The Joy of Spring

The Joy of Spring
Spiritual Story by Brenda Barnhart


I am Jolly Joy, and I'm a happiness! But you, as a human, might know of me as simply, 'sunflower'. Little do you know that we flowers have our own identities and souls, for indeed we do, along with divine purpose and goals, albeit our goals are much simpler than yours?

For instance, my goal in this new incarnation is to feel the Joy of Spring! To you this may seem frivolous, but to me, it is everything. It is all I know, all I yearn for, and all that I live for. The life of a 'sunflower' is nothing if not for spring.

You see, for me, it all began with a seed, and this seed was watered and nurtured by the sun and the earth, so that I may come and experience my Joy of Spring. This is all I want, this is all I will be, and this is simply perfect and divine, at least for me.

The sun and the earth know who and what I am. They know me more than as simply 'sunflower'. They know my essence, they know my needs, and they know my true divinity. Indeed, the sun and the earth know me, as intimately as they know you! And they love me just the same, too.

For the sun and the earth are like my 'parents', as you know parents to be, at least. They incepted me, grow me and support me all throughout my experience. Even after I am picked by human hands, the sun and the earth still look after me, for you see, once my experience with the Joy of Spring is over, it is back to the sun and the earth that I return.

But that is for a later day, indeed, for now my focus is on the New! Spring is here and the time is now for me to join humanity and sprout my seed, spread my roots, and become the bloom I'm meant to be, and it's all for Spring, you see?

The Joy of Spring means drinking up the morning dew, quenching my thirst and feeling the breath of life move through my being down through my stem, into the beloved earth below. Then feeling the suns caressive rays permeating my silken petals as the sweet little bumble bee drinks of my nectar, spreading my essence for future sunflowers, making it possible for my descendants to experience the Joys of Spring.

Daily Wisdom - The Teaching, Practice and Proof

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, April 27, 2012:

The five characters of Myoho-renge-kyo, the heart of the essential teaching of the Lotus Sutra, contain the benefit amassed through the countless practices and meritorious deeds of all Buddhas throughout the three existences. Then, how can these five characters not include the benefits obtained by observing all of the Buddhas' precepts?

The Teaching, Practice and Proof
Written to Sammi-bo on March 21, 1275

Daily Wisdom - Overcoming Karma

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, April 26, 2012:

There are two types of illness: minor and serious. Early treatment by a skilled physician can cure even serious illnesses, not to mention minor ones. Karma also may be divided into two categories: fixed and unfixed. Sincere repentance will eradicate even fixed karma, to say nothing of karma that is unfixed.

On Prolonging One's Life Span
Written to the lay nun Myojo in 1279

The Harvest

Spiritual Story by Malladi Venkata Krishna Murthy

There was once a spider who lived in a cornfield. He was a big spider and he had spun a beautiful web between the corn stalks. He got fat eating all the bugs that would get caught in his web. He liked his home and planned to stay there for the rest of his life.

One day the spider caught a little bug in his web, and just as the spider was about to eat him, the bug said, "If you let me go I will tell you something important that will save your life." The spider paused for a moment and listened because he was amused. "You better get out of this cornfield," the little bug said, "The harvest is coming!"

The spider smiled and said, "What is this harvest you are talking about? I think you are just telling me a story." But the little bug said, "Oh no, it is true. The owner of this field is coming to harvest it soon. All the stalks will be knocked down and the corn will be gathered up. You will be killed by the giant machines if you stay here."

The spider said, "I don't believe in harvests and giant machines that knock down corn stalks. How can you prove this?" The little bug continued, "Just look at the corn. See how it is planted in rows? It proves this field was created by an intelligent designer." The spider laughed and mockingly said, "This field has evolved and has nothing to do with a creator. Corn always grows that way."

The bug went on to explain, "Oh no. This field belongs to the owner who planted it, and the harvest is coming soon." The spider grinned and said to the little bug, "I don't believe you," and then the spider ate the little bug for lunch.

