problems with her son and had received guidance. I would never have gone for guidance, so this was the only way for me to have heard this message. I was paying particular attention because it was a mother talking. If the message had come via a father, I would probably not have been able to hear it.

I felt such relief as I watched him talking. I knew I would never have to reach out in understanding for him any more, that now he would always be inside me just like my daughters. I felt much lighter as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Suddenly I felt a physical wrenching in my heart and a block of ice crashed to the ground, splintering into tiny shards. To my amazement I realized I had been given everything I had chanted for as I knew my son's sons and all their sons' sons as far as the eye could see would never again be closed off from one another.

There is a passage in one of Nichiren's writings that reads: "...when one carries out the single practice of exercising faith in Myoho-renge-kyo, there are no blessings that fail to come to one, and no good karma that does not begin to work on one's behalf. It is like the case of a fishing net: though the net is composed of innumerable small meshes, when one pulls on the main cord of the net, there are no meshes that do not move. Or it is like a garment: though the garment is composed of countless tiny threads, when one pulls on a corner of the garment, there are no threads that are not drawn along" (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 133).

[Courtesy of Art of Living, SGI-UK, July 2006]

Breaking Karmic Chain

by Foo Mow Nam
Malaysia
I started practicing Nichiren Buddhism 30 years ago with a deep desire to be happy. As a young woman then, I thought that meant being happily married to a man of strong financial standing. Money was vitally important to me then as I was born into a poor family. Money had always been an issue and the source of all family squabbles.

So when told that I could chant for anything I ever wanted in life, I thought having money would bring me freedom. I did not realize at that time, understanding karma and enjoying freedom from our karmic suffering are more meaningful than anything else.

Thirty years of sincere practice had indeed brought me many wonderful benefits and positive changes in my life--both conspicuous and inconspicuous. I am indeed happily married and financially secure now although the path had been rocky and difficult.

As I deepened my practice of Nichiren Buddhism, I also began to realize that there is a deep karmic pattern in my family--illness and "premature" death. My mother passed away at the age of 40 due to illness. All three of my younger brothers died, one after the other, of the same illness--liver cancer--and all in their 40s. No words can describe in any way my pain and grief.

The death of my second younger brother, Yong Foo, due to liver cancer was the most painful for me. We were very close. Yong Foo was strong in faith and contributed actively to the advancement of the kosen-rufu movement in Australia, where he and his family had lived for the past 20 years. I had pinned my hope on him to transform our family karma because of his sincere and selfless dedication to the happiness of others.

When Yong Foo informed me, in early 2001, that he had been diagnosed to have the same illness that resulted in the death of his elder brother, I was devastated, but determined to fight alongside him. The treatments began, and coupled with strong daimoku, he battled the illness against all odds, coming very close to death at least three times.

In the following three years until his death in November 2003, Yong Foo exerted more than ever in his efforts for kosen-rufu. He traveled throughout Australia to visit members and to encourage and inspire them with hope and courage, and urged them to develop strong conviction in the Gohonzon. He met with as many youths as possible, and moved them to seek the path of mentor-disciple relationship.

I, on the other hand, fought my own battle. I quickly learned that it is one thing to understand intellectually the theoretical concepts of Buddhism such as karma and the eternity of life, but quite another when you have to grapple with them directly in your own reality.

I studied President Ikeda's guidance to draw hope, and searched for answers from the Gosho for reassurance. During such painful and difficult times, I clung to President Ikeda's comforting words whenever he met with members who had lost someone dear to them. His guidance pointed out to us that as human beings it is natural for us to feel grief and sadness at the loss of someone dear to us. We may even feel that his/her death was premature and unexpected. However, from the viewpoint of the deceased, his/her death is perfectly in rhythm with the eternal law of cause and effect. Therefore, I could bring myself to accept it when President Ikeda said that although to us someone's death may be difficult to understand and accept, from the deceased's standpoint, his/her death is part of his eternal life. Ultimately, everything comes down to our faith. If we wish to live a life that is free of fear, doubt and anxiety it is essential that we understand two vital aspects of life: the dignity of life and the eternity of life.

One thing became very clear to me as I battled my sorrow. This is the realization that it was no accident that I was born into this family, and shared this karmic bond with my parents and siblings. In fact, Buddhism teaches that from the standpoint of karma, due to the causes and effects that we ourselves have made, we have in a sense chosen our parents and consequently connected to our siblings. And Buddhism goes one step beyond this, and offers a dynamically positive outlook: that is, I had vowed in the remote past to experience this suffering so that I may prove the profundity of Nichiren Buddhism.

