Mistaking Arrogance for Confidence Part One

Nichiren Daishonin was often condemned by his contemporaries as “an extremely arrogant priest”.

Nichiren Daishonin was often condemned by his contemporaries as “an extremely arrogant priest” for his confidence as a votary of the Lotus Sutra to “fulfill the Buddha’s predictions and reveal the truth of his words” (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, pp. 400–01). Just as the Daishonin’s confidence was misconstrued as arrogance, we may be inclined to mistake our arrogance for confidence and others’ confidence for arrogance. One of the five delusive inclinations, arrogance is considered in the Buddhist tradition both as a hindrance to enlightenment and as a cause for suffering. For this reason, mistaking arrogance for confidence is likely to set off the downward spiral of delusion and suffering. The fine line between arrogance and confidence, therefore, must be redrawn more clearly to distinguish happiness from delusion.

Arrogance is to judge one’s self-worth by comparison with others

The first of the seven types of arrogance, which are enumerated in some Buddhist scriptures, points to the essential quality of arrogance—“to think that one is superior to those inferior to oneself and that one is equal to one’s equals” (The Soka Gakkai Dictionary of Buddhism, p. 579). Why is this arrogance? Isn’t it just telling it like it is? What is implied here is that arrogance is essentially our inclination to judge our self-worth by comparing ourselves with others.

Certain comparisons between oneself and others may be objectively true—such as income, IQ or physical appearance. But if we constantly judge our self-worth through comparison with others in whatever standards chosen, we are becoming arrogant. Of course, this is not to deny some merits that comparison and competition bring to our lives—such as motivation for improvement and an opportunity for self-reflection.

Moreover, the correct assessment of our circumstances through comparison is essential to improving our lives. In fact, those living in isolation or unwilling to learn from others are arrogant. Comparison with others becomes a cause for our concern when it becomes a sole measure for judging our existence. Put simply, if we start thinking of our lives as happy or unhappy, meaningful or meaningless, solely based on comparison with others, we may as well consider ourselves as arrogant.

Arrogant people feel good about themselves only through affirming their superiority to others. Our sense of superiority is always relative to whom we are compared with and never constant because of our own changing circumstances. False confidence based on superiority, therefore, easily turns into a feeling of inferiority and self-disparagement, like a millionaire feeling poor among billionaires, a Ph.D. feeling foolish among Nobel laureates or a healthy person feeling overweight among supermodels. This is why false humility or self-disparagement is considered as arrogance in Buddhism. (See the nine types of arrogance in The Soka Gakkai Dictionary of Buddhism, p. 457.) Put another way, arrogance and self-disparagement are two sides of the same coin; we cannot have one without the potential for the other.

Genuinely confident people, on the other hand, feel great about themselves without comparing themselves with others. Such people are aware of some intrinsic personal strength or merit worthy of praise and respect. Confident people can put into perspective their ups and downs of life in this society driven by comparison and competition. Their missed promotion or lost love does not spell out their failure as a human being. Their financial success or academic achievement does not make them superior to their peers. So long as they continue to be aware of their innate positive quality and strive to cultivate it, people will remain confident regardless of their external circumstances. And Buddhism teaches that the most reliable source of confidence is our innate Buddha nature.

Arrogance is egotism; confidence is altruism

What clearly distinguishes the arrogant from the confident is whether or not they desire and act for others’ happiness greater than their own. Arrogant people are keenly aware that their self-esteem depends upon their superiority to others. So they often take delight in pitying the less fortunate since they can reaffirm their superior status by doing so.

The “kindness” of the arrogant, however, extends only so far as it supports their self-importance; it continues as long as the less fortunate remain less fortunate. Precisely for this reason, the arrogant cannot will and act for the supreme happiness of others because they fear it would only diminish their own happiness. This explains why it is often easier to feel ambiguous pity for our underpaid coworkers than to share their joy over their sudden promotion. One’s loss must be another’s gain—this is the basic assumption of life held by the arrogant who cannot stop comparing their fortune with that of others.

Confidence, on the other hand, makes genuine altruism possible. Since confident people’s self-worth does not depend upon others, they are free to care for others and fight for their happiness with the hope that it exceeds even their own. In fact, the confident see their contribution to others’ happiness as proof of their expanding humanity and as a source of great joy.

Confidence is to appreciate oneself even in the worst possible state.
In the late winter of 1272, Nichiren Daishonin wrote with his numbing hand: “I, Nichiren, am the richest man in all of present-day Japan. I have dedicated my life to the Lotus Sutra, and my name will be handed down in ages to come” (WND, 268). A reformer who had challenged the corrupt religious authority of his day, the Daishonin was exiled, after the failed execution, to a remote northern island of Japan, expected to die naturally or to be murdered. Destitute, he was living in a hut in a field scattered with abandoned corpses, and everything pointed to his approaching death into oblivion.

These words, however, clearly express the Daishonin’s confidence that he gave his life to the spread of the essential teaching of Buddhism, that is, the universality of Buddhahood. His life meant something for him, although it seemed to have come to nothing. When he lost everything, he gained one thing that mattered most—indomitable confidence that all people, no matter how miserable they may appear, have the supreme potential of Buddhahood.

Through his own example, Nichiren Daishonin demonstrated that confidence need not depend on possession or circumstances. Genuine confidence is to love and praise ourselves even in the worst possible state, not for how we appear to others, but for what we are in the innermost of life.

(Originally published in the World Tribune, March 7, 2003)

Mistaking Arrogance for Confidence Part Two

Arrogance is insecurity; confidence is peace of mind

 

The difference between arrogance and confidence also shows in our emotional state. Arrogance makes us insecure whereas confidence gives us peace of mind. The more arrogant we become, the more keenly we feel the dependence of our happiness upon the misfortune and weakness of others. This ironic dependence makes the seeming confidence of the arrogant increasingly insecure. The more they bolster this false self-confidence on the outside, the less secure they become inside; so the ‘happiness’ of the arrogant is self-consuming.

Arrogance is needy; confidence is free

As mentioned earlier, confident people are deeply aware that they derive their confidence from strengthening their innate qualities and need not depend on others. So the more confident people are, the more peaceful they will be with both themselves and others. Even in disagreement or when pointing out the errors of others, confident people can remain calm and open-minded. Since they need not defend their self-worth by ‘winning’ in the argument, confident people can stay focused on the merits of different views and opinions without becoming hurtful toward others.

