After Bankei had passed away, a blind man who lived near the master’s temple told a friend: “Since I am blind, I cannot watch a person’s face, so I must judge his character by the sound of his voice. Ordinarily when I hear someone congratulate another upon his happiness or success, I also hear a secret tone of envy. When condolence is expressed for the misfortune of another, I hear pleasure and satisfaction, as if the one condoling was really glad there was something left to gain in his own world.

“In all my experience, however, Bankei’s voice was always sincere. Whenever he expressed happiness, I heard nothing but happiness, and whenever he expressed sorrow, sorrow was all I heard.”

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“Sōka Gakkai Buddhism teaches that one must never look outside of oneself for happiness.”

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“One day, the Buddha and his monks were walking down a road and were confronted by a frantic and miserable farmer racing down the road. He stopped them, saying “Good monks, I have lost my oxen, they were traveling this way. Did you see them?” The Buddha sadly replied, “No, we have not seen them. Perhaps they took the fork in the road back there.” At this, the farmer wailed and continued his complaint. “Only this summer, locusts ate all my crops? What will I do?” and he ran crying down the road. The Buddha watched him go, and turned to his friends, saying “Dear monks, do you know how lucky you are? You never have to worry about your oxen or crops.”

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“It was good to be back in the wilderness again, where everything seems as peace. I was alone — just me and the animals. It was a great feeling — free once more to plan and do as I pleased. Beyond was all around me. My dream was a dream no longer. I suppose I was here because this was something I had to do — not just dream about it but do it. I suppose too I was here to test myself — not that I had never done it before but this time it was to be a more thorough and lasting examination. What was I capable of that I didn’t know yet? Could I really enjoy my own company for an entire year? And was I equal to everything this wild land could throw at me? I had seen its moods in late spring, summer, and early fall but what about the winter? Would I love the isolation then, with its bone-stabbing cold, its ghostly silence? At age 51, I intended to find out.”—Richard Proenneke

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“They always say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself. ”

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