As a Bodhisattva of the Earth, I have taken on, of my own free will, the "great vow" of the Buddha to triumph over this karma in my family, and help others do the same. It is my unique mission, and only I can fulfill it.

But, what does it mean to win, in concrete terms?

I learned that "being victorious" does not always mean getting what we chant for. Rather, being victorious means learning to feel joy even in the midst of great suffering.

I believe my younger brother had indeed triumphed over his illness and karma, and prolonged his life through his practice of Nichiren Buddhism. Most importantly, he had lived meaningfully until the last moment of his life.

I was able to be with Yong Foo during the last few days of his life, and the great good fortune we have built through the practice became evident. In fact, his illness had become almost insignificant to him as he directed his whole life towards encouraging and inspiring everyone around him with his sharp wit, humor and compassion. Yong Foo also did not experience unbearable pain normally associated with cancer patients. In fact, he ended up most of the time comforting all of us.

That evening before Yong Foo went into coma, he sung a birthday song to his beloved wife Janice, and telephoned his siblings in Malaysia as he knew he would not be able to see them again.

He passed away peacefully the following day after being in coma for a short period. By this time, despite my deep sorrow, I was ready to let him go. I came to see that his sick body needed a new lease of life. Most importantly, he had triumphed and fulfilled his mission in this lifetime, and was ready to move on to his next mission for kosen-rufu. I bid farewell to my beloved brother, and promised that we will meet again in our next lives for kosen-rufu. With a drop of tear rolling down the side of his cheek, he breathed his last.

Members from all over Australia attended Yong Foo's funeral, which was absolutely dignified with the chanting of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo reverberating throughout the Sydney Culture Centre. Hundreds of members across Australia had been deeply touched by Yong Foo's life--his passion for life, his fighting spirit, and most importantly his determination and actions for kosen-rufu.

Through the karmic bond that we shared, I have finally understood the deep significance of Nichiren Buddhism.

I now know the answer and meaning of my karmic suffering--I was given the opportunity, together with my siblings, to break the karmic cycle caused by our shared slander of the Law. But most significantly, our ultimate triumph over this is to prove, without a shadow of doubt, the greatness and profundity of Nichiren Buddhism.

[Adapted from Winning in Life, Soka Gakkai Malaysia, 2004]

A Clear View of a Valuable Life

by Raymond Tan Kim Teck, Singapore
In March 1977, I graduated from Singapore Polytechnic with a degree in mechanical engineering. Shortly after, I discovered I had tuberculosis and had to go through daily injections for three months. A severe allergic reaction to the medication, however, left my optic nerves badly damaged, and my vision was permanently blurred in both eyes.

As I wallowed in anguish and hopelessness, my aunt introduced my mother to Nichiren Buddhism. Two Singapore Soka Association leaders visited me often during my month-long stay in the hospital. I started attending SGI meetings as soon as I was discharged from the hospital.
Meanwhile, doctors prescribed a new medication. The treatment was supposed to take one-and-a-half years, but as I applied myself to my Buddhist practice, my treatment was completed within a year. That was my first benefit of faith.

In June 1979, the eye specialist referred me to the Singapore Association of the Visually Handicapped, where I trained to be a telephone operator. In February 1980, I started working as an operator in one of the world's largest banks.

Over the years, I have been fortunate to have good, understanding bosses. At the same time, I've also made efforts to show actual proof of the power of my Buddhist practice in my work. I was determined to show that, through my practice, I could win over any limitations and lead a life of value and happiness.

In September 1999, just when I thought my life was becoming "happy ever after," I discovered a lump in my neck. I had surgery to remove it, but a week later I learned that it was cancerous and had already spread. I was diagnosed with lymphoma.

I began chemotherapy and underwent a month of daily radiotherapy. The only side effect I experienced was losing all my hair. I chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo for several hours daily. During the remaining hours of each day, to keep myself encouraged and motivated, I read SGI President Ikeda's guidance, Nichiren's writings and members' experiences of victory in faith. A passage from Nichiren was a great source of encouragement: "A sword is useless in the hands of a coward. The mighty sword of the Lotus Sutra must be wielded by one courageous in faith. Then one will be as strong as a demon armed with an iron staff " (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 412).

I thought, To have faith means to have courage, hope and a strong fighting spirit. If my determination is weak, my body will lose the battle. I must have courage to win!

