Hatsumi Soke recently said; “Some people don’t learn, and they die. Some people are unlucky, and they die. There’s nothing we can do about this. Just keep training”.
In the context of the reason why I am writing, those are harsh words. They’re brutal in fact.
One of my sword students, Nich Ermak, fell from a 50 foot cliff yesterday. He is not expected to survive.
And that’s it.
Life and death in a single moment.
Nich was very young, in his early 20’s I believe. He recently went on pilgrimage with myself and our group to Japan to train with our sword teacher in Noda and Soke Hatsumi, the last Ninja. He trained excellently. He is a very talented martial artist. One early morning in Kashiwa Plaza hotel Nich came to my room and stayed to chant Daimoku. We chanted for 15 minutes. Quite a long Daimoku for someone who is chanting for the first time.
I looked forward to more discussions about Buddhism with Nich, but since arriving home he has been very busy with college finals.
Flowery words of consolation and encouragement escape me at the moment. Fact is that I am not unlike a child in the face of these events, questioning and clutching desperately for a little understanding of something that simply and ubiquitously will never be understood, at least not during my own time on this planet.
Losing someone we care for is one of the sufferings of being a human being. Certainly most would agree that the experience is worth the price, but in these painful moments it’s difficult to be reminded of that.
Nich was a special young man. Intelligent, quiet and self-directed in ways that are unusual for someone his age. I wouldn’t say that about everyone I’ve ever known or trained with, rather I’d just say nothing.
People pass from this world everyday and leave planet Earth better for it. Men like Nich depart unexpectedly and leave a wound in the hearts of those who know and love them, a wound that - for some - may never heal.
Nam myoho renge kyo
Have a wonderful journey Nich Ermak.
Rev. Greg Dilley