My reason for being has become obvious. Since my battle and triumph over advanced cancer some nineteen years ago, there has been a steady flow of people seeking me out to help them overcome their illness. At first, I was hesitant to offer much beyond a compassionate word and encouragement to chant daimoku. In fact, I was originally reluctant to help others at all because it reminded me of how great my suffering had been and I was not out of the woods with my own disease – although in remission, it was capable of rearing it’s hydra head at any moment. There was a sense in me that if I spoke of my experience, I could never move beyond it. I fretted that I would be haunted by the dark side of my karma. Another fear was that if I spoke as if I was cured, fate would make me a liar, and I would be doomed to dance with the beast once more.
I was reminded by the Four Noble Truths that “all life is suffering.” As I looked around, I saw the flow of daily life and the momentary joys of everyday people, knowing that they were all just waiting in line for their own dance with the down side of inevitability. More people came. They wrote letters, somehow got my telephone number, or appeared at my office for advice - there were inquiries from Asia to Australia and all points in between. If it wasn’t their own illness, they sought advice on the precarious situation of a loved one. I could/can never say “no.” Most of the time, I just listened to their plight to give them a platform to unload their grief and frustrastion. There were tales of woe, self-destructive words and deeds, some refused to follow their doctor’s advice, and others seemed to live off the attention of being chronically ill until all their friends and family had been driven away and no one was left to listen to them harp on how sick and miserable they were. Many were at the brink of death with confession on their mind. I always found these people the most receptive to a kind word and an implanted vision of hope and peace.
For me, helping the sick has been a purely altruistic mission. Unlike a doctor, I have never taken money or fees to help the sick - and never will. Although I don’t dispense drugs, I do provide the medicine of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo that heals the body, mind, and spirit. Some people take this medicine and are cured instantly. Others resist, but force themselves to take it and find later that they are much improved. Still, others reject it completely because of preconceived ideas and wander off the well-worn path and find themselves at the mercy of the elements, where they endure even greater suffering and eventually die. At that point, I add them to my prayer list and pray for their repose and fortunate birth. My list has grown very long. Overall, I have helped far more people to extend their life span than I have seen die on my watch. But it never gets any easier. Thanks to the inspiration of Buddha, I do not get weary of this mission. I pray that there is someone like me to be there for my final time - to remind me of the important things I've done and to chant with me at the final moment. But I know that no matter how many people are there for us, we all die alone. Knowing that the Buddha is watching and waiting is the greatest comfort of all.
There are times where I am approached by someone who is so entrenched in their affliction and suffering that they cannot muster up the optimism to even believe that they can recover. In those cases, I attempt to expand their mind to consider the possibility of karma carried over from previous lifetimes that has affected their ability to be well in this life. Invariably, these people are the most difficult to lead back to the path toward wellness because they know more than their doctors, their nurses, therapists, well meaning friends, and spiritual advisors. In fact, they know so much about their disease and its myriad complications that the illness serves as a curse – leaving them hopeless for recovery, fearful of death, and unable to conceive of any transcendence that would cause them to believe that one morning they could possibly wake up and feel perfectly fine. Yet, transcending even the most critical illness is totally possible with daimoku. When your mind becomes a bigger enemy than your illness, few remedies can save you. One remedy is daimoku and the openness that all good things are possible.
As the years have gone by, I have awakened to the reality that I cannot save anyone at all from suffering. Even with the excellent medicine of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, one must allow it to work its wonder. It is the Buddha's medicine and compassionate words that make the end of suffering possible, not my words or actions. A guide does not create the path, he merely helps others traverse it safely. This is something that I never forget.
Belief, in my opinion, and life experience is helpful, but certainly not necessary. A natural law doesn’t require belief for it to function. Gravity still exists even if we deny that it is real. I believe that faith or belief is acquired by the experience of actual proof. The realization that all life is suffering has helped me continue my work of writing books on healing and teaching and encouraging the sick. As we should know, although all life is suffering, and that suffering is caused by selfish craving, suffering can be overcome – or transcended, and that is accomplished by following the eight-fold path. This eight fold path includes right view, right resolve, right speech, right conduct, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.
From my standpoint, knowing this rightful map makes me an ideal guide to lead others to the final destination. In the process of learning the properties, dangers, and mysteries of the path was to understand the twelve-linked chain of causation and how it actually brought us to this realm to even have this conversation. I discovered that it wasn’t necessary to make someone understand the cause of his or her problem or the matrix of reasons as to why they now suffer because of it. In my mind, it is the same as a pilot that knows the aircraft, is an expert in navigation, and is skillful in flying through all types of weather. His skill lands the aircraft and passengers safely. It is not necessary for the passengers to know how it all works for them to get from point “a” to point “b.” The original cause of someone's illness is unknowable at best. On the surface, the solution is more readily understandable. It is better to concentrate on the solution than the unknowable cause(s).
Right now I am helping a brilliant journalist and author in her long and seemingly futile battle with Lyme disease. No one has been able to help her yet. Like many of us, she may be her own worst enemy, wandering off the path to the phantom city, and yet her recovery – when achieved, will reach millions of people around the world and bring them more encouragement and hope than her pilot and guide. I am convinced that she will win and find perfect health. Why? Because the Lotus Sutra makes recovery possible when you take it to heart, even though you might be filled with doubt, fear, and regret. We common mortals are like that, and the Buddha knew our frailty as well - thus, he gave us the great mantra so we could transform our illness or limitations. How wonderful is daimoku and the compassionate words of the Buddha? After this wonderful person, there will be another, and another. Time has made me realize that my own survival is tied into my mission of guiding others to wellness. Each time I pray for someone ill, for a brief moment, like an empath, I experience their symptoms, and my life assimilates this experience. I thank all those who have come to me for help. Through you, I have begun to understand life and my own mission. Thank you all for letting me be your guide.