Causes and Conditions behind Our Roles in Life


by Nikkyo Niwano



This essay is part of a continuing series of translations from
a volume of inspirational writings by the late founder of
Rissho Kosei-kai.
Dharma World will continue to publish
these essays because of their lasting value as
guidance for the practice of one's daily faith.


On being asked what is meant by "to lead an ideal life," I would respond in two ways. On a personal level it is to thoroughly fulfill our individual lot as given to us by the heavens, and from the aspect of human relations it is to come together in harmony, helping each other out as we strive toward a peaceful world for the sake of all. Of course, we all have our own particular ways of living, our own manners and customs, depending on our nationality or ethnic group, but these are mere variations on the same principle, expressed through different languages and behaviors. In other words, it is only because of the different combinations of causes and conditions that the various outcomes also look different.

It goes without saying that as human beings we must all cherish our common nature, but at the same time it is crucial that we respect our varying situations as readily observable phenomena. We each have individual circumstances and roles in life, and these are differences we have to honor. Between nations and ethnic groups too, we must value our respective sovereignties, honor our differing languages, and recognize one another in all of our diverse manners and customs.

According to the Buddha, "All things on Earth are equal," but it is important to be careful in our understanding of this, so that we do not take it to mean that we all have to look and behave the same just because we are equal in essence. This is a twisted view of equality that some would call a way of thinking that causes discord in the world.

All things are said to comprise an all-encompassing emptiness, but their manifestations in this world come in various shapes and sizes, whether as inanimate objects, animals, or human beings. If all of these countless forms were each to exercise the full value of their existence and completely fulfill their responsibilities, we would have a harmonious world of ineffable proportions. Such a state of true harmony is what we call nirvana, that is, absolute peace.

I rarely used to squabble as a boy, and even as a working man I keep my distance from anything that might be called a dispute. Instead of concerning myself with winning or losing, and thus being tossed between joy and despair, I have preferred to avoid conflict in the first place. In my youth I would sometimes question whether my passive disposition was not in fact a form of cowardice, but as I grew older and encountered Buddhism, I made the decision to promote peace as my lifelong task. I increasingly began to feel that this was the way things should be.

One morning [June 1972], I chanced to hear a radio talk by Mikisaburo Mori, a professor in the Chinese philosophy department at Osaka University, about "the heart of water." This finally let me know that I had not been wrong in my convictions. Let me describe briefly just one part of his discussion. Water is a selfless substance possessing no fixed form. It becomes square in a square-shaped container and round in a round container. Despite its flexibility, it possesses the considerable inherent power to overwhelm even the toughest of substances, permeate all things, and bring great benefit to everything in the world. This idea of the Taoist master Laotzu (604?-531? BCE), he concluded, represents the greatest good, and it is this "heart of water" that will be the salvation of humankind.

Indeed, in today's world everything seems to involve being tough and strong. We assert our individuality, insist incessantly on our rights, and resort to force as soon as we feel threatened. We turn everything into competition and chase after the goal of victory. Industry involves competition, business involves competition, military forces involve competition. Even road traffic and mass transportation are competitions in speed.

Because this attitude prevails, war will continue to infect our planet, natural conditions will continue to deteriorate, and pollution will inexorably worsen day by day. There is now reason to have growing concern that if things continue to worsen at this rate, there will not be a world for our grandchildren to live in. Sure enough, the United Nations Conference on the Human Environment held in Stockholm in that same year of 1972 had as a slogan the woeful reminder: Only One Earth.

In Buddhism, the idea of nonself is one of its core teachings. Everything that exists is enabled to live by supporting, and being supported by, other existences in a complex network of relationships. Thus when someone insists on having his or her own way in relations with others, it causes a disruption in the social equilibrium and sows the seeds of conflict that are at the base of all human calamities.

What practical steps can we take to prevent this from happening? In passive terms we can avoid conflict by being gentle and forbearing, and in active terms we should teach people to help others with an attitude of generous compassion. Such actions to relieve human distress are the very foundation of a peaceful society.

We must rediscover these Buddhist ideas, together with those of Laotzu that I mentioned above, making them our own once again so that we can disseminate the teachings to people all around the world. I am convinced that this is the best and most fundamental way of protecting our precious planet and saving humanity from extinction.


This article was originally published in the January-March 2009 issue of Dharma World.