Living Buddhism: Thank you for sharing your experience with us. We understand that you’ve been practicing Buddhism since 1972, more than five decades—wow! What was your earliest challenge?
Valerie Ewing: Thank you. If you’d have asked back then, I’d have told you it was my husband, Michael. We’d met in college, where we were voted most unlikely to last—a rocky relationship from the jump. To everyone’s surprise, we married after graduating, but within the year were on the verge of divorce. That’s when I found the practice.
At the outset, I made an impossible goal: for our marriage to last. Indeed, we did, outlasting many who had understandably bet against us. We were together 55 years, until his passing two years ago.
What changed?
Valerie: I did. I awakened, or reawakened, to who I truly was.
For as long as I could remember, I’d struggled with my health—mental and physical. Sickly, I was told I wouldn’t live past 18, and in addition was diagnosed with chronic depression and bi-polar disorder. Throughout all of this, or rather, alongside all of this, an irrepressible creativity compelled me toward the arts. Sewing, dancing, painting, designing, I couldn’t help but express myself through these. I sensed early on that my creativity was interwoven with my mental health. When I joined the SGI, I found abundant avenues for creative expression. In fact, you could say that both Michael and I joined dancing.
A big festival was underway and we were invited to join one of the dance troupes. Never mind that Michael was not a dancer. He was, according to the arts department director; he just didn’t know it yet.
Chanting abundantly, I choreographed the dance, designed the costumes and performed myself, all of which I undertook with a sense of mission. Life is a drama, full of twists and turns. In the face of difficulties, we must be bold and daring and vibrant. As I shared Buddhism with many, many people, I ingrained this in my life and my art. Still, crushing depression persisted for years, and for the first five years of my practice, I overcame overwhelming thoughts of taking my life. The doctors didn’t have a way to treat me, so in the beginning, I self-medicated with alcohol.
A key thing about Buddhism, though, is fortune. I sensed, even in my darkest hours, that I was changing my karma. Engaging in SGI activities, sharing Buddhism and chanting abundantly, I was building fortune.
There were times when the depression took me under. But when I surfaced, there was Michael, smiling. There were my four beautiful children. There was the life that friends and doctors had bet I’d never have. I never forgot my fortune, even in my darkest hour, and would check into a hospital if I felt I was in danger. There, in recovery, I’d begin to make art—out of clay or yarn or paints, whatever was handy, and all around me other patients would make art as well, turning poison into medicine, hell into a Buddha land. My mission, I felt, was to use my battle with mental illness to show actual proof of the Gohonzon’s power. With this vow as my foundation, I found in time a treatment plan that helped stabilize my daily life.
This faith victory would take on new meaning for you decades later.
Valerie: Ten years ago, I went to my doctor for a routine check-up. When asked how I was doing, I responded that I had been feeling a bit strange. I was falling a lot and my hands shook, so much so that my beautiful handwriting had become illegible. Also, my voice seemed a bit soft. The doctor recommended an MRI and reported the day after that I’d tested positive for Parkinson’s disease.
What was your first response?
Valerie: I was shocked. I had no clue what it was. I was referred to a neurologist who specializes in movement disorders. He suggested, based on the irregular curve of my spine and noticeable cognitive decline, that I had probably lived with Parkinson’s for about eight years. I realized that I would have to rethink the way I lived my life.
I was grateful that I could put a face on the symptoms that had been plaguing me for years. But I had to do something fast because my symptoms were steadily progressing. At the same time, I didn’t want to share the diagnosis with anyone, not even Michael—part of me feared the stigma attached to the illness.
How long until you told your husband?
Valerie: It took me almost three months. He was surprised and also uncertain of how best to support; he didn’t know much about the disease. All my fears were eased, however, by his smile. The next day began as ever, together in front of the Gohonzon.
As someone with multiple diagnoses, what did treatment look like?
Valerie: A battle. One early hurdle was finding the best doctors to treat both my longstanding bi-polar disorder and my developing Parkinson’s. The medications prescribed by my psychiatrist and neurologist clashed, but I could not do without either. In the beginning, overwhelmed, I cried and cried. Chanting alongside Michael to receive the benefits of both medicines, however, I realized that now was not the time for a pity party. I reached out to a senior in faith.
What were you encouraged to do?