Nichiren Daishonin, for example, wrote from exile, “Whatever obstacles I might encounter, so long as persons of wisdom do not prove my teachings to be false, I will never yield!” (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 280). His vow to be steadfast in his belief comes with the condition—“so long as persons of wisdom do not prove my teachings to be false.” This was an expression of the unruffled openness of the confident, not of the blind obstinacy of the arrogant.

Think about how people behave at work. Unlike an arrogant manager who takes any suggestion as a personal criticism and everyone in the office as a potential threat, a confident manager takes even personal criticism as an opportunity for self-reflection and further improvement. The inner state of an arrogant person is constantly agitated, waiting for any opportunity to assert a sense of superiority. But the inner state of a confident person absorbs even an untoward event like a pebble tossed into a bathtub, as opposed to a wineglass.

As it is clear now, arrogance is not “too much” confidence. The essential difference between arrogance and confidence is not one of quantity or degree, but of quality and origin. Arrogance is needy and dependent on others, derived from comparison with the external. Confidence is free and independent of others, found and cultivated in the self.

‘Absolute superiority’ is a dangerous illusion

Mistaking arrogance for confidence distorts our view of humanity—the way we relate to others and ourselves. Such misconception spells out only tragic suffering for individuals and society. Long before his rise to power, Adolf Hitler wrote: “Self-confidence must be inculcated in the young national comrade from childhood on. His whole education and training must be so ordered as to give him the conviction that he is absolutely superior to others” (Mein Kampf, trans. Ralph Manheim, p. 411).

The epitome of arrogance, Hitler mistook the illusion of “absolute superiority” as supreme confidence. He debased education, turning it from a vehicle of equality and happiness into a cogwheel in the evil machinery of discrimination and destruction. Education must teach confidence, not arrogance. Likewise, Buddhist learning is to strengthen our faith in the inherent Buddha nature of others and ourselves, not to promote elitism among believers.

Nichiren Daishonin was well aware of the danger of judging one’s self-worth through comparison with others. The Daishonin, therefore, admonished his disciples: “When you look at those of superior capacity, do not disparage yourself. The Buddha’s true intention was that no one, even those of inferior capacity, be denied enlightenment. Conversely, when you compare yourself with persons of inferior capacity, do not be arrogant and overproud. Even persons of superior capacity may be excluded from enlightenment if they do not devote themselves wholeheartedly” (WND, 62).

Here the Daishonin explains that one’s potential for enlightenment is in no way diminished by one’s capacity to understand Buddhism since all people are equally endowed with supreme Buddhahood. What is most important for our happiness is to believe in this intrinsic potential shared by all people. Our tendency to compare our capacity with that of others will only lead us astray from genuine happiness.

Nichiren Daishonin, therefore, urges us to win over our arrogance in order to enjoy authentic happiness: “Now, if you wish to attain Buddhahood, you have only to lower the banner of your arrogance, cast aside the staff of your anger, and devote yourself exclusively to the one vehicle of the Lotus Sutra” (WND, 58–59). Here the Daishonin indicates the close relationship between arrogance and anger. T’ien-t’ai, a 6th-century Chinese Buddhist scholar, described those in the state of anger as “always desiring to be superior to others” (Gosho Zenshu, p. 430). Anger is akin to arrogance; it may be described as frustrated arrogance.

As the Daishonin suggests here, we can overcome our deep-seated arrogance and anger through our devotion to the “one vehicle of the Lotus Sutra”—that is, the teaching of the universality of Buddhahood and its essential practice as chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. As we deepen our confidence in our own Buddhahood and this selfsame potential of others, the need to compare ourselves with others will diminish, and we will be free to appreciate and enjoy lives of our own making.

(Originally published in the World Tribune, March 14, 2003)

The Way We See Ourselves

Enlightenment or human revolution is to change the way we see ourselves. 

by ~Basistka

An important aspect of what we call enlightenment or human revolution is to change the way we see ourselves to see the unconditional value of life within us, which neither requires comparison with others nor depends upon our transient appearance. It is a simple idea yet requires a difficult change of perspective since we have been trained for most of our lives to judge ourselves by how well we fulfill our socially prescribed roles in comparison with others. Those roles are often related to status or gender but rarely to our individual uniqueness.

As early as our social life begins, we start learning to judge ourselves in terms of others: I'm not as smart as other kids or I'm not as slim as other girls. Later in life, we still judge our worth in the same way: I'm a loser because I don't make as much money as most successful men do or I'm miserable because I'm not married as all happy women should be. With subtle yet repeated reinforcement and censure from society and media, we learn to live our lives through the eyes of others, to think of our happiness in terms of the ideas borrowed from or imposed upon us by others. In America, people are free to express their thoughts, but not many seem to have thoughts or even feelings of their own.

Nichiren Daishonin explains our innate Buddhahood as an absolute value of goodness, often describing it with expressions such as unmade (Jpn musa), originally endowed (Jpn hon'nu) or eternally dwelling (Jpn joju). Buddhahood, in other words, is good in and of itself, not because of exter- nal conditions or circumstances. To awaken to this treasure within us is happiness while our ignorance of it spells suffering. As the Daishonin states, When deluded, one is called an ordinary being, but when enlightened, one is called a Buddha (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 4).

The sad irony of modern men and women who have lost touch with their own lives is echoed in the Daishonin's following words: If you seek enlightenment outside yourself, then your performing...even ten thousand good deeds will be in vain. It is like the case of a poor man who spends night and day counting his neighbor's wealth but gains not even half a coin (WND, 3). All the hard work we do for our success and happiness would be wasted if those ideas were simply imposed on us from the outside and naively accepted without critical thinking and reflection.

Deriving self-worth by comparing ourselves with others is one of our most destructive habits. It may be even described as a form of self-inflicted violence since it weakens us by de-centering our existence in the sense that it shifts the center of power to decide the meaning of our lives to the outside. We let others decide what our happiness is, instead of deciding for ourselves. With the power of self-determination lost to external authority, we are no longer free nor independent. Since we live in a competitive society where this sort of comparison is encouraged and often unavoidable, it is a difficult habit to break, but to do so is crucial to our genuine happiness and freedom.