While I was undergoing further treatment, a senior in faith visited me and explained that "with strong faith, you will eventually understand the significance of your illness." Later, as I reflected on his words, I realized that my illness had enabled me to deepen my faith in the Gohonzon and become stronger.

I recovered so quickly that I was soon back at work. I even took a trip with my family to Hong Kong to enjoy the beauty of spring, made more glorious by my victory over cancer.

Then another challenge presented itself. In mid-2001, I learned that the bank where I worked was cutting down the number of telephone operators.

With the wisdom I gained through my practice, I found the courage to take initiative in improving my computer skills, which led to support for further computer training. I started with almost no computer skills and soon became proficient, enabling me to stay on at the bank.

In May 2003, however, my colleagues and I learned that our jobs were being eliminated, and we would be transferred to the call center for other job functions. After three months at the center, I was encouraged to consider early retirement. Instead, I pressed for a transfer to the sales section. I was told that sales is not suitable for everyone as there is a lot of pressure to meet monthly targets.

Despite this, I felt a strong determination to prove my capability, and I chanted to overcome everyone's objections. My prayer was realized when I was transferred.

For the past three years, I have met every monthly target. I received several awards as the best telesales agent, including the Super Achiever Award for 2004. I attribute all these to my faith in the Gohonzon and deep conviction in my Buddha nature. I faced every challenge with courage and won.

Then, in October 2005, I was hospitalized with stomach pains. The doctor could not determine the cause even after exploratory surgery. Nevertheless, I was relieved that it was not a relapse of cancer. I was on medical leave for a month, but my sales result was still above the monthly target.

In November 2006, I was nominated by my manager to receive the Brand Hero Award, which is given to the employee who exemplifies qualities such as good team dynamics, friendliness, open-mindedness, fairness and responsiveness. Out of 24 Brand Heroes, I was one of five short-listed for the Best Brand Hero award. During an interview to select the winner, I shared President Ikeda's guidance with our top management. I was chosen as the Best of the Best Brand Hero and represented our bank in the regional convention in Dubai this past March.

President Ikeda writes: "It is important to continue your faith for first 10, then 20, and then 30 years. If you sincerely and straightforwardly strive in your faith, continuing to do so for 30 years, the roots of good fortune will sink deeply into your life and a great flower of happiness will definitely blossom."

These words bear the profoundest meaning for me as I look back at how my life unfolded over these 30 years of practicing Nichiren Buddhism.

[Courtesy of World Tribune, SGI-USA, June 22, 2007]

Graphic Designer on Wheels

Graphic Designer on Wheels
By Shohei Yasuda, Japan

"Since I became a member of Soka Gakkai ten years ago, my attitude towards life has totally changed," says Shohei Yasuda, who suffered a debilitating brain tumor twenty years ago. Shohei, 40, a Soka Gakkai young men's leader in his local organization, talks about how he transformed his inner life and his outward circumstances.

Having competed in the National Kendo Championship as a junior high school student, I had always been supremely confident in my athletic strength and prowess. At 19, I moved to Tokyo from my home in Akita Prefecture to study at a vocational design school. It was then I began to notice that something was not quite right about my health.

I began stumbling for no discernable reason and also experienced extreme exhaustion. After some tests I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I went through two 20-hour surgeries. Although the tumors were successfully removed, I was left with a motor function disorder below the knees in both legs.

After two years of rigorous rehabilitation I finally returned to my daily life--but in a wheelchair. I had some very trying moments and I often felt bitter. But thanks to my classmates at the design school who were always encouraging and supporting me, I somehow persevered. One of those classmates was Emiko (39) (currently a local Soka Gakkai women's leader), whom I married in 1994 at age 27.

With her family joining the Soka Gakkai soon after she was born, I knew Emiko was devoted to her practice of Buddhism. I was quite surprised, however, to see her bring her Buddhist altar along with her furniture when she moved in with me in my hometown in Akita Prefecture where I had returned upon graduation. Gradually, though, I began to respect her faith and was able to deepen my understanding of Buddhism. She took me to see a video of a Soka Gakkai leaders' meeting where SGI President Daisaku Ikeda was giving a speech. I was deeply touched by his warmth and compassion. I began to feel that there was something quite unique about this religion.

