by Tia Waller Pryde and Paul Pryde
San Leandro, California
World Tribune: Thank you, Tia and Paul, for speaking with us. Of the many benefits you received practicing Buddhism for decades, what was your first?
Tia Waller Pryde: Growing up, I never considered myself a risk-taker. In the face of new challenges, I experienced profound self-doubt and a fear of not being good enough. My Catholic upbringing embedded in me the idea that “Oh Lord, I am not worthy.” Others saw my potential, but it was always difficult for me to see it in myself.
When I was 23 and just a week into my practice, I got an amazing opportunity to open a Montessori school for low-income kids, a dream of mine. As if on cue, my self-doubt and fear emerged. But this time, chanting kept the negative talk at bay. Though the learning curve was huge, I opened my school. And as excited as I was about that, my first true benefit was the growing happiness and confidence I experienced each day. From that point onward, I chanted to become fearless, not in a reckless sense, but to face my challenges with the absolute conviction that I would win over them.
I grew in my practice, changed financial problems, took on new career opportunities and transformed painful personal and professional relationships. But the benefit I most treasure is marrying Paul—the love of my life—after a 20-year, on-and-off long-
distance relationship, and experiencing unimaginable happiness.
Paul Pryde: I started practicing Buddhism in 1998, after 20 years of Tia’s gentle encouragement. For most of my adult life, I co-owned a small consulting firm that designed financial solutions for small businesses. Selling ideas was an often rewarding—but always insecure—way to live. I worried constantly; anxiety was the background noise of my life. And try as I might, I could rarely find the “off” button for the almost constant vibration of stress.
Chanting was key, especially when times were particularly tough—like when my business partner absconded with most of our firm’s cash and left me with six-figure debts. When I couldn’t sleep, I’d get up at 4 a.m. and “self-medicate” with daimoku and then go back to sleep. It worked, and gradually my internal changes made it easier to deal with the external problems.
I can’t tell you exactly how I did it, but I paid off the debts in less than four years. What I do know is that I chanted more than ever before, supported the members in my district and took action based on my prayer. This victory gave me enormous confidence in my ability to overcome any difficulty, and I was full of appreciation. It also set me up well when, years later, I faced one of my greatest health challenges.
WT: Paul, can you share more about your health challenge?
Paul: In 2011, shortly before my 70th birthday, my doctor diagnosed me with chronic kidney disease. This progressive condition can be slowed but not cured. Fortunately, I’d always been active and maintained a healthy diet, which helped. We lived with it for 10 years—always chanting about it but never worrying about it a lot.
It took more than 10 years until my kidneys started to fail and I needed a transplant. We were ecstatic when we learned that Tia could be the donor.
I was now 80 and Tia was 71. A transplant is not an option for most people my age because their health is too fragile, and surgery is riskier. But after extensive testing, we were both approved. We consistently chanted a lot of daimoku together for total victory and took every opportunity to share this Buddhism, especially with young people.
Tia: But a week before the transplant, one of my tests came up positive for an infection and, out of an abundance of caution, the surgery was postponed.
It’s interesting when you’ve lived with someone for a long time. You know when they’re sad or discouraged. Paul gets quiet. But there’s a wonderful thing he does: He sits in front of the Gohonzon. “Babe, we’re gonna do this,” he said.
Throughout this whole period, I was determined to introduce youth to the practice, and I had many more real conversations about Buddhism with young people, family members and friends. It was truly joyful.
A new surgery date was set, and Paul received my kidney this past January.
Paul: The surgery was a success with no complications. I feel better than I have in a decade. In the hospital, we shared Buddhism with all the doctors and nurses, and they listened, mainly because Tia and I were having so much fun.
WT: What wonderful news. What did you take away from this journey?
Tia: I really wanted our lives to inspire other people—particularly young people. That was the purpose of going through this, so we could encourage others. That’s why I knew we would win.
Paul: In the end, getting a kidney was not the main benefit of this journey. The other was a profound sense of gratitude, for Tia—my favorite human being in this world—and for life itself.
I tell young people that facts and circumstances are neutral. We may attach words like good and bad to events, but when you get older, you’ll find that some of the “bad” things were the best things that ever happened to you.
With this practice, you can keep your life condition high so that no matter what happens you don’t fall into despair and hopelessness.
Tia: Being able to help extend and improve the quality of Paul’s life has been my great fortune, and we both deeply appreciate all the daimoku and encouragement from everyone around us.
And in respect to that goal of being fearless I made so many years ago, I can say with confidence that though doubt and fear are part of being human, I no longer hang on to either of them for very long.
Q: What advice would you give the youth?
Paul Pryde: Ikeda Sensei reminds us of how to approach challenges: “Essentially, I believe that our basic spirit as practitioners of Buddhism should be to never be perturbed by anything that may happen. People tend naturally to be pessimistic. I think it’s important to make a conscious effort to look on the bright side” (The Third Stage of Life, revised edition, p. 40).
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