Remember how I talked about the futility of trying to figure out which one of the Ten Worlds you might be in at any given moment? The theory of mutual possession explains that the Ten Worlds operate as a flowing continuum. Life is not a static process.
You may wake up one morning feeling on top of the world (Rapture). You and your lover had a wondrous night and the day couldn't hold any more promise. You're going off to a job you love and while driving to work (Humanity) you reflect on the past day (a little more Rapture). Traffic is bad (combination of Hell and Anger) and you arrive at the office a little out of sorts. Snapping at the receptionist (Animality), you're off to see the boss (some more Animality in the opposite direction) who informs you that a merger has resulted in your being laid off (big time Hell). You leave work distraught, but on the hour's drive home you calm down (Humanity), consider the fact that this may be a great opportunity to allow you to write the book you've always wanted to (Learning and Realization) and spend some time with your paramour (Hunger). Upon arriving home earlier than usual you find him or her in the arms of another (really bigtime Hell). Out of your Anger, you decide to either kill yourself (ultimate Hell) or fight to make the world a better place where this kind of bad stuff doesn't happen to people (Bodhisattva).

I guess I was a little more facetious than I needed to be above, but the point is that in the course of a given day we all traverse the lower nine worlds. If we practice Buddhism, making contact with our own Buddha nature through that practice, we get to experience all ten.

This fluidity of experience -- of touching bases with all the various possibilities of our consciousness even in the space of a single day -- is what the concept of mutual possession is trying to define.

The theory is that no matter what condition we find ourselves in, there is the eternal potential to be in a completely different state in the matter of an instant.

The second aspect of mutual possession is simply an extension of the first, only more long-term. What it postulates is that, even as we crisscross the Ten Worlds during the course of our daily existence, we have a core world toward which we tend to gravitate.

In other words, even as we experience hell, anger, humanity, etc. in our day to day existence, we define ourselves by the roles we play.

For instance, a junkie scoring some dope might be experiencing Rapture from his or her core existence in Hell. A business mover and shaker looking over the day's stock market activities may be manifesting Humanity from a central condition of Animality. A professor desperately wanting acknowledgment on the basis of a publication might be viewed as temporarily residing in Hunger while the worlds of Learning and Realization are the hallmark of his or her existence.

In other words, this view of mutual possession distinguishes the entire range of our daily experience from the perspective of the long-term function we are performing.

Ultimately, we all strive to upgrade that long-term function in whatever way we can. Most junkies would like to get clean and even the most opportunistic businessmen eventually graduate from "he who dies with the most toys wins" to "you can't take it with you."

If we can tap our eternal Buddha nature within to manifest the long-term function of Bodhisattva, then we are free to play whatever role we wish secure in the knowledge that whatever causes we make will yield the greatest rewards. We will always experience all ten of the Ten Worlds, because that's life, but our own Buddhahood or enlightenment is what we will return to.

Mutual possession represents the second ten in the formula 10x10x10x3=3000 realms. The first ten are the individual Ten Worlds, each multiplied by the second ten, namely all Ten Worlds as potential.

The final factor of ten that gets us to one thousand is known as the Ten Factors.

I'm sorry that with all the factors and aspects and realms and worlds, these names of these theories get a little redundant in their wording. The problem is, to some extent, with the language. Remember that all these concepts were originally created as pictograms that sometimes may literally tell an entire story. When the pictograms are translated into English, they lose something in the translation. That loss is what I'm trying to compensate for as I attempt an in-depth explanation of each concept. Unfortunately, I know it sounds a little muddy.

Nonetheless, if you'll just take the time to read what the theories are actually proposing, I think you'll see they are distinct and profound.

The Ten Factors are appearance, nature, entity, power, influence, internal cause, external cause, latent effect, manifest effect and consistency from beginning to end.

The Ten Factors don't lend themselves to the same kind of individual description as the Ten Worlds because, rather than being conditions unto themselves, they are elements by which those conditions manifest in reality.