It is ironic that the original meaning of the word compete derives from the Latin com- together and petere seek or strive. Competition did not originally connote comparison; it meant strive together after shared goals. Just as the Daishonin characterizes the state of Anger with contention and strife (WND, 100), competition in society often gives rise to anger, overt or suppressed.

To judge self-worth by comparing oneself with others is essentially an authoritarian way of life in which one seeks comfort and security in the approval of an external power. To unlearn such an authoritarian orientation and build a society in which people may live true to their unique identities is certainly an aspiration of our multifaceted Soka Spirit movement, which aims for the liberation of individuals from all forms of authoritarianism, both within and without.

One way to overcome our tendency to compare ourselves with others is through learning how to praise ourselves for our unique, intrinsic value. A common concern about self-praise is that it may cause arrogance, probably due to our Judeo-Christian tradition in which self-humiliation is often regarded as a necessary virtue to praise God, while self-praise is deemed as a sign of pride, which is one of the seven deadly sins. It should be noted, however, that arrogance is a defensive posture caused by a tendency to assume a sense of superiority or inferiority by comparing oneself with others. 

Therefore, so long as we praise ourselves solely for who we are and for our innate Buddhahood, we will never become arrogant, though we may at times seem arrogant to arrogant people. Indeed, the greatest way to praise ourselves is prayer that sincerely affirms our supreme potential as the Daishonin states, When you chant myoho and recite renge, you must summon up deep faith that Myoho-renge-kyo is your life itself (WND, 3). As we praise ourselves in this way, we will grow confident yet humble because we start to recognize the same quality of Buddhahood in others as well. Appreciation for oneself leads to appreciation for others, which further strengthens self-esteem. The way we see ourselves is not only the way we live our lives, but also the way we relate to others.

(Originally published in the World Tribune, Nov. 9, 2001)

Depression and Buddhism Part 2

October is National Depression Awareness Month



Video Created by Loflo 


STRUGGLES AND TRIUMPHS IN CHALLENGING DEPRESSION
By Lee Wolfson
World Tribune 02/09/01 n.3332 p.8 WT010209p08

If we recognize that depression is a serious and debilitating illness, then it is only natural
to ask what causes this kind of depression? Common sense tells us that depression is
most often brought on by life events; i.e., death of a loved one, loss of a job, divorce,
etc. Life has a way of providing us with an unending supply of difficulties. It is only
natural to think of depression as a reaction to stressful life events, and in many cases,
this is true. If this were the entire story, then one might assume that depression only
afflicts people with “weak character,” or a “low life-condition.” However, there have
been many people of outstanding character and courage who struggled with depression,
such as Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill.

So what is the rest of the story? We know that there are numerous risk factors for
predicting who might be more susceptible to depression. Depression can run in families.
Evidence from studies of twins supports the existence of a genetic component. Across six
studies, the average concordance rate in identical twins (40 percent) for unipolar
depression is more than twice the concordance rate in fraternal twins (17 percent). The
rate of depression in women (12 percent) is twice that of men (7 percent). There are
numerous theories about this gender difference, but there is no consensus in the scientific
community about the underlying cause.

Early life experiences also make people more vulnerable to depression. If one of your
parents died when you were a child, or if you are the victim of childhood abuse you have
a higher vulnerability to depression. Chronic medical conditions as well as life-threatening
medical events like stroke and heart attack can also lead to depression.

Medical research has shown that depression may be related to a chemical imbalance of
serotonin, one of the substances called neurotransmitters that transport signals between
nerve cells in the brain. This has led to the introduction of Prozac, Zoloft, Paxil and
Celexa. These serotonin specific uptake inhibitors have proved effective in treating
depression with minimal side effects but have not come without controversy. Some people worry that the widespread marketing and availability of these medications may be
anesthetizing large segments of our society to the healthy travails of life. This may or may
not be the case, but for those like Jen who have suffered with the torment of a major
depression, these new medications have been a blessing.

Another helpful way of understanding depression is to view it as a spectrum disorder.
In other words, the milder manifestations of depression that we all experience have some
of the same root causes as the more severe forms of clinical depression. Martin Seligman,
Ph.D., in his book What You Can Change and What You Can’t presents a compelling
argument for viewing depression this way: “Mild depression is usually caused by
pessimistic habits of thinking. The pessimist sees the causes of failure and rejection as
permanent (It’s going to last forever), pervasive (It’s going to ruin my everything), and
personal (It’s my fault). These habitual beliefs are just that, mere beliefs. They are often
false, and they are often inaccurate catastrophizing” (p. 115).

Dr. Seligman goes on to argue that optimistic thinking may be a powerful antidote to
pessimism and depression. Contained within the worldview of Nichiren Daishonin’s
Buddhism is a profound capacity to look at the totality of life with all of its travails and
suffering and still find hope and fundamental goodness at the core. In October 1992, I
wrote an essay for the Seikyo Times (now Living Buddhism) in which I demonstrated the
inherent psychological strength of the Daishonin’s Buddhism as reflected in his views of
the self, the world and the future. The purposes of this article do not permit me to
reintroduce the evidence for this. Let me just say that in all three areas, we find robust
examples of the Daishonin encouraging and exhorting his disciples to embrace Buddhism
with optimism and hope, despite the dire social, economic and personal circumstances of
13th-century Japan.

It had been several years since Jen last saw a psychiatrist, and she was not looking forward to seeing one again. The last time was before she began her Buddhist practice, and it had never been a satisfying experience. He prescribed a variety of antidepressant medications,which were only moderately successful, but he never seemed to have time to talk. She eventually stopped the medication and stopped seeing the psychiatrist.
Several months later, an old friend introduced Jen to Buddhism. Jen was drawn to her
friend’s explanation of Buddhist theories and felt that she was hearing a wonderful
explication of her own view of life. However, she was skeptical that chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo would somehow change her life. Nevertheless, she sat down with her friend a few days later and tried chanting.

In the short period of 15 minutes, she sensed something shifting in her life, and when
they finished, she felt more relaxed and open than she had in years. Her friend connected
her with the local SGI-USA organization and she began attending meetings. All the
smiling people she encountered initially put her off, that is, until she listened to their
experiences. She came to realize that their smiles were born of great struggles to overcomemany of the same problems she was facing.

