FROM SGI-USA WOMEN'S LEADER MATILDA BUCK
THE ULTIMATE FREEDOM
What is this thing called human revolution? It's far more than mere self-improvement, Matilda Buck tells us.
Part 1 of a two-part essay on human revolution.
Everybody wants to improve. Just look at all the people hovering around the magazine
racks and book sections that dispense information on self-improvement.
When I was a girl of 10 or 11, there was a magazine called American Girl. It featured
articles on character building, how to be a good friend, three new ponytail styles. The ads
in the back enticed readers to send away for free booklets: How To Find Your Special Look,
Make Over Your Bedroom and my bible, Guide to Clear Skin. I wanted to improve.
Self-improvement, however, implies that we lack something or need to fix something in
order to be OK. Nichiren Buddhism points us to a more profound life change: realizing
our deepest identity, our innate Buddhahood and the transformation that comes with it—
our "human revolution."
"The Lotus Sutra teaches of the great hidden treasure of the heart, as vast as the universe
itself, which dispels any feelings of powerlessness," says SGI President Ikeda. "It teaches
a dynamic way of living in which we breathe the immense life of the universe itself. It
teaches the true adventure of self-reformation" (The Wisdom of the Lotus Sutra, vol. 1, p.
14).
Sometimes I think we interpret human revolution as self-improvement. Losing weight.
Breaking bad habits. Putting up with a bad situation. All of these things might be part of
our human revolution, but they are not the ultimate dynamic.
Second Soka Gakkai president Josei Toda said that another name for human revolution
is attaining Buddhahood. In Nichiren Buddhism, attaining Buddhahood is discovering the
greatness of our life and others'.
Human revolution is the great cause and great effect of our practice. We make the cause
for human revolution when we transcend a given situation by saying "I will challenge this
for the sake of my growth as a Bodhisattva of the Earth." Conversely, the effect of human
revolution is experienced as we continue our practice day by day and realize that we have
naturally deepened our compassion and profoundly changed our character. Its scope is
huge, yet it is necessary that each individual do this for the attainment of kosen-rufu. In
fact, our individual human revolution, collectively, is kosen-rufu.
Mr. Toda described his human revolution when he was imprisoned—a good example of
this cause and effect. Because he chanted to understand a certain point in the
Immeasurable Meanings Sutra (the 34 negatives)—which led to his profound
understanding that the Buddha is life itself—he gained the deep conviction that he was a
Bodhisattva of the Earth. Based on this, he resolved to make the Buddha's will to spread
Nam-myoho-renge-kyo his own.
Isn't it interesting that a prison cell—a place of no freedom at all—was exactly the
place of Mr. Toda's enlightenment? Instead of bitterness and blame in his cell, he strove to
understand, chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo over and over. In a sense, the SGI was born
in that tiny cell.
Someone once said that Nelson Mandela spent 28 years in prison preparing to become
the president of South Africa. His determination to not hate his guards spiritually
expanded a physically constricted life. He worked to build a sense of community with all
prisoners, even those who had been enemies. He took courses in law and economics by
mail. Those 28 years were spent polishing himself so that he could show the world a great
victory that manifested a great social change. It is this unshakable foundation that allows
him to say at age 84 what he said almost 50 years ago: "The struggle is my life."
These are great examples of people who transcended their circumstances. Not only did
they find great freedom, they initiated important changes for humanity. Their examples
inspire us to be better people.
So what about us? We may think that our spheres of influence are limited. Yet the Lotus
Sutra says everyone is a potential Buddha, and Nichiren Daishonin made it possible to
embody this way of life. President Ikeda tells us that there is no one without an important
mission to fulfill (see "A Revitalized Humanity," right, for President Ikeda's explanation
of the essential process of human revolution). At this very important time, it is many
common individuals—like you and me—undertaking lives of human revolution,
building a groundswell of peace and thus changing the destiny of humankind.