I like to think of the Ten Factors as a definition of how an existence manifests and functions in time and space. Let me expand on this a bit.

Appearance, nature and entity form the foundation of the Buddhist description of that which appears in reality. These correspond to another very important Buddhist term known as the three truths. These are easiest to understand if we apply this triad to human beings, although it could just as easily apply to other living things, as well as insentient and even non-living objects.

Appearance is perhaps the easiest to describe because it is the most obvious -- it is what we see, hear, touch, smell and feel. It can be said that appearance is the most important of the ten factors. When something appears to us, not only do we acknowledge that it exists, we also usually have a sense of what to do about it.

In the case of the human being, appearance is certainly a great clue to the existence we are dealing with. "What you see is what you get," "appearances are deceiving," love at first sight," are all examples of the kind of stock we put in appearance.

Nevertheless, there is also the unseen nature of the person -- the potential he or she has to look different, behave differently, or feel and believe differently than they do now. We all change -- we are awake, we are asleep, we are attractive, we are a mess, we are in Hell, we are in Rapture. The factor of "nature" defines our potential to be something other than what we appear to be at present, and is critical from the long-term perspective of things.

Entity is the essence of the thing itself -- its human-ness, its plant-ness, its rock-ness. A rock appears as a rock, yet over millions of years has the nature or potential to be gravel. Whatever it may be, however, it will always be rock.

Similarly, look at yourself. You probably look very little like you did twenty years ago, or how you will look twenty years from now. You, in all likelihood, feel quite differently now than you did yesterday at this time, and will tomorrow at this time. We are all eternally changing and yet, throughout our lifetime, there is one thing that remains the same -- we still think of ourselves as "me." That is our entity.

The "me" I thought of when I was five years old feels no different than the "me" I think of now or the "me" I will connect with hopefully at ninety. I'm not saying that I haven't or will not change. I am saying that I will never change into someone else. The entity of Cris Roman is "me."

Buddhism would say that the core of "me" -- the fundamental entity of my entity -- is the Buddha. Nichiren would say that the Buddha's entity is Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

Chanting that mantra equates to calling forth the deepest aspect of my being over and over. Eventually, just like a lost puppy, the part of me that is connected to all the other entities of the universe comes running.

Having now described the factors that give me form and potential, the fourth and fifth factors of power and influence describe my existence in space.

My appearance and nature stem from my entity, which derives power from the universal essence with which I am one. Through my existence that universal essence exerts influence into my environment. Think of ripples spreading out from a stone thrown in a pond and you'll get the picture. Now, multiply that by the billions of existences on this planet and you'll start to get some idea of the myriad intersecting influences in our environment and why they wreak such havoc in our everyday lives.

The ripples spreading out in the pond are not only perceived in terms of space but are also viewed over time. That is how we perceive reality -- in space and time.

I cannot say, "I will meet you at two p.m." and not specify where, or the meeting will most likely not happen. Similarly, "I will meet you at the motel" may leave me equally unfulfilled. We need to specify both time and space for our activities or they may not yield much fruit.

Internal cause, external cause, latent effect and manifest effect are the four factors that describe the activity of an existence in time.

Buddhism teaches the law of simultaneous cause and effect. Yet we perceive cause and effect to be separated by time, often great amounts of time. These four factors provide some insight into that seeming paradox. When we internally initiate a cause, we simultaneously create its latent effect.

However, all we generally see is the external cause and its manifest effect. This is the reality of our existence and yet much of it is not readily perceivable -- many effects have not yet made their appearance. This is critical.

Buddhism explains quite clearly that karma is created through thought, speech and action. Particularly in the case of thought, one might think that no real cause is being created since nothing has necessarily been "done."

Nonetheless, Buddhism explains that even the smallest internal cause creates latent effect. So what becomes important is the continual awareness that nothing arising from our innate power is without influence and subsequent result.