Looking back, I remember having an overwhelming desire to discover and live with genuine hope even while in the depths of despair at my condition, and it was President Ikeda's encouragement and my direct interaction with Soka Gakkai members that became the wellspring of that hope. Everything about Nichiren Buddhism and the Soka Gakkai went straight to my heart. "Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is like the roar of a lion. What sickness can therefore be an obstacle?" This passage from one of Nichiren's letters of encouragement to a believer hit me like a thunderbolt. I learned from this that by practicing Buddhism one can achieve a life state of absolute happiness and remain strong without being affected by external circumstances. Amazed, I thought, "Maybe I too can lead such a life." I began to believe that my life had tremendous potential that I had to reveal.

But when I was being more realistic, I would tell myself, "No, it's not possible." To be honest, I was simply worried whether I could actually recite the Lotus Sutra every morning and evening. The more seriously I thought about giving the practice a try, the more I lost confidence. But I also realized that I was just making excuses. I seemed to lack the courage to take up this practice with which I could create and realize my dreams. I was putting limitations on my life.
I'm embarrassed to talk about this now, but I couldn't even bring myself to say I'd like to give the practice a try. Instead, I waited for my wife to ask me, and then played the part of a reluctant husband who had been browbeaten into taking up her faith. It was the third year of our marriage. Although the step I took to join was a small one, the change that I experienced was dramatic. I found myself feeling, "I want to become a designer who can convey my message to the world!" "I want to create designs that move people's hearts!"

Until then, I always thought of my work merely as a way to earn a living. After I started practicing Nichiren Buddhism, my work became much more meaningful. I found myself aspiring toward a distinct dream. It was as if a candle was suddenly lit within my life. With the belief that "no prayer will go unanswered," I put my full effort into even the smallest project.

Eventually, I became acquainted with a senior designer working in Tokyo who entrusted me with a project for a major company. This became the breakthrough in my career. After that I received several offers for major projects that marked important milestones in my work. New avenues were opening in my life but the excitement was short-lived.

My wife, who had been unable to adapt to the harsh climate in the north, became increasingly frail. I was torn between my concern for my wife's health, which meant moving to a warmer area, and my blossoming career. By then with my Buddhist practice I was a stronger and more positive person. I decided to pray and search for a way to achieve both. I chanted with the "roar of a lion." I finally made the choice to leave my home in northern Japan. With the support of my family and friends, we moved to my wife's hometown, Matsudo City, in Chiba Prefecture where the climate is warmer.

I realize now that having a sound philosophy made a huge difference when I had to make the "right" choice at a pivotal crossroads in my life. There are so many people who shy away from making daunting decisions and just let their life take them wherever it leads. Changing directions in life, though, brings new challenges. Being disabled, I was always battling the anxiety of whether I could find a new job. To my surprise, things turned out smoother than I had anticipated. I secured a job at a design firm in a barrier-free environment. The conditions were great. The firm even arranged a private parking space for me.

Five years have passed since we moved to Chiba. Every day at work has been a series of trials and tribulations and victories. My wife is also a designer, and she and I have cried together, laughed together and rejoiced together. Our life has been one big roller coaster ride. Now, after five years of practicing Nichiren Buddhism, I feel my horizons have expanded and I have developed a higher and deeper perspective on life, which I believe is reflected in my work.

In January 2005, I took another courageous step and launched my own design firm. I have been blessed with stimulating projects such as creating an official website for an art museum. The Shizuoka Tourism Board gave me an award for the website I designed for a recreation facility. Through my work, I have conveyed my message to many people, which has been my heartfelt dream. This is all because I was able to cultivate my own life, for which I am deeply grateful.
Last year marked my second decade of becoming disabled and the tenth anniversary of my joining Soka Gakkai. I may be physically disabled but in my heart I am freer than anyone else! In partnership with my wife, I am determined to develop myself even more and live my life together with my fellow SGI members and my mentor, who taught me how to put the philosophy of Nichiren Buddhism into practice.

[Adapted from an experience appearing in the September 6, 2006 issue of the Seikyo Shimbun, Soka Gakkai, Japan]

Genuine Change in Society Begins with "Human Revolution"

Genuine Change in Society Begins with "Human Revolution"
By David Woodger, UK

David Woodger, 43, lecturer at the Department of Professional and Community Education at Goldsmiths College, University of London, and an SGI-UK men's leader, is actively engaged in efforts to improve the daily lives and educational opportunities of Londons's minority black community. Himself a victim of racial discrimination, growing up as a British Indian in British society, David talks about how his Buddhist practice helped him to transform his deep anger and resentment into a joyful life devoted to battling the true causes of racism.

Every time he was abused and bullied at school and in the neighborhood, David would feel heaviness in his heart. "Why do I have to go through this?..." he would ask himself. David was born of Indian parents but because they could not look after him, when he was three months old he was placed for adoption.