She bought a copy of For Today and Tomorrow by SGI President Ikeda, and the words
practically leapt off the page at her. Reading his guidance was like finding an oasis in the
desert. In spite of the many years of having no hope for the future, she found herself
becoming more optimistic and cheerful. Each Nam-myoho-renge-kyo she chanted felt like
a powerful challenge to her deeply held feelings of worthlessness. And her interactions
with other Buddhists reinforced her determination to take responsibility cheerfully for her
own life. The dark curtain of depression had finally begun to lift.

Jen sailed along majestically in her life, thinking that since she had become a Buddhist,
she was impervious to problems. But when her husband became ill, she felt like the world
had come to a crashing halt. She could not understand how this could happen to someone
who practiced sincerely. Rather than resolve her doubts, however, she gradually
succumbed to the darkness of her depression once again.  
Jen’s husband continued to gently, but firmly encourage her in any way that he could.
Mostly, he just chanted with her every chance that he had.
Several weeks went by before she got the courage to call a psychiatrist. She hoped her
Buddhist practice would provide a foundation for a more rapid and full recovery, but she
felt anxious and a little embarrassed when she walked into her new psychiatrist’s office for the first time. Before she knew it, she was crying. The story of her husband’s illness
poured out of her.

After she finished telling her story, her psychiatrist carefully reviewed her symptoms
and their duration. It came as no surprise to her when he told her she was in another
episode of depression, but it was strangely comforting to give this darkness that had
become her constant companion a name. He then explained to her that in the years since
she was last treated for depression, there was important new research on the treatment
of depression. He told her that combining medication with weekly psychotherapy would give her the best chance at a quick and robust recovery.

Jen left the office with a prescription for one of the new antidepressants, and a referral
to see a therapist. When she arrived home, there was a message on her answering machine from her district leader reminding her about the district discussion meeting. She had not taken any calls from her leaders in faith and had not been to a district meeting in months. She began taking her new medication that night. She experienced no immediate
response to the medication, but she realized it might take weeks for the medication to
begin working.

A few days later she went to her first appointment with her therapist, who specialized
in treating depression. Over the next few weeks, Jen explored her interpersonal
relationships with her therapist. He proposed that they focus on her feelings about her
husband’s poor health. He suggested to her that in addition to her genetic predisposition
to depression, this current episode might be about her grieving over the life she would
never have with her husband due to his poor health. His attempts at helping her to find her strengths in the midst of a very difficult situation felt very compatible with her beliefs as a Buddhist.

She also told him about her Buddhist practice and her involvement with the local
community of SGI-USA members. He was keenly interested in her perceptions of how the
practice of chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo was helpful to her and about how she got
along with her friends in the organization. Jen appreciated his open-mindedness and was
surprised when he actually encouraged her to be consistent in her practice. He told her that maintaining consistent daily social rhythms would be helpful to her recovery. Even thought he was referring to sleep, diet, exercise, etc., she immediately associated this with a consistent daily Buddhist practice.

When it came time for her next district meeting, Jen decided she was well enough to
attend. Much to her delight, they warmly welcomed her back to the meeting. It was as if
she had never left. The discussion that night was about turning poison into medicine.
Before she knew it, she was sharing her experience of struggling with depression. Jen told
the group that in spite of their encouragement, she still could not see how she could turn
her depression from poison into medicine.
One of the members looked at her very intensely and said softly, “Perhaps your
willingness to share and encourage us through your experience is part of the process of
transforming the poison of your depression into medicine?”

Jen’s favorite part of the meeting was always the lively discussions that ensued “on the
way out the door.” She had a lot of catching up to do. The last person she spoke to was her district leader, Sarah. She apologized for her long absence. She told Sarah that as a
Buddhist, she knows she isn’t supposed to feel guilty, but these feelings of guilt were what kept her from returning to the meetings. She felt like a failure as a Buddhist because she saw her depression as an inability to manifest “actual proof.”

Jen was surprised when Sarah apologized to her. Sarah told her that she felt like she had
let Jen down because she had not realized how much Jen was suffering. “When you
stopped coming to meetings and wouldn’t return my phone calls, I was at a loss,” Sarah
said. “I should have tried harder to reach you. Now that you’re back, I don’t want you to
disappear again. Let’s keep chanting together to overcome your illness.” They hugged and
made plans for Sarah to come over.

A few days later, Sarah came over to chant with Jen. They decided to chant for an hour.
Jen wondered if she had the stamina to sit for that long, but she was determined to do her best. Over the course of the hour, she went from tears of grief to a deep sense of
appreciation. In those precious moments of complete concentration, with her heart fully
open and her voice deep and sonorous, the chattering of her mind quieted and true wisdom appeared. She understood, more with her heart than with her mind, that by embracing this wonderful law, she was severing the roots of her suffering. She knew that finding the right medication and a therapist she could trust and talk to was a benefit from her Buddhist practice.

How swiftly the days passed. The first signs of improvement from the medication were
improved sleep and appetite. Jen felt her therapy was going very well. She noticed that
when she chanted more, her daily life continued to improve and she had better therapy
sessions. She also noticed that the more honestly and openly she engaged in her therapy,
the more motivated she was to return to the Gohonzon and ponder the issues before her.
She was also discovering new and better ways of communicating with her husband. Her
feelings of resentment and grief were giving way to a renewed determination to embrace
her husband and their shared life.

Jen returned to see her psychiatrist several months after her initial visit. She was feeling
much better. So she asked him how long she would need to keep taking the medication.
He told her that she needed to stay on her medication for at least four months if not six
months from the point in time when she really began to feel better because she would be
at significant risk for a relapse if she discontinued her medication sooner. Jen agreed to
meet again in four months and decide then what to do about the medication.

Jen’s depression is now in complete remission. She has decreased the frequency of her
therapy sessions, but has decided to keep seeing her therapist for a few more monthly
sessions to solidify the gains she has made in her interpersonal life. While she would
rather never see the dark cloud of depression in her life ever again, she is appreciative of
the gifts her suffering brought her: a more committed relationship with her husband, a
fresh start with her Buddhist practice, and a deeper and more authentic connection with
the members in her district.

There are many SGI-USA members who have found the optimism, hope and life force
they needed to overcome depression through the practice of Buddhism alone. There are
also members like Jen who may need the help of compassionate professionals, support
from their families and fellow members, and a strong daily practice to return to a healthy
life.

