Contribution #2 - Julia Alvarez

"The point is not to pay back kindness but to pass it on."– Julia Alvarez

Well, Penny, since you're dealing with other things in your life right now, I figured I'd help you keep up this wonderful, amazing and inspirational blog. (I get quotes delivered right to my email inbox every day, so I'm happy to pinch hit for you now!)

There were other quotes I could have chosen, but this quote had a bit of synchronicity to its relevance -- I was talking to my friend's husband the other day about this concept of passing on kindness. He and I both come from incredibly dysfunctional families and we have experience unkindness from relatives in the past. What's so wonderful about the present though, is that my friend, her husband and her son have all embraced me as family, as I have done with them.

Anyway, Joe and I were agreeing on this point of passing on kindness -- it's no skin off your nose when you do, and it'll probably make you feel better when it's done. How come so many people don't understand that concept? Is it a lack of compassion for others? Is it that we are all so focused on what we can get out of life, rather than what we can give? Or is it just that not enough people have seen the movie "Pay It Forward"?

Well, whatever it is, it doesn't really matter to me. I'm going to pass on kindness, as altruistically as I am capable of, whenever the opportunity arises, regardless of what others are doing around me. Unfortunately Joe sometimes gets upset over the troubles of the world, but I know the sun is still shining above the clouds on a rainy day (I've been on flights that actually prove this phenomenon). Maybe Joe's faith in the limitless potential of the universe is obscured by the news or maybe his philosophy on life is a bit too bleak for my tastes... that doesn't matter either since I don't compare myself to others anymore. I can only look at who I am today, who I was yesterday, and who I want to become tomorrow.

I have had an enormous amount of kindness paid to me over the years... from many, many people (including my very dear friend Lilyane, who has been there with a helping hand at some very crucial moments in my life). How do I repay my debt of gratitude to all those people? It's simple -- become capable, through the help of those friends, to share kindness to others around me who are in need of kindness. And since "kindness" may take on many forms, I allow myself to be compassionate enough to act according to the uniqueness of each individual.

Penny, this is but one way for me to repay my debt of gratitude, and I thank you for the opportunity to pass on this kindness to your readers!

Contribution #1 - Daisaku Ikeda

Why doesn't constant trampling defeat the dandelion? The key to its
strength is its long and sturdy root, which extends deep into the earth. The
same principle applies to people. The true victors in life are those whose who,
enduring repeated challenges and setbacks, have sent the roots of their being to
such a depth that nothing can shake them.
- Daisaku Ikeda (Buddhist philosopher, educator and prolific writer & poet; President of the Soka Gakkai International (SGI) lay Buddhist movement)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PENNY!!! I hope you enjoyed and celebrated with vim & verve! And thank for giving me the opportunity to write in your blog.

One of my favorite movies is Federico Fellini's "Amacord." It's basically a nostalgic "year-in-the-life" tale of his childhood and, though it's set in World War II during the reign of Mussolini and his facist government, it is a delightful & funny film. There is one scene, denoting the coming of spring, that is most memorable for me. It is after winter, when the family is walking outside together and all of a sudden dandelion seeds (that fluff that gets over everything) blow in. There are so many of them that it looks like it's snowing. But because it signifies the advent of spring, the boy starts chasing the dandelion seeds with joy and playfulness.

I had never seen that phenomenon until I moved to the Berkshires. It's been "raining" dandelion seeds for at least a month now... although not as much as in Fellini's film, but I can't tell you how much joy there is in my heart seeing this magical sign of spring. Winter is far from being my favorite season (that's why I lived in Los Angeles for as long as I could), but somehow here in the Berkshires, at this time in my life, it is more endurable because I know it will "never fail to turn into spring" (Nichiren Daishonin, 13th c. Buddhist monk). Since living in the Berkshires, experiencing the inevitable change of season has been enchanting.

As the seasons change, I am reminded of the impermanence of the universe. I am understanding more that, with each year I grow older, death is also inevitable. My stepmother just passed away on June 10th and Shin Yatomi, a friend & fellow Soka Gakkai member passed away on May 31st. Although both had illnesses which would not improve, both deaths were unexpected for me. Although my stepmother was 72 years old, I had thought she would live until 80, like so many of her relatives. Shin was only 45 years old with inoperable lung cancer, but I thought, perhaps, he had at least a year since he told of us his illness, not a matter of months. I will miss them both and I will honor both by continuing to live, creating value with courage, compassion & wisdom as they did.

I am truly fortunate that my spiritual practice is the Buddhism of Nichiren Daishonin. It's the fuel that keeps me going, and the glue that helps me when things fall apart. It is also a philosophy that allows me to understand life, death, cause & effect, and the mysterious wonders of the universe. It has allowed me to mourn for my stepmother and friend without needless suffering and to appreciate the impact on my life even more. Chanting nam-myoho-renge-kyo for them now, after their deaths, is the action I can take to continually praise their lives and the meditation I can do to find ways of repaying my debt of gratitude to them. For they, in their own unique way, supported the roots of my being to grow and reach the depths that I can now endure.