A few days later, the spider was laughing about the story the little bug had told him. He thought to himself, "A harvest! What a silly idea. I have lived here all of my life and nothing has ever disturbed me. I have been here since these stalks were just a foot off the ground, and I'll be here for the rest of my life, because nothing is ever going to change in this field. Life is good, and I have it made."

The next day was a beautiful sunny day in the cornfield. The sky above was clear and there was no wind at all. That afternoon as the spider was about to take a nap, he noticed some thick dusty clouds moving toward him. He could hear the roar of a great engine and he said to himself, "I wonder what that could be?"

Daily Wisdom - The world of Buddhahood is present in the human world

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, April 25, 2012:

Buddhahood is the most difficult to demonstrate. But since you possess the other nine worlds, you should believe that you have Buddhahood as well. Do not permit yourself to have doubts. Expounding on the human world, the Lotus Sutra says, "The Buddhas wish to open the door of Buddha wisdom to all living beings." . . . That ordinary people born in the latter age can believe in the Lotus Sutra is due to the fact that the world of Buddhahood is present in the human world.

The Object of Devotion for Observing the Mind Established in the Fifth Five-Hundred-Year Period after the Thus Come One's Passing
Written to Toki Jonin on April 25, 1273

Daily Wisdom - Reply to Hoshina Goro Taro

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, April 24, 2012:

What matters most is that we honor the Buddha's words. As a rule, people in the world value what is distant and despise what is near, but this is the conduct of the ignorant. Even the distant should be repudiated if it is wrong, while what is near should not be discarded if it accords with the truth. Even though people may revere [their predecessors' doctrines], if those doctrines are in error, how can we employ them today?

Reply to Hoshina Goro Taro
Written to Hoshina Goro Taro on December 5, 1267

Daily Wisdom - Unseen Virtue and Visible Reward

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, April 23, 2012:

As I have often mentioned before, it is said that, where there is unseen virtue, there will be visible reward. Your fellow samurai all slandered you to your lord, and he also has wondered if it was true, but because you have for some years now honestly maintained a strong desire for your lord's welfare in his next life, you received a blessing like this. This is just the beginning; be confident that the great reward also is sure to come.

Unseen Virtue and Visible Reward
Written to Shijo Kingo on April 23, 1278

Daily Wisdom - On the Treasure Tower

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, April 22, 2012:

In the Latter Day of the Law, no treasure tower exists other than the figures of the men and women who embrace the Lotus Sutra. It follows, therefore, that whether eminent or humble, high or low, those who chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo are themselves the treasure tower, and, likewise, are themselves the Thus Come One Many Treasures.

On the Treasure Tower
Written to Abutsu-bo Nittoku on March 13, 1272

The Happiness Box

Spiritual Story by Naria Satrick

In a nameless fishing village on the shores of a nameless sea, there lived a young boy whose joy it was to run up and down the beach, collecting pebbles and shells. At the end of each day, he would keep only the most beautiful of those he had collected, and bring them back to his secret place in the village - an old cellar beneath the ruins of a hut swept away by a long forgotten flood. There he polished them with bits of cloth and ribbon he had scavenged from his mother's sewing. He polished them until they gleamed and reflected the light, until he could see his blurred reflection on the surface.

One day, the boy was walking across the packed, wet sand, he saw a small box, no bigger than his closed fist, sitting on the ground. He watched it for a moment, curious, as the gentle foam rose and fell, covering it and uncovering it. It was deep blue in color, like the deepest parts of the ocean, and perfectly square. The day was growing late, and each wave that crashed was stronger than the last. The box trembled as the waters washed over it, and the boy knew that in a few more minutes it would be gone, pulled back to sea. Without giving it another thought, he leaned over and picked it up, and dropped it into his bag of shells and stones.

