When describing the principle of changing poison into medicine, Nichiren wrote: "What is the poison? It is the three paths of earthly desires, karma, and suffering that are our lot. What is the medicine? It is the Dharma body [truth], wisdom and emancipation [freedom]."
Eventually, I came to understand these "three paths" not as abstract Buddhist concepts but as a recurring cycle. Too often, fear would drive my actions, creating more suffering—and then the cycle would begin again.
Fortunately, the Dharma body means I can awaken to the truth that my life has value, even when I can't see it; that at my core, I'm a Buddha. A Buddha's wisdom means learning to pause and ask, "How can I create value from this experience?" Freedom gradually emerges as I'm no longer controlled by old childhood fears. The circumstances may not change completely, but I certainly do.
I experienced this transformation dramatically during our daughter and her family's annual summer visits from Paris and then Boston. For 15 years, I became extremely anxious months before the four of them arrived, wanting everything to be perfect. Every meal, every outing and every conversation felt like a litmus test I had to pass. I put enormous pressure on myself to be the loving, emotionally present spouse, father and grandfather that I never experienced growing up. Sadly, my wife and our daughters had no idea how much I was hurting inside. I had become an expert at masking my true feelings.
As the summer of 2024 approached, I entered a very dark period. I even attempted to end my life.
Throughout this time, I continued chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, studying Nichiren Buddhism, participating in SGI activities and working with a therapist. But as the deeper roots of my suffering gradually became clear, it also became obvious to me and my doctor that I needed a more intensive therapeutic approach. That's when I began working with a psychologist who specializes in Dialectical Behavior Therapy (Ref: my DBT music video).
For me, these weren't competing paths. Rather, they complemented each other. My Buddhist practice gave me the courage, hope and determination to keep moving forward. DBT helped me understand deeply rooted patterns from a traumatic childhood and gave me practical skills to transform them.
This year, when my daughter's family came to visit, something remarkable happened. For the first time, I wasn't trying to become the "perfect" someone. I wasn't rehearsing conversations or worrying whether everyone was happy. Instead, we laughed, ate and hiked together. I also gave myself permission to pass on several of the activities. I discovered that being present was more than enough. And all my family really desired.
I now realize that the poison was never my family's visits. It was the unreasonable expectations I had carried inside. Changing poison into medicine meant that the very situation that once caused me so much suffering could become a source of connection and joy.
At 76, I've learned it's never too late to change. Sometimes the deepest layers of our karma aren't revealed until much later in life.
Ikeda Sensei expresses this beautifully:
"Our Buddhist faith and practice give us the power to win out over despair and resignation, and to keep moving ever forward. Through our efforts to press on, we can polish ourselves and expand our state of life." [The New Human Revolution, Vol. 30, "Bells of Dawn" chapter]
Now these words feel completely real to me. The anxiety that once controlled me has become gratitude. Fear has given way to confidence. My relationships with my family have become more honest, warmer and filled with compassion.
At the end of their visit, my daughter told me how grateful she was that her son and daughter had the opportunity to watch their grandfather change in such a fundamental way. She said she believed it was a lesson they would carry with them throughout their lives whenever they faced struggles.
Her words were music to my ears. In that moment, I realized I truly had changed poison into medicine.