Lee Wolfson is a psychologist at Western Psychiatric Clinic and Institute (WPIC), a
division of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center. WPIC is an international leader
in the research and treatment of mood disorders. For the past 11 years, Lee has worked
on several landmark studies in the treatment of depression and bipolar disorder. He has
published several papers on psychotherapy and regularly presents symposia at
professional meetings. He is also a founding member of the International Society of
Interpersonal Psychotherapy. He has practiced Nichiren Daishonin’s Buddhism with the
SGI since 1972.

Hope- the Fuel for Faith

...Hopes set on tomorrow,

Aspiring to the rainbow,

Looking beyond our present woes!

    - Pres. Ikeda, "The Joy of Living"

Hope is the light inside that is gentle and bright by turns. It can spur us forward, buoyant. It can keep our vision for the future dancing out ahead or dwelling softly inside. It is the manna of the soul.

Without hope, every obstacle to our happiness would be perceived as insurmountable.
Hope is the fuel for faith- we hope that embracing faith with all of ourselves, again and again, will lead us to become happy, capable people. Without that spark of hope, faith has little chance to flourish.

And developing a hopeful outlook, in the face of life's hardships, struggles and disappointments, is no small task to set ourselves to each day. We are surrounded by people and events that belie our hopeful intentions. Just snapping on the radio in the morning can immediately drain our hope. Catastrophes abound. One side of the country is burning, the other flooded. Someone trusted their child to a "professional's" care, and now the child is dead. Our political factions bicker and snipe at one another, while revolution erupts in a country where American's political influence proves futile. Sometimes simply waiting at a stoplight and glancing into another person's face will quickly tell you how desperate we are for the clear light if hope.

It is important in the face of all these things to recognize that hope is not the same as wishful thinking. Nor can it cover deep-seated negativity with a thin veneer of positive thinking.  "aspiring to the rainbow," in President Ikeda's words, is not meant to imply that we should be wishing things were somehow different from what they are- or using positive affirmations as a substitute for shouldering the responsibility for our happiness.

Alexander Pope's phrase "Hope springs eternal" suggests this differentiation, by the active verb springs. This word qualified by eternal speaks of inner workings on a profound level. Learning to imbue our lives with hope, then, is engaging in an act of expansion-springing, as it were.

This, by definition, entails pushing the envelope of our very being. It entails moving the known borders out, up and beyond what we can at present conceive of. When we despair of ever changing any one problem or concern, or we become discouraged by what we perceive as a stalemate in our lives, rekindling hope is fundamental to our ability to take further action.

Hope can seem whimsical, intangible, or widly unscientific realm to inhabit. But it is actually a springboard for compelling life-discovery and the hare's breath between surrender to our inner darkness and will to struggle on. Learning to hold fast to hope's expansive vision is the work of faith.

The experiences we accumulate in the process deepen our faith and teach us that remaining hopeful, no matter what the circumstances, is within our power if we "look beyond our present woes," as President Ikeda poem urges, striving to make hope tangible not only for ourselves but for others.

When hope is ignitied from within, we immediately feel ourselves relieved form the weight of worry or sorrow is pressing us. These defining moments need to be recorded, etched in our spirit. Remembering that it is from our hearts, not our minds, that hope springs eternal, we can train our lives a little at a time to retain hope.

The moment hope swells within is a catalyst  for prayer- for action. It is an impetus to study or seek out guidance or encourage someone else. We are sustained by the feeling that despite what we have failed to accomplish todaym we can renew our determination to try again tomorrow. Without hope, tomorrow is a bleak prospect. In fact, without it tomorrow doesn't exist.

Hope is necessary to the human spirit as oxygen and water are essential to our bodies.

World Tribune, 11-28-97 n. 3167 p. 2
Photos by tumblr

What Love is Not

What Love is Not 

"Love is not love..." As Shakespeare once wrote (Sonnet 116), what seems to be love sometimes may not be love at all. As much as the subject of love occupies many people's minds (and perhaps much of their time and money), their greatest concern seems usually confined to finding love or becoming lovable in the eyes of others, rather than the meaning of love or the capacity for loving. The underlying assumption of such an attitude may be that love is a feeling of pleasure and comfort only to be stimulated by an external object. The usual remedy for life without love, therefore, is to find that object—someone new and better. Erich Fromm, a noted psychologist and social philosopher, considers love as an "art" that "requires knowledge and effort"; he defines love as "the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love" (The Art of Loving, pp. 1, 25). If love is one's capacity to wish and act for the happiness and freedom of another person, a fundamental solution to the suffering of love must be sought not outward, but in the development of the character and inner strength that make us capable of loving more genuinely and powerfully.

To master the art of loving is to overcome the desire for control and dependency

One of the greatest obstacles to the joy of loving is our desire for control. We sometimes mistake our wish to control others for our loving concern. We may think of ourselves as affectionate, yet our "love" may be a disguised desire to manipulate others for our personal gain. In his writings, Nichiren Daishonin often uses a mythic Buddhist creature called the "devil king of the sixth heaven" as a metaphor for the deep-seated human desire to control others. Indeed, another name for this devil king literally means the "heavenly being who makes free use of others" (Jpn takejizaiten). Through his lively descriptions of this "devil," the Daishonin seems to indicate the importance of becoming aware and vigilant of our desire to use others as a means to our selfish ends. Since dependency is essential to control, the devil king uses various schemes to make people dependent on him. One of his main tools to encourage dependency is manipulation through feigned affection. Despite the general perception of the devil king as a fierce monster, he is adept at appearing affectionate. To lure people and keep them under his control, the devil king is said to make himself look like a Buddha or parent. For example, the Daishonin states, "The devil king of the sixth heaven is endowed with the Buddha's thirty-two features and manifests the Buddha's body" (Gosho Zenshu, p. 114). The Daishonin also quotes from a Buddhist commentary, which states, "So long as a person does not try to depart from the sufferings of birth and death and aspire to the Buddha vehicle, the devil will watch over him like a parent" (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 770). In fact, there is even a type of devil in the Buddhist tradition called "the devil of compassion" (Gosho Zenshu, p. 526). Those who are eager to control others often appear affectionate—"taking care of them" or "being nice to them"—with the aim of keeping them dependent materially or emotionally. In Ibsen's play A Doll's House, the seemingly affectionate yet controlling husband Torvald Helmer reminds his wife, Nora, of his "love" expressed in the form of financial support: "My pretty little pet is very sweet, but it runs away with an awful lot of money. It's incredible how expensive it is for a man to keep such a pet" (Act 1, trans. by James McFarlane and Jens Arup).