That night, he polished the box until it glowed in the candlelight, cleaning off the corrosion of the ocean. It seemed to be illuminated from within, its surface strangely iridescent, the light played across it almost as if something within were moving. The box was held closed by two latches, one on either side, both were heavily corroded. The boy painstakingly chipped off the ocean's grime until the hinges gleamed. Almost subconsciously, the boy found himself building a shrine from the pebbles, decorating the shells. Almost reverently, he placed the box on top of this makeshift temple. And there it stayed.

It wasn't until years later, when that young boy was almost a man, who had long since given up his daily collecting, that curiousity finally overcame him. He crawled beneath the ruins to the compartment below, that had seemed so much bigger before. The box seemed to be humming, to be filling the entire chamber with a strange blue light. He removed it from its pedestal and twisted the latches. Despite his careful cleaning of them, the left-most latch was stuck. He tried to unlodge it with the point of his pocket knife,but it wouldn't move. Frustrated, he wedged the knife beneath the latch and slammed the hilt, hard, against the ground. The latch flew off, impacting the ground several feet away. The blue light in the room seemed to swirl and dim. Suddenly aghast, he placed the box back in its place on the top of the 'altar', and climbed out of the chamber.

Shortly afterwards, the dreams began. A voice would come to him in the night, though it didn't seem to be talking to him. Many of the words he did not understand. The voice said, "Inside the box you will find happiness. Step inside and you will be filled with happiness for the rest of your days. You may leave the box at any time, though I must say, no one who has ever entered it has left. Why would they? They were happy."

Just that, and sometimes he'd hear the ocean. As he grew older he kept having the dream, though his daily life, once one of play, was now one of toil. Each day he'd steer his boats and cast his nets, each day he'd haul in and clean the fish, and each morning he'd walk several miles to the market where he'd lay them on the stalls. He'd stand till the heat of midday touched him, then return to his boats and cast off again. All the young women of his village had long since found husbands and left, and he found himself growing old and alone, with nothing but his work. He wasn't unhappy, but nor did he work with joy. Day by day, he began to feel more and more empty.

He still had the dream, though much less often now. More and more often he wondered why he had never opened the box, but the memory of the spinning blue dimness still warned him away. But what if it were true? What if by stepping inside the box he could be happy always? And end his daily toil? What if within that box were all the answers he had spent his life seeking?

But then he would struggle with the idea. For how could he know joy, if he had never known sorrow? What would happiness mean, if it was only a dream overlaid on his soul? But then reason would gnaw at him, for if he were truly 'happy', inside the box, such questions would not concern him. Only bliss. He'd worked hard for everything in his life, and it was the work he enjoyed. Yes, his collection of shells and stones was beautiful, but it was the years he spent perfecting him that brought him joy, not looking upon them now.

So the years went by, until the once-boy was now a bent and stooped old man, with long white hair. The last winter had been very hard, and he knew that he would not survive another. He forced his aching body to climb down into the hole in the ground and retrieve the box where it had stayed, undisturbed, for almost a century. And then he walked across the sand, up to the highest cliff overlooking the sea where the water breaks itself apart upon the jagged rocks below. It was evening, and the sun had just started to paint the distant waves a glassy yellow, the sky had just started to dim. He drove the end of his walking-stick into the ground, then stepped past it, to the edge of the precipice. This will be my only marker, he thinks.

And then, holding the box in his hands, thinking how small it seemed now in these old, decrepit hands, he leaned forward only slightly, but enough for the wind to pick up his robes and lift him aloft, and then he spiralled down, like a wounded butterfly falling to earth. His body was never found.

Was he broken apart by the rocks, and swept far out to see? Or did he open the box, in the last moments of his life, to accept the promised gift of happiness from within? Why did he bring the box with him, if not for this? Or maybe he sought to send it to the depths from which it came, so that others will not be tempted. No one will ever know what became of him or of the box that he carried.

The only answers we can find are the ones when we look within ourselves and ask:

"Would you open the box?"