I'm not saying this to get everyone paranoid and think they have to exercise some kind of Gestapo-like mind-control over themselves to keep from getting bad effects.

Rather, we should not rationalize our negative thoughts or feelings too much. Obviously, thinking about killing someone isn't as serious as actually doing it or even giving voice to it. But it's still not particularly healthy.

Instead of clamping down on or suppressing our thoughts, what Buddhism would encourage us to do is develop a healthier, wiser life-condition wherein our thoughts become less worthy of censor and more worthy of productive external cause-making. This in turn will reward us with only the most fruitful manifest effects.

Finally, consistency from beginning to end is that factor which describes how existence -- from its initial appearance to its manifest effect -- will ultimately reflect a particular condition of life.

In simple terms, those who exist in hell and through time and space exert hellish influence will definitely receive hellish effects. Those in any other life condition will similarly reap rewards consistent with that condition.

No one during the course of even a single day makes causes from only one certain place. The key is to consciously try and shift our condition from lower to higher so that, in the final analysis, the positive outweighs the negative.

Because of the "time" element of the ten factors, one should never be surprised if the factor of "consistency from beginning" to end isn't always immediately apparent. This explains why so many of the SOBs in this world never seem to get their just deserts. (Don't worry -- unless they've learned how to live in an alternate universe, the ten factors will nail them in the end.)

The final element that goes into producing the Three Thousand Realms in a Momentary State of Existence is known as the Three Realms of Existence.

When I was working with the Org study department, I recall that at one time we translated this as the "Three Principles of Individualization." However, I've looked through many publications trying to determine if that translation was ever actually used and have been unable to find it.

If I had my own way, I would come up with new and different translations of all these concepts that did more to convey their breadth and depth in a more poetic and comprehensive manner. Unfortunately, my dilemma here is that, for those readers who may have a nodding acquaintance with Nichiren Buddhism, it is important that I reference terms with which they may be familiar.

The Three Realms of Existence essentially describe three principles by which individual identity is established vis-à-vis the world around us.

The first principle is known as the five components of form, perception, conception, volition and consciousness. What it expounds is that moment by moment and day by day we temporarily gather together and bind within ourselves both an internal consciousness and perception of external phenomena that serve to individuate us.

Simply put, what we see and experience combined with how we feel at any given moment moves us to act in a manner that defines us individually. Over the course of a lifetime, and sometimes only a week, we behave as very different individuals.

Mutual Possession of the Ten Worlds explains both the temporary nature of the way in which the five components gather and the potential they have for change. The five components emanate from the life-condition or world we may be dwelling in at any given moment.

Perhaps an example would be appropriate here. One time in 1976, I was fed up with my situation with The Org. I hated Los Angeles. I felt stagnant in my personal life. I thought the small-minded nit-picking going on in my office would be the death of me. The futility of what I perceived, combined with the way I was feeling, led me to precipitously write a letter of resignation and put it on my editor's desk.

It was a little before lunch and I was feeling so depressed that I went home to take a nap. Three hours later I awoke with a start and, in a panic, thought, "What have I done?"

My mood, my thoughts, and my ideas on what to do about them were 180 degrees from where they had been before my nap. It was not just a matter of some much-needed rest, it was a total realignment of how I was looking at things. Luckily, I rushed back to my office to find that, as the flake that I knew him to be, the editor had not yet returned from his regular six hour lunch and the letter was still unopened where I had left it.

Other than an uneventful nap, nothing had transpired to change my essential situation. Somehow the five components rearranged themselves into a more optimistic point of view while I was sleeping. I know it sounds like a silly little story, but twenty-three years later I still recall it as a major experience of the extent to which one's sense of oneself can literally transform in a heartbeat (or quick nap).

So, the way in which we perceive, conceive and act upon things is one of the principles by which we define ourselves as individuals.