Valerie: To go back to the basics of this practice—increase my daimoku, dive deeper into my Buddhist study, share Buddhism with others and strengthen my vow with my mentor, Ikeda Sensei. I decided that it was time for me to transform karma into mission. In Nichiren Buddhism, Bodhisattvas of the Earth are those who make a great vow to lead other people to happiness through chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Through the eyes of faith, this illness was something I had voluntarily assumed so I could show others actual proof of the power of the Gohonzon to transform any poison into medicine.
My morning rhythm with Michael took on a new element. After gongyo, we opened our favorite Gosho passage from “The Opening of the Eyes,” where Nichiren Daishonin writes:
Although I and my disciples may encounter various difficulties, if we do not harbor doubts in our hearts, we will as a matter of course attain Buddhahood. Do not have doubts simply because heaven does not lend you protection. Do not be discouraged because you do not enjoy an easy and secure existence in this life. This is what I have taught my disciples morning and evening, and yet they begin to harbor doubts and abandon their faith.
Foolish men are likely to forget the promises they have made when the crucial moment comes.[1]
It was time for me to live this Gosho. Chanting like never before, I planted seeds of the Mystic Law at every opportunity and began writing to Sensei on a steady basis, bringing out my courage and fighting spirit. As my treatment progressed, my mornings with Michael took on another dimension—dance. I choreographed an exercise routine that we did side by side each day. And rather swiftly, the worst of my Parkinson’s symptoms started to regress.
What other lessons did you apply from your years of Buddhist practice?
Valerie: Back in 2005, I had developed knee problems and a senior in faith encouraged me to make a real determination to strengthen my faith so that I could overcome my challenge. She also encouraged me to write to Sensei on a regular basis. At some point, I realized that I was no longer writing to Sensei about just my personal challenges. I was writing about events in my local organization, how the members were doing, our challenges and our victories. I was documenting with my life the progress of kosen-rufu in my environment. In this repetition, I learned to more easily pull forth my determination and connect to my vow and humanity. I kept these letters in a box, and by the time of Sensei’s passing, I had written him over 700 letters. It was in this process that bringing forth my determination at the crucial moment became muscle memory.
Parkinson’s is considered an incurable disease. But you began fighting against the despair that told you this illness was unbeatable. What came of this?
Valerie: I decided that I needed to give back. About 1 million people in the U.S. have Parkinson’s disease and more than 8.5 million worldwide, according to the Parkinson’s Foundation. African Americans represent a small percentage of that picture, and the lack of resources and services in communities of color can make research difficult.
I received training from the National Parkinson’s Foundation to be an advocate and collaborate with people of color for research purposes. I became a facilitator for the Chicago Movement Coalition, which aims to educate and bring awareness to communities of color about Parkinson’s. I also joined a national support group for African American women and their care partners. The story of my battle with the disease will be included in an upcoming book, and I am featured in a video that highlights the journey of African Americans to bring awareness and encourage people to get involved with research for a cure. These activities have given me the chance to share Buddhism with many others. I now feel that having Parkinson’s is not a curse but a gift.
What a profound perspective.
Valerie: I see all my illnesses as benefits because they have helped me develop faith in the Gohonzon and see the power of my life. Chanting daimoku is the strongest medicine, because I’m still here. Also, throughout my practice, I have always taken on leadership, done activities, done shakubuku and taken care of the members. I think all of this was instrumental in me being able to outlive the prediction that I would die at 18, be without children and succumb to depression. I’m 76 now, and I can say that I’m truly happy.
How about your family and art?
Valerie: I’m deeply fortunate that my children have stepped up to become my care partners in enjoying an active life. I love and appreciate them more than I can say.
As for my art, it’s true that there are certain techniques that are no longer available to me. But the expression of the inner world is not limited to a set of techniques. This year, I sold 11 paintings in an art exhibition, all watercolors, all expressions of my inner life, something no illness can take from me. It is true that I have Parkinson’s, but Parkinson’s does not have me.
I’d like to end with a poem I once received alongside a photo from Sensei, which he and Mrs. Ikeda presented to the women of India during their visit there in 1992:
Happy are those who are undefeated.
Happy are those who are unafraid.
Happy are those who have strong faith.
You are all queens of happiness.[2]
My family, friendships, art and community work—with all my endeavors, with my very life, I’ve responded and will continue to respond to Sensei, knowing this: I am undefeated, and I am truly happy.
You are reading {{ meterCount }} of {{ meterMax }} free premium articles