Daily Wisdom - The Daimoku of the Lotus Sutra

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, April 21, 2012:

Amber draws dust, and a magnet attracts iron particles; here our evil karma is like the dust or iron, and the daimoku of the Lotus Sutra is like the amber or the magnet. If we consider these [analogies, we can see why] we should always chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

The Daimoku of the Lotus Sutra
Recipient unknown; written on January 6, 1266

Daily Wisdom - Persecution by Sword and Staff

rom the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Friday, April 20, 2012:

From the time that I was born until today, I, Nichiren, have never known a moment's ease; I have thought only of propagating the daimoku of the Lotus Sutra. I do not know how long I or anyone else may live, but without fail, I will be with you at the time of your death and guide you from this life to the next.

Persecution by Sword and Staff
Written to Nanjo Tokimitsu on April 20, 1279

The Forgotten Path to Abundance

Spiritual Story by Sandy Penny

For years I have practiced "Prosperity Through Generosity" sometimes known as tithing or sharing the wealth. Whenever I receive money, I share it with others even though I may not have a lot of cash at the time. I have learned that, by continuing to share, the energy keeps moving and more money comes in. I also tithe in time by doing my work for no charge when someone can truly not afford it. This has afforded me the opportunity to do many things that I might not have done because of lack of funds. One day, while musing on the subject, I got a little hungry, so off I went to one of my favorite restaurants, not knowing that Spirit had a special challenge and a lesson for me.

I headed over to the Enchanted Garden (nice name eh?), and they knew me because I ate there a lot. It was one of my regular hangouts. When I walked in, the regular waitress came over and introduced me to a new waitress. The new waitress, Mary, knowing that I was into spiritual studies had a story and a question for me. She told me how she had been out of work and down to her last $43. She was driving to a job interview and on the way saw a woman holding a baby and a sign that said, "Baby needs Dr. please help." Being soft-hearted, she pulled over to the woman and reached into her purse and handed her $3. As she drove away, in the rear view mirror, she could see the woman clasping her hands and shouting, "Thank you, thank you, thank the Lord."

She thought, "Wow, a lousy $3 makes her so happy," and she felt good about having given it to her even though her funds were low. When she arrived at her interview, she looked in her purse and found that she had given the woman two twenties and a one instead of three ones. She now had $2 to her name. She was kicking herself and couldn't believe she had given away her last money. The next day she got the job at Enchanted Garden. She asked what I thought about all that.

I told her not to be upset about the money, that perhaps that woman needed exactly that amount for the doctor and that she may have been praying for it. Mary may have been the instrument to answer her prayer and change her belief about prayers being answered and about life in general. She said that was a good way to look at it. That being said, I headed for the ladies room.

While in the ladies room, my guides said to me, "Give her back the money." I protested that I did not get paid for two more days and I wasn't even sure if I had that much in my bank account. They insisted, so I wrote a check for $50 and wrote prosperity through generosity at the bottom. I asked the other waitress to give it to her after I left so she wouldn't refuse it and wouldn't be embarrassed.

But that started me thinking about my checking account, so I went to balance it and see if all my checks were in and how much money I actually had left. I did not want my gesture to be negated by a bounced check. When I did that, I found that I had an extra $500 that could not be accounted for anywhere in my deposits, and all the checks had cleared the account. Suddenly I had 10 times what I had just given away. I felt it was a major sign for me. And that was a huge lesson, but the biggest lesson was yet to come.

A month later I received a letter from Mary. She said, "I don't know if you remember me, but I just wanted to tell you that I never cashed your check for $50. Money started to come to me from all directions. I framed the check and put it on my wall, and whenever anyone comes into my home, I tell them the story of your generosity."

I choked up and cried. I still can't tell that story without
getting misty. And I got the message to think about how many people were being affected by that simple gesture while following my guidance. I will never know exactly how many people were moved by that story, but it was a very powerful lesson for me, and a much better reward than the $500. The small random acts of kindness that we do ripple out into the world and create all kinds of abundance, and it comes back from all directions.