The truth of love is found in our sincerity to act for the happiness and freedom of others

It is easy to mistake control and dependency for love. The appearance of selfish love, however, like that of the devil king's, is only deceptive, for it is conditional to submission. As the Daishonin points out, the devil king is affectionate "so long as a person does not try to depart from" his control (WND, 770). Some people may give anything to their "loved ones" only to keep them dependent. Those obsessed with control, however, usually find it difficult to wish for the genuine happiness and independence of others. Instead, they would hope to see others deprived in one way or another in order to maintain their sense of superiority. The test of our love, in this sense, lies in our sincerity to encourage and work for the self-reliance and freedom of our loved ones. As the Daishonin states, "The nature of this devil king is to rejoice at those who create the karma of the three evil paths and to grieve at those who form the karma of the three good paths" (WND, 42). Those who thrive on domination may easily show pity for others in suffering, while inwardly delighting at the sight. For the misery of others affords those in control yet another opportunity to show their superiority and thereby remind those suffering of their need for dependency. 

At the core of a relationship built on domination and submission lies a profound sense of insecurity and powerlessness on both sides. Those who like to dominate cannot verify the meaning of their existence on their own, so they must derive a sense of power from the subjugation of others. Similarly, those who easily submit to an external authority cannot see their self-worth. So they feel impelled to become part of someone "better" and "stronger" by abandoning their identity and integrity. To such submissive people, control means protection against their own insecurity. Those submissive to an external authority do not see their lives as worthwhile to live for, but they cannot endure the emptiness of having nobody to live for either. So they must seek an external object with which to merge their identity so that they may not face the weakness and emptiness of their own lives. This symbiotic relationship between the dominant and the submissive is disturbed when the submissive party uncovers his or her self-worth and develops the inner strength to become independent. Then the dominant party's insecurity will surface as frustration and anger. 

The Daishonin's following descriptions of the devil king illustrate his intense fear and anxiety in this regard: "When we thus draw near to achieving Buddhahood…the devil king of the sixth heaven, lord of the threefold world, reasons: 'If these persons should become Buddhas, I will suffer loss on two counts. First of all, if they free themselves from the threefold world, they will escape my control. Second, if they become Buddhas, their parents and siblings will also depart from the saha world. How can I stop this from happening?'" (WND, 1094). "When an ordinary person of the latter age is ready to attain Buddhahood…this devil is greatly surprised. He says to himself, 'This is most vexing. If I allow this person to remain in my domain, he not only will free himself from the sufferings of birth and death, but will lead others to enlightenment as well. Moreover, he will take over my realm and change it into a pure land. What shall I do?'" (WND, 894).

To love truly, we must free ourselves from the fundamental darkness within

The devil king does not want anyone to attain enlightenment and become free since that would be a painful reminder of his own powerlessness and dependency. The paradox of this devil king, who "dwells at the summit of the world of desire and rules over the threefold world" (WND, 508), is that he is controlled by his own desire to control. The devil king is a ruler who cannot rule himself. The more control he has, the more of it he needs. He is perpetually driven by his inner weakness and insecurity, never feeling satisfied. He is a prisoner of the prison he himself creates. Although he is said to make "free use of others," he is never free in the innermost reality of his life. The devil king, therefore, is incapable of loving. The devil king is said to dwell in the sixth and highest heaven of the world of desire, but his "love," if it could be so called at all, results only in profound unfulfillment and suffering beneath its heavenly pleasure. 

As William Blake knew, such selfish "Love seeketh only Self to please, / To bind another to Its delight: / Joys in another's loss of ease, / And builds a Hell in Heavens despite" ("The Clod & the Pebble," ed. David V. Erdman). To love truly, we must be free. To be free, then, we must discover our innate self-worth. In the same sonnet quoted earlier, Shakespeare also wrote, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds / Admit impediments." One of the greatest impediments to our ability to love is a delusion about the truth of our inner life—Buddhahood. Such delusion leads to powerlessness and dependency. The mythic devil king is symbolic of this delusion as the Daishonin says, "The fundamental darkness manifests itself as the devil king of the sixth heaven" (WND, 1113). To shed light on this inner "fundamental darkness" through strengthening our confidence in Buddhahood within our lives, then, is an essential practice for the art of loving.


(Originally published in the World Tribune, Dec. 7, 2001)

Breaking Through Our Limitations

Culled from General Lecture by Linda Johnson,
SGI-USA 21.3.98

Nothing is impossible with Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. That is the spirit with which we have to learn to live everyday in order to live our lives to the fullest.
Too often we limit ourselves, we settle too frequently for less than what we want. We all started practicing because we wanted to achieve something beyond what we currently had. We have to reawaken to that fact and re-inspire and remind each other of the power of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

In the gosho "On Attaining Buddhahood", Nichiren Daishonin says: If you wish to free yourself, from the sufferings of birth and death you have endured through eternity and attain supreme enlightenment in this lifetime, you must awaken to the mystic truth which has always been within your life. This truth is Myohorenge-kyo (MW,Vol. 1, pg.3)

Nichiren Daishonin says the only difference between Buddha and common mortal is that a common mortal is still deluded. Too often we spend our days denying our potential. We only see our weakness and allow them to frustrate us. We are always looking for answer outside ourselves. But if we're looking outside ourselves, we're looking in the wrong place. We already have the answer. We already possess everything that we need. The solution to our problems is in the wisdom that is already inside of ourselves. We tap it every time we chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo with the knowledge and the expectations that "I have the answer. I just need to chant to pull out."

It is very important that we start practicing aggressively. Whatever you need each moment of your life, you already have it with Nam-myoho-renge-kyo you can connect to it. You are no longer at the mercy of your environment unless you choose to be.