"My English parents, who were white, brought me up with much love and care. When I started going to primary school, however, I began to realize I was different from others. I was looked at and treated differently."

When he entered secondary school, David was a victim of constant racial prejudice-his classmates continued to harass and verbally abuse him. His anguish intensified.

When he entered secondary school, David was a victim of constant racial prejudice-his classmates continued to harass and verbally abuse him. His anguish intensified.

After graduating from university, David began working for a non-governmental organization committed to uprooting racial discrimination. He became absorbed in his work as a social activist in the black community. But no matter how hard he tried he could not see a way to change deeply engrained racial prejudices.

"What else am I supposed to do?" he despaired. Filled with deep antagonism toward society, David meanwhile suffered from humiliation and a sense of powerlessness from his tireless work against the authorities with little change.

It was around then that David met a senior at work who shared with him a different viewpoint on the problem of racism. His view was that although racial minorities have been known to instigate public disturbances in the U.K., and many are unemployed, they aren't entirely at fault. He also said racism was a sign of social decay and reflected the local officials' exclusivist attitudes and sentiments towards minorities. He continued, "Whether someone is a minority or an authority, what's required is an inner transformation and a shift in mindset. That's what it'll take to bring about genuine change in society."

David was stunned. These were words he least expected to hear from a "white" person. As they continued their discussions, David began to realize that he had been concentrating on trying to change the system and the attitudes of society at large, which were only surface manifestations of a deeper problem.

Several months later David learned that the senior at work was an SGI member practicing Nichiren Buddhism. One day, at his suggestion, David tried chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. "I'll never forget what happened when I first chanted. All the pent up emotions and feelings that I had been suppressing since childhood came gushing out. I couldn't hold back my tears. I felt liberated from the anger I had hidden inside me towards my birth parents and the hatred towards society. As I continued to chant I began to want to be the kind of activist who could sincerely empathize with those who have experienced the same suffering I went through."

In 1994 David made the decision to join SGI. Soon after, he came across an article in an SGI-UK organization publication about SGI President Daisaku Ikeda's meeting with Nelson Mandela, someone David held in high esteem. In their discussion, Mr. Ikeda touched upon Nichiren, who was born into the lowest caste of Japanese society and therefore was also on the side of the "marginalized." Despite the prestige he could have gained as an educated priest, Nichiren dauntlessly dedicated his life on behalf of the common people to establishing a life philosophy rooted in deep respect for life. David was also deeply moved to learn that during his 27-year imprisonment, Mandela had read a book by Mr. Ikeda. This inspired him to avidly read Mr. Ikeda's writings and fully embrace the practice of Nichiren Buddhism, including participating in local SGI activities.

It was in June 1994 that David first encountered Mr. Ikeda, who was visiting Taplow Court (the SGI-UK Center in the suburbs of London). David was asked to help staff the activities during his stay. Still new to the SGI, David did not know much about the SGI leader, but from witnessing Mr. Ikeda's interaction with the local members, he remembers thinking, "This is the kind of person I can trust and the kind of person I can work with."

As David continued his Buddhist practice, his approach to tackling various issues facing the black community began to change. Whereas before, he would be filled with hatred and hurl his anger at perpetrators of racial discrimination, after he began chanting daily David learned to be more tolerant and opted for patient, tenacious dialogue instead of confrontation. This change bore fruit.

"The same senior officials of local government and organizations that I had been fighting against were now partners with me in working for the betterment of society. We were able to collaborate on projects and gain the government's support in setting up projects and developments in the black community and most importantly encourage white professionals inside public organizations to reflect on their practice and services to black and racial minority communities."

In autumn 1997, David participated in an SGI training session in Tokyo, Japan, where he was able to attend a meeting with Mr. Ikeda once again. This time he was able to report on the breakthroughs he had made in his work.

"Listening to Mr. Ikeda's speech, I was inspired by how he stressed the importance of engaging in dialogues that reach people's hearts and education that fosters people who work for the betterment of society. I made a firm resolve to follow in my mentor's footsteps and reach out to more people and raise awareness toward abolishing racial discrimination in the U.K. I chanted so I could open new avenues in my work in the arena of education."

A year later, David was asked by the University of London to present a talk on racism. Without reserve, he spoke about his own painful experiences of being discriminated against since childhood and of his work in the black community, addressing the causes of racism in public institutions. The students and teachers gained much from his lecture and the university offered him a job as a lecturer in the Department of Professional and Community Education at Goldsmith College.