Ever since that day, when I give a tip, pay my bills or receive money of any sort, I hold the money in my hands (and the hands of the giver and receiver whenever possible) and say this... "Divine Love through me blesses and multiplies all the good I am and have, all the good I give and receive, Bless the gift, the giver and the receiver. Bless and multiply and multiply and multiply."

After telling that story at a class, one of my students tried it and was amazed at what happened. She stopped to buy a sandwich from a charity fund raiser. They were complaining that business was slow because of rain. When she paid them, she said the blessing out loud so they could hear her. They thanked her, and immediately three cars drove up and placed large orders for food. They looked at her and said, "You did that." She smiled and continued her day, knowing that however it happened, that something had happened. It became a mystical experience for all concerned. She felt great and continues to do this all the time now!

Daily Wisdom - Reply to the Lay Priest of Ko

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Thursday, April 19, 2012:

The human mind is inconstant; it is ever-changing and unfixed. I thought it wondrous that you pledged faith in my teachings while I was in the province of Sado, and your sincerity in sending your husband all the way here is even more remarkable. The provinces we live in are far apart, and months and years have passed, so I was concerned that you might slacken in your resolve. However, you are increasingly demonstrating the depth of your faith and accumulating good deeds. Surely this is not a result of practice over just one or two previous lifetimes.

Reply to the Lay Priest of Ko
Written to the Lay Priest of Ko on April 12, 1275

Daily Wisdom - The Essence of the "Life Span" Chapter

rom the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Wednesday, April 18, 2012:

Were it not for the presence of the "Life Span" chapter among all the teachings of Shakyamuni, they would be like the heavens without the sun and moon, a kingdom without a king, the mountains and seas without treasures, or a person without a soul. This being so, without the "Life Span" chapter, all the sutras are meaningless.

The Essence of the "Life Span" Chapter
Recipient unknown; written on April 17, 1271

The File Room

Spiritual Story by Brian Moore

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.
"Books I Have Read,"
"Lies I Have Told,"
"Comfort I have Given,"
"Jokes I Have Laughed at."

Some were almost hilarious in their exactness:
"Things I've yelled at my brothers."

Others I couldn't laugh at:
"Things I Have Done in My Anger"
"Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.

" I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched ," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.

One thought dominated my mind:

No one must ever see these cards!

No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!"

In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With."

The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all.

The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards.

I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments, couldn't bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room.

He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him.

His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Daily Wisdom - Believeing in the Lotus Sutra

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Tuesday, April 17, 2012:

Even if the sun and moon should never again emerge from the east, even if the great earth itself should turn over, even if the tides of the great ocean should cease to ebb and flow, even if broken stones are made whole, and even if the waters of the streams and rivers cease to flow into the ocean, no woman who believes in the Lotus Sutra could ever be dragged down by worldly faults and fall into the evil paths.

The Recitation of the "Expedient Means" and "Life Span" Chapters
Written to the wife of Hiki Daigaku Saburo Yoshimoto on April 17, 1264

Daily Wisdom -The three obstacles and four devils

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Monday, April 16, 2012:

[T'ien-t'ai writes:] "As practice progresses and understanding grows, the three obstacles and four devils emerge in confusing form, vying with one another to interfere. . . . One should be neither influenced nor frightened by them. If one falls under their influence, one will be led into the paths of evil. If one is frightened by them, one will be prevented from practicing the correct teaching." This statement not only applies to me, but also is a guide for my followers. Reverently make this teaching your own, and transmit it as an axiom of faith for future generations.

Letter to the Brothers
Written to Ikegami Munenaka and Ikegami Munenaga on April 16, 1275

The Devil's Dreams

Spiritual Story by Steven Aitchison

The street lights barley lit the empty, darkened road as yet another human slowly walked, looking around him wondering why he was there. Rows and rows of buildings with black doors lined the road. And then he appeared, the Devil, dressed in a black suit, black shining shoes and a smile as wide as the Golden Gate.