In the gosho, Reply to Kyo-O, Nichiren Daishonin says: Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is like the roar of a lion. What sickness can therefore be an obstacle? (MW, Vol.l, pg.119) In this gosho, Nichiren Daishonin is not just referring to physical illness. He is talking about any problem, any obstacle. It is no mistake that he chose to refer to the lion, which is known as the king of the jungle. A lion uses the same energy to attack any prey, no matter what its size. Nichiren Daishonin goes on in that same gosho to say: "A sword will be useless in the hands of a coward." (MW,Vol.pg.120)

LouiseyLemur

The Lion King

We limit our happiness every single day. We have conditioned ourselves to limits and we limit ourselves. As soon as things get difficult we decide and we convince ourselves that "reality" is telling us that we cannot have it and we retreat. We change our goals and give in to our limitations.

President Ikeda says: When your determination changes, everything else begins to move in the direction you desire. The moment you resolve to be victorious, every nerve and fiber in your being immediately orient themselves toward your success. On the other hand, if you think, "this is never going to work out," at that instant, every cell in your being will be deflated, giving up the fight. Everything then will move in the direction of failure. I want you to understand the subtle workings of the mind. How you orient your mind, the kind of attitude you have, greatly influence both yourself and your environment.

The Buddhist principle of a single life-moment possessing 3,000 realms completely elucidates the true aspect of life's inner workings. Through the power of strong inner resolve, we can transform ourselves, those around us and the land where we live. Each of us has this tool, this "secret weapon." There is no greater treasure. (World Tribune. July 11, 1997 pg.14)

Many times we've been chanting and give up when things don't move. But with what attitude have we been chanting? We must go for our dreams 100%! Never do anything half-hearted. If in your heart you don't believe it will happen, it will not happen. It matters what you do in front of and away from the Gohonzon. Your attitude always matters.

The solution is always daimoku and if you don’t believe that, then chant to believe it. Chant to have the courage to take action. Chant to pullout of your life what you need and when you need it. The moment you feel weak,fight back. President Ikeda says even if you get knocked down five times, get up six. Always have the spirit to get up. We can change anything in the moment. We can change this moment and tomorrow. We must be courageous; we must challenge those things that we do not believe we can achieve. If we never challenge the impossible, we can never, ever know the full power of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

Marilyn Monroe

The only person who can achieve our dreams is ourselves. We have to rely on ourselves to achieve it, to do it. Nothing in life brings greater joy than achieving a goal through your own effort. If you are not a coward who quits, you can achieve anything. President Ikeda has been writing a lot to the youth lately, but I tell you he's talking to all of us. He says youth isn't just age. It is spiritual strength. Youth means not to be resistant to
change, to never settle for mediocrity and to continually seek growth.

Making constant effort over our lifetime is the key to our happiness. Always be on guard: look at yourself and ask: Am I limiting myself? It is human nature to want to take the path of least resistance. But the path of least resistance is the path of little change, little growth and a lifetime of unhappiness and frustration.

Chanting abundant daimoku is the key to everything. It puts our lives in rhythm so that we can accomplish everything we need to do. It is important to enjoy morning and evening gongyo and daimoku. It is a very mystical experience when you put your practice first, which in effect is putting your life first. You'd be amazed how much you will get done and enjoy doing it. Chanting lots of daimoku is the gift we give ourselves; it is the key to enjoy life.

Aren't we worth it?
We have to encourage each other to stop settling for less and really test this practice. It means a lot of hard work. When we challenge ourselves, a lot of inner resistance comes out. It's about what we do to ourselves to sabotage ourselves. In reality, there are those who demonstrate exception to every rule. Why can't you be the exception all the time? You have the power within you to do that. Faith is to believe in yourself. Stop denying
that you are a Buddha. All you have to do is manifest it from within. Chant to believe you can manifest it. With the right attitude, you can go forward wholeheartedly. Our reality changes from moment to moment. Do not give in to one perception and let it totally take control over your life.

We have the ability to be completely happy, totally victorious, regardless of what another person says or does: irrespective of what's going on in our environment. But if we don't take charge, we won't achieve it. Every time you find yourself putting limitations on yourself, use it as an opportunity to prove that what you can achieve with Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

Our mission is to show the greatness of the law. Nothing is a problem unless we allow it to be. You must use your Buddha nature. Inspire each other to remember from today onward to go for big dreams and big goals. It's time to go for the impossible so that you can really express yourself. It will be the best possible gift you could ever give yourself.

How does Buddhism View Sickness?

By Ted Morino SGI-USA Study Dept Leader
What does Buddhism have to say when Buddhist practitioners become ill?

First, Buddhism views sickness as something inherent in life and therefore unavoidable. Its is a part of the cycle of birth, old age, sickness and death. Yet Buddhism urges us to awaken to the fact that illness is not something permanent in life- it is a temporary phenomenon- and that is can be a meaningful event in one's eternal life. When we fall ill, we tend to see the current sickness as the only thing that matters and therefore we can become its slave perceiving it as an immovable wall or foreboding obstacle separating us from happiness. Some people who are ill may even lose the will to live out their existence joyfully.

However, when  we realize that becoming ill is only a natural phase of our lives -and that it can be an opportunity to build an even more solid foundation of happiness in ourselves-then, we can tap the courageous spirit to face the illness and battle it, as Nichiren Daishonin states, "From illness arises the mind that seeks the way" (The Major Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, vol. 5. 280). Therefore, the important thing when it comes to this problem is to have strong will to triumph over the "devil of sickness." This is the faith with which you can say to yourself: "I will defeat my sickness! I will change poison into medicine!" In order words, often times, sickness itself is not the real problem. If we are defeated in our life-condition by sickness, that is the problem.

SGI Pres. Ikeda says: "In life, you may, by rights, become sick from time to time. However, as you practice to the Gohonzon, you will come to realize that you are now sick because being sick now is the most natural thing  for your life at this moment. In other words, you can consider your sickness to be the sickness of hon'nu [a natural illness that accords with the rhythm of the Law]. Put another way, if your life condition remains healthy through the practice of faith, you will never be swayed by your sickness. You will never fall into painful agony due to your illness. Rather, as you go through your current sickness, you will find your true self or absolute happiness solidifying."

Pres. Toda gave the following encouragement to a person struggling with a serious illness, "A human being had a body that has the potential of developing all kinds of disease, including to cure sickness in the body. Curing our own illness is just like the person who has climbed a slope and will surely climb down it. I can say this with conviction based upon the philosophy of Buddhism. Faith is not something we practice out of formality. Chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo with all your heart- with a burning desire in you your heart to overcome your sickness. No sickness will remain uncured if you chant with the type of determination to offer your entire life from now on for the cause of the Gohonzon, that is, for kosen-rufu, for the peace and happiness of all humanity."