"I told them I was deeply honored by their offer but that I had to continue my work in the forefront of society."

The university's response was "Of course!" David was hired under exceptional circumstances. His hands-on experience with racial discrimination is reflected in his lectures and research papers, which have gained wide approval. His research papers were carried in several academic journals in the U.K. One titled "Institutional Racism: Holding up a Mirror to Health Practitioners and Managers" was published in the Fondazione Eni Enrico Mattei (FEEM) EURODIV Papers, which comments on cultural diversity in Europe.

When terrorists bombed central London in July 2005, the local Islamic community became the target of harsh criticism and unreasonable bigotry. David continued visiting friends and acquaintances in the Islamic community and strengthened friendships and trust.

[Adapted from an article in the January 8, 2007 issue of the Seikyo Shimbun, Soka Gakkai, Japan]

Fighting My Delusions

Fighting My Delusions
By Paola Ciuffoletti Furunovic, Serbia

I felt no hunger, I couldn't sleep, I stopped laughing; I couldn't find any sense in anything I did, in my work, in words, in life. My mind was chained in an infinite series of negative thoughts in which everything lost its usual dimensions and happiness seemed like a mirage, completely unobtainable.

In the first three years of university I had thrown myself into life and work, enjoying everything. Was it possible that this was also me? I had fallen sick with a disease I had never experienced before, an illness of life which I did not know how to fight, known as depression.

At that time, I got in touch with my close friend Daniela. Several months before she had told me about her Buddhist practice, so I asked her, "Are you still doing that thing? If so, I'll come with you to a meeting." That was 2000, and the start of a big change for me.

In the past seven years, thanks to my regular activities in the "SGI gym," first in Italy and now Serbia, I have learned to look inside myself and see that every person needs to be understood and respected as a unique "universe"; that every one of us is a Buddha. I know that through my Buddhist practice I can embrace everyone, even people who are far away, as what matters most is the sincerity of our heart and mind. I also learned that everything in our lives can be used in a positive way. It all depends on us.

Recently, depression knocked at my door again. This time I was completely shocked, asking, "Am I right back where I was seven years ago? What's going on? This isn't possible, after all my sincere efforts for others!" However, I was then able to understand that obstacles will always face us just at the moment when we are making great progress and that our weakest points are naturally where we are most vulnerable. The negative aspects of our lives will lead us to the deluded belief that reality is only as we perceive it in such moments; small, vile and meaningless. But it is not like that. In those dark moments, when everything seems useless, it is good to remember that these thoughts and perceptions are nothing but illusions of the mind.

This time I was quicker to recover: I wanted to win over this, and win right now. I made efforts to help others, and sought advice and support in my faith; suddenly I understood the deeper meaning of this--that I can use it to encourage other people in the same situation. And then came the realization that, in the Buddhist scheme of things, the state of Buddhahood also exists within the world of hell, at the same time. The important thing is to be able to remember this at the crucial moment and not give up.

Now when I am suffering, the first thing I do is search out my fellow Buddhists, so we can practice together. For someone like me, who found it very difficult to say what I felt, this has been an extraordinary change. I had always felt that to look for help from others was the equivalent of capitulation, and to admit that I was feeling bad was a defeat. To be able to share both joy and suffering with others is today a great victory.

I feel deep gratitude to all those who have encouraged me, and I would like to offer a fresh breath of hope to all those who have given up, as I had before. I am determined to build a harmonious family and experience happiness in any circumstances. I feel fortunate to live in this wonderful country of Serbia together with my husband and son, and to be part of the small group of SGI members here.

[Adapted from SGI Quarterly, October 2007]

Learning How To Expand My Capacity

Learning How To Expand My Capacity
By Wing Lee, USA

Wing Lee transforms his introverted nature into self-confidence and opens the door to a successful career.

I lost my father to kidney disease when I was seven. He was a loving parent, a devoted husband and a sincere, genuine man.

My father ran a small print shop business for my grandfather in Hong Kong. During the last three years of his life, my father's condition worsened until he was bedridden. My grandparents, however, offered no assistance, and two days after my father died, they disowned my mother and me. We were left with nothing, not even a place to stay.

While looking for work, my mother ran into a friend. When she learned about our situation, she immediately introduced my mother to the SGI. My mother had pretty much given up on religion after trying many while my father was ill. With nothing left to lose, she decided to give Nichiren Buddhism a try.

Soon after my mother started chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, my father's business associates contacted her. They had learned what my grandparents had done and wanted to help my mother open her own printing business. My father's clients also called and said they would support her.

