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.