Source: World Tribune.11/27/98.n.3219.p.2.WT981127p02

Do Nichiren Buddhists Believe in God?

by Greg Martin-World Tribune

The answer to this question depends heavily on how one envisions God. One survey reports that ninety-nine percent of Americans claim to believe in God. Yet, in spite of the prevalence of religiosity in America, the escalating crime rate, rampant drug addiction, epidemic mental illness, and revival of the death penalty, to name just a few symptoms, are not signs of a spiritually healthy society. Europeans report a growing blankness -- a god-shaped hole -- where God once existed in the human consciousness.[1]

What also seems clear is that individual conceptualizations of God are not
uniform. There may be as many versions of God as there are people, for the concept of God has never been a static thing. 
As Karen Armstrong writes in “A
History of God,” “Yet it seems that creating gods is something that human beings have always done. When one religious idea ceases to work for them, it is simply replaced. These ideas disappear quietly, like the Sky God, with no great fanfare. In our own day, many people would say that the God worshiped for centuries by Jews, Christians, and Muslims has become as remote as the Sky God.”[2]

Armstrong concludes, “Human beings cannot endure emptiness and desolation; they will fill the vacuum by creating a new focus of meaning. The idols of fundamentalism are not good substitutes for God; if we are to create a vibrant new faith for the twenty-first century, we should, perhaps ponder the history of God for some lessons and warnings.”[3]

When asked if we believe in God, we find ourselves responding to the question
with one of our own: What God are you referring to?

Is it Abraham’s God, the God of the Old Testament? This god was a strict father, a creator, protector and punisher, a giver of law. This god also required the sacrifice by Abraham of his son Isaac and authorized the conquering and killing of many thousands of people.

Is it Augustine’s God, the God of the early Christian Church? This is the god of a powerful church, inheritor of the remnants of the Roman Empire. This god judged all humanity based on Adam’s original sin. The religion based on this god will have us view ourselves as fundamentally flawed -- originally sinful.[5]

Is it Michelangelo’s God, a personal God, as painted on the ceiling of the
Sistine Chapel? This concept of God helped develop the liberal humanism valued so highly in the West. It fit well with an awakening and expanding Europe. This god loves, judges, punishes, sees, hears, creates, and destroys as we do. This god inspires. However, this can also be a liability when one assumes that this god loves what we love and hates what we hate, thereby endorsing our prejudices instead of compelling us to transcend them. The fact is that this “personal” God is male (and usually white) has raised deep existential problems for women and non-whites.[6]

Is it the omnipotent God that some theologians believe died at Auschwitz? The
idea of an all-knowing and all-powerful god is hard for some to reconcile with the evil of the Holocaust. For, if God is truly omnipotent, he could have prevented it. If, they say, he was unable to stop it, he is impotent; if he could have stopped it and chose not to, he is not compassionate.[7]

Our rapidly expanding scientific knowledge about the universe is also making it apparent that God is no longer “up there” or “out there.” The heavens seem empty of the protecting, judging, and caring divine presence envisioned by the ancient world. The result is, according to John Shelby Spong, Episcopal bishop and author of “Why Christianity Must Change or Die,” that tens of millions of people are “believers in exile,” who have lost touch with these God images as taught from traditional pulpits, but are not prepared to abandon the concept of God entirely.[8]

As a snake sloughs its skin as it grows, are we now witnessing the growth of our collective conceptualization of God, leaving behind the old, and for some now inadequate one even as a new one, not yet clear, is born?

Some believe that there is a new view of God emerging in this post-modern age. It abandons the external height images of the historic theistic God and is being replaced with internal depth image of a god that is not apart, but is integral and fundamental part of us. It is a perspective quite consistent with the Buddhist concept of the Mystic Law.

This Mystic Law is the ultimate entity or truth that permeates all phenomena in the universe, but it is not a personified being. There is an ultimate oneness of the human and this ultimate Law -- there is no separation between human beings (all human beings) and this idea of God as a Mystic Law.

This eternal and unchanging truth that resides within us is the source from
which we can draw the compassionate wisdom that accords with changing
circumstances, and the courage and confidence to live according to that wisdom. It is mystical, not magical, because its totality is beyond human conceptualization; and efforts to compartmentalize it, say in human form, only restrict and limit it. It is a law because it is experientially true in the daily lives of individual human beings.

This ultimate reality, ultimate truth, ultimate purity exists in the depths of every human being. Because of this, Buddhists view all people as sacred and perfectly endowed with potential to be wonderfully happy and enlightened individuals. There is no us and them, no godly and ungodly -- all are children of God, entities of the Mystic Law.

Where others looked to the heavens, Buddha looked within and found the priceless jewel of human wonder and possibility. He recognized that we, too, are made of the divine “stuff” of the universe. We’ve simply forgotten who we are.

So do we believe in God? By most traditional definitions, no. But in terms of
how increasing numbers of Christians understand God, yes, we do believe in God. Our name for God is Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, the Mystic Law. We believe it exists both “in here” and “out there,” and that this inner light can shine forth from within when we awaken to it and open our hearts through the act of chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

There will, of course, be many people for whom this understanding of God will be unacceptable. That is fine. But there will be many -- according to one study, as many as twenty-five percent of all adults in America -- for whom it will resonate. People who will find that they also no longer really embrace these earlier versions of God; that they’ve already begun to envision the universe differently, and that the concept of God as Mystic Law matches the understanding that they have reached on their own. They’ll discover, as most SGI-USA members can attest, that the Mystic Law will, quite nicely indeed, fill the god-shaped hole in their spiritual selves.

Artwork Source: Deviantart by bemyunintended

1. Karen Armstrong, “A History of God”, (Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc., Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1993) pp. 397-398
2. Ibid., p. 4.
3. Ibid., p. 398.
4. Ibid., pp. 18-19.
5. Ibid., pp. 123-24.
6. Ibid., pp. 209-10.
7. Ibid., pp. 346.
8. John Shelby Spong, “Why Christianity Must Change or Die” (HarperCollins
Publishers, Inc., San Francisco, 1998) p. 33.
9. Phillip Hammond and David W. Machacck, “Soka Gakkai in America,” (Oxford
University Press Inc., New York 1999).