“What is this place?” asked the human

“Your life!” replied the devil smiling excitedly “Your life, and all it’s darkest moments filled with regret, sadness and despair.” The devil led the human to one of the doors and motioned for the human to open the door.

Tentatively the human slowly opened the door and peaked at what lay beyond it. His mouth opened wide at the sight before him.

He saw himself in a beautiful house laughing and fooling around with his children and his wife looking at them in the background, content and happy. There was his dream car sitting in the driveway, a dog barking excitedly running around and chasing birds on the lawn and neighbours mulling around doing their gardens. The human looked at the devil:

“What is this, I split up from my wife years ago?”

“Yes you did!” the devil replied, laughing and almost skipping to the next door. “Look in this one, look in this one.”

The human, puzzled, opened another black door. Again his mouth fell open. He saw himself again sunning himself on the deck of a boat with his family and friends around him enjoying time together. His son sat at one end of the boat fishing whilst his other son was sitting next to him reading a book. He closed the door with a heavy heart.

“I don’t understand” the human said looking into the eyes of the devil.

“Ah, most people don’t. I love it, I love it!” the devil could barely contain himself. “Try another one.”

The human opened another door and saw himself working in some kind of workshop speaking to some other people he did not know. He looked around and saw a sign which read ‘DreamHomes’. The human gasped, this was the business he had always dreamt of starting up and didn’t follow through with it. It had been a pipedream to him and although his wife had encouraged him to go for it he never got round to it, instead electing to work for another building company with long hours and low pay. It started to dawn on the human, this was his dream life he was looking at, all the doors contained elements of his dream life.

“Why?” was all the human could ask.

“Why show you this? because this is all mine, for every dream you didn’t act on, I stole it and started living it. I live millions of dreams and it’s wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.” The devil was almost skipping with joy. “You human’s haven’t a clue. You are put on earth to live for around 70 years, you go to school for 20 of those years, work for 45 of those years and suffer for around five of those years until you eventually die. Yeah, you have a few enlightening moments and you follow a few dreams, which annoys the hell out of me, but on the whole you are all pretty much the same. It’s wonderful, I get to live out all these dreams.”

The human, saddened by the devils words, kept walking and came to a white door. The devil stopped smiling and looked at the human. “That’s your door.” he said, “this is where you live.” The human opened the door and saw himself working on a building site, he was high up on some scaffolding just staring out into the sunset and at that moment he was catapulted back to the building site, no devil, no road, just himself watching the sunset.

He looked at his watch, a few hours to go and he had to rush back to phone his son to ask him how his gig at the club went, his son had been playing in a band for a while and they were starting to get noticed. At that moment, he decided he was going to go to the club to see his son live instead of asking about it. He climbed down the scaffolding, walked to the site office, took off his hardhat and bid goodnight to the foreman.

Daily Wisdom - The Lotus Sutra

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Sunday, April 15, 2012:

The Lotus Sutra offers a secret means for leading all living beings to Buddhahood. It leads one person in the realm of hell, one person in the realm of hungry spirits, and thus one person in each of the nine realms of existence to Buddhahood, and thereby the way is opened for all living beings to attain Buddhahood.

Letter to Horen
Written to Soya Kyoshin in April 1275

Daily Wisdom - Flowering and Bearing Grain

From the Writings of Nichiren Daishonin
Saturday, April 14, 2012:

The rice plant flowers and bears grain, but its spirit remains in the soil. This is the reason the stalk sprouts to flower and bear grain once again. The blessings that Nichiren obtains from propagating the Lotus Sutra will always return to Dozen-bo. How sublime! It is said that, if a teacher has a good disciple, both will gain the fruit of Buddhahood, but if a teacher fosters a bad disciple, both will fall into hell. If teacher and disciple are of different minds, they will never accomplish anything.

Flowering and Bearing Grain
Written to Joken-bo and Gijo-bo in April 1278