This was a bold venture for a single woman to undertake in Hong Kong in the early 1970s. But with confidence and wisdom gained from her prayers, she opened her own business. My mother worked countless hours, often doing hard manual labor, to reestablish our lives.

With my mother's hectic work schedule, I was usually at home alone. I took up hobbies I could do alone--photography, reading and computer programming. I got so used to being by myself, though, that I became an introvert. I shied away from social activities and had problems expressing myself to others.

I did, however, attend SGI youth activities in Hong Kong and received tremendous support from the local members. Even so, by my late teens, I still had not established my own Buddhist practice and lived a rather sheltered life.

My mother, becoming aware of my self-centered nature and my dependence on her, decided to send me to the United States to pursue my college education. While I'm sure was difficult to send her only child thousands of miles away to a foreign land, I know now that she did it out of deep compassion for my growth and happiness.

I attended two semesters at the University of Oklahoma and later transferred to the University of Texas in Austin to study computer science. In both cities, I was immediately embraced by the SGI-USA members and invited to district meetings. I began learning more about the practice and faith of Nichiren Buddhism as I listened to people from all walks of life share their experiences.

I was given many opportunities to participate in district activities. Initially, I wasn't comfortable speaking in front of others, but because my leaders were so sincere and supportive, I felt I should at least try. The first time I read aloud from the World Tribune at a meeting, I held the newspaper in front of my face to avoid eye contact with others. But as I repeatedly challenged my shyness and continued to chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, I became more comfortable speaking at meetings. I eventually assumed responsibility as a young men's leader in the district.
My young men's leader in Austin was also a fellow student at the university. He had a strong sense of mission to work galongsideh SGI President Daisaku Ikeda to create peace. He inspired me to study President Ikeda's writings as well as the fundamentals of Nichiren Buddhism. He patiently took time to explain various Buddhist topics in ways that I could relate to. I began to apply what I was learning to my daily life.

As I became more active in SGI-USA, I found that the activities in which I supported "from behind the scenes" furthered my growth to a greater degree. Like other youth members of the activity support groups, I stood in the parking lot greeting members as they arrived for meetings and as they returned home. Through my efforts, I gained a deeper understanding of President Ikeda's behavior--how he ceaselessly shows his deepest appreciation for others' efforts--and I was able to expand my own capacity to care for the people around me.

These activities constantly offered me new challenges. I planned monthly world peace prayer meetings and coordinated logistics for numerous major events. With each new responsibility, I gained more confidence in myself and learned how to work cooperatively with others--skills one cannot learn in the world of academia alone.

My Buddhist practice propelled me to complete a double degree in Information Systems and Management at the University of Texas in Austin in 1990 and then land a great job. Even though the U.S. was in an economic recession, I secured more than 20 interviews and was offered jobs from four highly regarded companies. Meanwhile, many of my classmates from other countries couldn't find jobs and had to return to their homelands.

I have been with a leading telecommunications company for close to 14 years and have enjoyed a trailblazing career. I led the development of the software infrastructure for the company's core network and played a key role in the launch of the nation's first high-speed wireless data network in 2001. I now oversee the company's technology innovation activities.

I've been invited to speak at nearly 40 industry conferences across four continents and serve on advisory boards at numerous high-tech companies. I was also awarded six U.S. patents for my inventions in communications technology and have 20 more pending applications at the U.S. Patent Office. As a result of the value I've created for the company, I am the unique recipient of both the company's highest technical achievement and business leadership awards.

One of my most gratifying professional recognitions was being named Asian American Engineer of the Year at the 2002 National Engineers Week, along with Nobel Laureate Leo Esaki and former Chancellor of the University of California at Berkeley, Chang-Lin Tein.

I'm confident that the wisdom and fortune I have gained through supporting and protecting my local SGI organization and taking care of members directed my life toward developing a momentous career. The values I learned from President Ikeda, likewise, have enabled me to be a humanistic, yet effective leader in the role I play at work. Most importantly, I have learned how to overcome obstacles through the power of prayer and taking action. I learned how to be victorious in my daily life, using my Buddhist practice to bring out the limitless capability inherent in my life.

Not only has my career blossomed, the previous shy introvert is now married to a caring and beautiful woman, Carol, and we have two darling daughters, Vanessa and Serena. We are very grateful to our mentor in life, President Ikeda, for providing us with the most wonderful organization in which to practice Nichiren Buddhism--the global family of the SGI. And I am so appreciative for the wisdom and compassion that my mother had for me at such a critical time in my life.