Enlightenment is not an intellectual process. Only through strenuous practice can we
find it. As humans we must deal with ego; we become confused and clouded when we
encounter difficulty. The way out of this is to awaken to a cause greater than our ego. In
that way, our eternal self can emerge from within our small self or ego. It is the first act
of human revolution, and the results can never be taken away from us.
I'd like to share the experience—just one part—of Ronnie Smith, SGI-USA senior
vice general director. In the 1970s, when Ronnie had been chanting only a short time, he
needed to find full-time employment and found an apprentice-level opening at the sheet
metal workers union.
This racially closed union had just been sued by the federal government to open its
program to people of color. The local shop where he was assigned was not happy that this
had been forced on them. He was not welcomed by the other men, and the shop steward
was determined to see Ronnie fired. He gave him harder tasks, very little instruction and
absolutely no encouragement. Ronnie ate lunch alone, overhearing the grumblings of the
men who purposefully used the "N" word.
Every night, Ronnie chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo just to continue, no matter what,
to learn the trade and to have the spiritual energy to go to work the next day. The steward
became increasingly hostile and abusive. Finally, Ronnie had enough. He talked to a senior
SGI-USA member who listened for a long time and then said: "You know what? You need
to chant for this guy's happiness."
Ronnie thought it was crazy, but he did it. Every night, he came home and chanted for
his boss's happiness. After about a week, something began to happen. When Ronnie
chanted for his boss's happiness, he himself began to feel nothing but pure hate. He would
try to rise above it, feel Buddhist compassion, but more and more the imbedded hate
flowed from him, anger that he had no idea he owned.
As he persevered, keeping his eye on his goals to learn the trade and challenge his anger
and hate, things began to change. He became an expert artisan (he is called to work on the White House), and his example changed the minds and hearts of his fellow workers.
Ronnie says the boss's highhanded behavior never changed except toward Ronnie who,
strangely, became his pride.
And Ronnie's pride came when a successor arrived at the door one morning, the next
African-American apprentice. The boss put his arm around Ronnie and said, "Yeah, takes
me back to when you first began."
In the series "The World of Nichiren Daishonin's Writings," President Ikeda says: "The
Tatsunokuchi Persecution showed the Daishonin's victorious conduct as a human being.
The Daishonin, as an ordinary person, defeated the devilish nature of power and moved
the Buddhist gods from throughout the universe to action" (March Living Buddhism, p.
32). It goes on to say that it was because of his great vow that he could bring forth such
strength.
Of course, the Daishonin's great vow to save humanity by establishing and spreading the
correct teaching is huge. His determined stand at Tatsunokuchi shook his life of all
negativity. But doesn't Ronnie's experience contain the same element?
When he continued chanting for that man's happiness, for something bigger than
survival or reprisal, Ronnie was fulfilling his vow as a Bodhisattva of the Earth. When he
took that higher perspective, even though he felt like a fake as his own anger poured out,
he was creating a deep revolution in his life. He transformed his own devils, his anger, his
racism.
The boss responded to Ronnie's inner struggle, and the men saw a great example. The
shop was forever integrated. It was win–win–win. But the greater winner is Ronnie—he
is a man of true strength who can transform anything. He is free.
A REVITALIZED HUMANITY
In SGI President Ikeda's 2002 peace proposal, "The Humanism of the Middle Way: Dawn
of a Global Civilization" (May 2002 Living Buddhism, p. 19), he describes the essential
process of human revolution:
It is…imperative that we maintain clear focus as we continue the inner spiritual struggle
to awaken the forces of good within. This ceaseless effort to polish our lives empowers us to avoid stagnation, the tendency to view present conditions as fixed and immutable. We
can then exercise the self-mastery required to respond creatively to the unique problems
and possibilities of each moment. It is through sustaining and ingraining this habit of
struggle that the most positive and creative energy becomes established as the fundamental tenor of our lives and the basis for our life-activity. As individuals, it is in this way of life marked by ceaseless striving and growth that we find the true significance of the Buddhist concept of the mutual possession of the Ten Worlds. |
