RecentWords2020

When we engage in discussions or debates, we invariably hold a "position."

For instance, Person A has their stance, and Person B has theirs. This situation is like standing on opposite banks of a wide river. Because we each embrace our own sense of "what is right," we can never truly meet halfway, no matter how hard we try.

This seems obvious when we think about it, yet we often fail to realize it, leading to conflicts between friends, within families, in communities, and among nations. In truth, domestic quarrels and international conflicts stem from the same root cause: "The folly of gripping one's own righteousness and using it as a weapon to strike others."

Where, then, can true correctness be found?

It can only be found when we are illuminated by the "Eye" that reveals our own mutual "biases."

As humans, both Person A and Person B undoubtedly feel a sense of justice in their hearts. However, that very sense of justice is inevitably biased, rooted in self-centered thinking. The working of Truth is that which exposes this bias and awakens us to it.

At first glance, the phrase "Namu Amida Butsu - 南無阿弥陀仏 - " may seem frail or unreliable to solve such problems. However, this is the very voice of Truth calling out to us: "Realize your own biased sense of justice!"

 We all know that human beings breathe to live. We also know that this breathing will one day stop. However, no one knows exactly when that day will come. Although it is an absolute certainty, we usually choose to look away from it. As Rennyo Shonin (蓮如上人, 1415–1499) stated in his Ofumi (御文 - Letters), we have no guarantee that the breath we just exhaled will be followed by an inhale. From the moment we receive life, we live a life destined to eventually "return."

Consider the COVID-19 pandemic, once described as a "global lockdown." This exposed the true nature of us human beings who, until yesterday, believed we were living in an advanced civilization. We were completely unprepared for "that day." Without being mindful of life and death, it is our sad human nature to end up chasing only the temporary pleasures of the present moment.

Fundamentally, people do not die because of illness; from the very beginning, we live in bodies that are destined to die. This is the absolute truth of the Buddha (如来 - Tathagata). Rennyo Shonin further notes, "People simply assume they will continue to live on indefinitely in their present lives. This is beyond shallow; it can only be called foolish."

We must learn from both the importance and the difficulty of "living consciously in the present moment while gazing at the end of life." The teaching that helps us accept the inescapable truth of mortality and awakens us to how we should live right now—that itself is our Honzon (本尊 - our principal object of reverence, meaning "the truly precious thing").

During the COVID-19 pandemic, feeling that time shouldn't be wasted, a muscle-training boom started among my dorm mates at work. As the catchphrase "Muscles never betray you"—popularized by a Japanese public broadcasting program—suggests, working out is tough and demanding, but the joy of "health" awaits you as a reward.

In fact, the mind and spirit require training as well. This training means asking ourselves uncompromisingly: "Why was I born?" "How should I live?" and "What is the meaning of life?" However, in modern times, "daily life" and "spiritual pursuit" seem to be conflated. When people think of life's hardships, they only seem interested in immediate concerns like making money or dealing with interpersonal struggles. Many people run away from the rigor of earnestly facing their inner selves; instead, they consume cheap inspiration or cling to easy, comforting words. Because they fail to question themselves deeply, whenever a problem arises, they shift the blame to others and harshly criticize them.

The other day, reflecting on the pandemic, I wrote: "Anxiety is, by nature, something that never truly disappears." In response, I received comments saying, "That's too harsh," or "I want kind words." While comfort might be fine in everyday life, when we seriously contemplate the realities of human existence, I must say that any ideology that simply pats you on the back and says, "That must have been hard for you," is nothing but pseudo-religion and pseudo-philosophy. Such things only add flab to the spirit, pushing us further away from the true joy of living.

Rev. Jito Fujii once reflected, "My wife as the temple's co-manager (坊守 - Bomori) and I as the chief priest, both of us believed we had been earnestly listening to the Buddha's teachings." However, he confessed that a single word from his wife on her sickbed—"I underestimated it (the reality of death)"—made him realize how incredibly difficult it is to embrace the Buddha's teachings as a truly personal matter. (Source: Shinshu Kaikan "Kotonoha" website)

After bidding farewell to a loved one, we use memorial services as an opportunity to reflect upon ourselves. Though rarely seen today, the Japanese word for a death anniversary (御命日- Gomeinichi) was once written with a different character, becoming Gomeinichi(御明日)—meaning "the day of illuminating life." Furthermore, why is the first anniversary of a death called "the first cycle" (一周忌 - Isshuki) instead of the second memorial year? Perhaps it is because, taking the memory of the deceased as a starting point, we ourselves complete one full "cycle" of the year, prompting us to ask ourselves, "How have I lived?"

We are "living and being active." That is why the Japanese word for daily life is Seikatsu (生活 - literally, "living activity"). Today, however, the world is overflowing with superficial ideas that create the illusion that as long as our "activities" are rich, we are "happy." What the COVID-19 pandemic should have made us realize, and what we must never forget, is the undeniable fact that "I, too, will eventually become ashes." From that realization, shouldn't we deeply consider the solemnity of our own life, which will eventually come to an end, as "my own personal problem"?

And what we must continue to question even more is right now: are we truly "living" this precious life? Or are we merely "moving," manipulated by material goods, busywork, and money? After all, my life is only given to me once.