[Adapted from an article in the March 21, 2008 issue of the World Tribune, SGI-USA; photo courtesy of the World Tribune]

Making a Difference

Making a Difference
By Lulu McLennan, U.K.

I am 28 years old and have the good fortune to have been born into a family that practices Nichiren Buddhism. However, I have had an ongoing struggle with actually practicing this Buddhism, in other words I had an abundance of doubt, asked a lot of questions and had a lot of encouragement from other people. For most of my life, I have had a practice "like fire," which means that when I felt inspired or had a big problem, I would chant. The rest of the time a couple of minutes' chanting a day was more than enough. I really believed Nichiren Buddhism worked for other people--just not for me.

In 2006, I decided to join the group of young women who support the smooth running of activities from behind the scenes at the SGI-UK national center, Taplow Court. I really enjoy this activity and I think it was a last-ditch attempt to develop a solid Buddhist practice. Everyone told me it would change my life but I didn't want my life to change. I already had a great job, a great family and a great boyfriend!

As part of our activity we were encouraged to study the first two volumes of The New Human Revolution, written by SGI President Daisaku Ikeda. This is an account of how Nichiren Buddhism spread across the world. I found the books very inspiring but I was initially uncomfortable with so much of the books being about Mr. Ikeda's activities.

I work as a pediatric nurse in the children's emergency department at a South London Hospital, which is on the border of Lambeth and Southwark, two of the more deprived London boroughs. There are many children whose lives are affected by violence and other problems associated
with such deprivation. We often deal with unpleasant situations, which I found I started getting used to. I seldom felt sad about the things I saw. My colleagues also seemed to be unaffected too. And they felt bored and unappreciated. On the whole we were quite an unhappy bunch.

At the beginning of this year my mum was part of a group who went to Japan for a Buddhist study course. I was surprised by how her trip affected me--I found that I wanted to chant more. I also felt that I really should begin to understand the mentor-disciple relationship, an important concept in Buddhism.

It became clear to me that I had very little faith in my ability to make a difference. And I began to see why President Ikeda writes so confidently. He has done amazing things, met great people and works hard to create a peaceful world. He has done all of this because he had a great mentor in Josei Toda. Why wouldn't somebody write proudly of those experiences? Also, he achieved these things as an ordinary human being, with lots of problems and struggles along the way. So he is in a sense saying, "If I can do these things, so could any of us!"

Soon after this realization, I very quickly had an overwhelming sense that something needed to change at work. How could I make a difference? I found myself writing a proposal, which I called "A Vision of Peace," for the children's area in the emergency department.

This proposal came directly from my chanting and from my heart. It began with a quotation from President Ikeda: "If we seem to be weathering an endless winter, we must not abandon hope, as long as we have hope, spring will come without fail."

One of my ideas was to create a "dream tree" where all the children, parents and staff could write a hope or dream on a leaf and put it on the tree. I decided to give the proposal to the Accident and Emergency consultant, the matron, the nursing manager and all the people I work with.

I chanted, then went to work the next day, armed with my vision of peace and a trembling hand. I walked in to find that there had been a terrible death overnight. So I had a moment of doubt, which I overcame and then began giving out my vision.

Later in the day the matron came down to tell me how inspiring he found my ideas and asked when I could get started. The consultant was pleased that somebody was thinking outside of the box.

A young woman in my local SGI-UK district painted a beautiful tree, which I attached to the wall in the middle of the night in February, along with the quote from President Ikeda that had originally inspired me. The staff on the night shift were so excited and they wrote amazing dreams for the future.

The tree is now literally full of children's, parents' and staff's dreams and we are planning to paint a dream sea.

I want to make even more of a difference with my life from this moment onwards. I will not accept that children are born wanting to kill as some seem to think--it must be learned behavior. I'm determined to use my life to ensure that somehow the children of Southwark and Lambeth learn a different way, as after all prevention is better than cure. If we are able to change just one person's day or give one child the ability to believe in their dreams, then we have been able to do so much more than just treat an illness or fix a wound. At the end of the day, health is much more than just the absence of illness.

Now I can see that even the small amount of chanting I did, along with the continuous support of my family and many SGI members has not been wasted. With a growing appreciation for the mentor-disciple relationship, I now have the kind of commitment to my Buddhist practice that I have always wanted and this is my greatest benefit. I can't wait to see what happens next!

[Adapted from an article in the January 2008 issue of the Art of Living, SGI-UK]