The second realm is translated, really badly, as the principle of living beings or social environment. This one, just by dint of the bad English, took me years to figure out. I'll try to save you some time.

If you are in a place with other people, your perceptions of that place, compared with those of others, may be totally different. You're in their environment while they're in yours -- you see shadows where they see light, etc.

Not only are your physical positions different, this individuation also has to do with the different ways in which the five components gather within you as well as the different life-conditions you each manifest.

Buddhism is pointing out that the second way in which we individuate ourselves is in interaction with other people -- the social environment. This is not simply a comparison of ourselves to them -- she's happier than I, he has more money than me, or they're all better looking. Rather, it is testimony to the fact that the greatest rewards and sorrows of our existence have their source in the human interactions we experience.

How many people attempt to define themselves by what happened to them as children? How many people, upon being recognized for their great achievements, hasten to point out that their greatest joy is what they find with their friends and family?

Human beings, frail and temporal though we may be, derive a great sense of our common humanity and individuality through the way they interact with others, in both contrasting and complementary ways.

Therefore, T'ien-t'ai hastened to point out that in addition to how we internally and temporarily gather the five components with ourselves, another definition of what makes us individual is how we rub up against and create causes with other human beings.

The third and final realm of existence is the principle of the land or the environment. Even as we coalesce the five components within ourselves and interact with other human beings, the place in which we undertake our activities is of primary importance.

An example of how we consider ourselves individuals based on the land might be found in the fact that we consider ourselves earthlings. Many of the people reading this consider themselves Americans. The environment (by which I means surroundings containing both sentient and insentient objects) becomes a primary source of our identity.

On a more personal level, the environment over time tends to reflect the fundamental world or life condition we exist in. This goes back to the concept of fusion between self and the environment that I talked about earlier.

If we can come to truly grasp the concept that the environment is a real extension of our being, then the concept of enlightenment and Buddhahood becomes much easier to grasp.

For one thing, it becomes clear that we do not have to look for some other place (be it heaven or hell) to reap our life's rewards. The sutras encourage us to create the Buddhaland right here on earth, where we live. This is not a place of flowing milk and honey with beautiful gardens where never is heard a discouraging word. It is a place wherein our every thought, word and action is synchronized with opportunities without.

As a result, we find we are able to actualize our true human potential and, like those pebbles upon a placid pond, radiate ripples out through the environment that affect others. Enlightenment develops as we grow aware of the fact that we are doing this.

How many of us, when asked what life is truly all about, might answer something along the lines of "I want to make a difference."

The theory of Three Thousand Realms in a Momentary State of Existence clarifies how each individual life has the ability to develop the highest possible condition. It explains how we can extend that condition into the world around us and, ultimately, transform that world into the Buddhaland.

It was within the context of this grand theory that Nichiren believed he found the formula by which every man and woman could gain supreme awareness and happiness.

The only problem lay in how to apply it. How do you take the wondrous depiction of the Treasure Tower Ceremony, the elegant comprehensiveness of the Three Thousand Realms and render it all practicable?

The lovely prose of the Lotus Sutra may only be available to those who are able to read and comprehend Sakyamuni's profound and complex metaphors. T'ien-t'ai's theories are probably only accessible to those in the seventh and eighth worlds of Learning and Realization. The meditative levels needed to comprehend all the various worlds, factors, realms and principles and assimilate them into one all-encompassing worldview would be very high indeed.

What Nichiren wanted, more than anything else, was to create a teaching that could be handed down to every sort of man, woman and child.

Hence, the Gohonzon.

Nichiren already knew that Nam-myoho-renge-kyo was the internal component by which each human being could affirm the righteousness of the Lotus Sutra and the correctness of the Three Thousand Realms.

What the Gohonzon was meant to be was the external existence that forms the completion of the individual life/environment circuit with regard to the attainment of Buddhahood.

Before you can create life, you must literally fuse with another human being in your surroundings. Before you can travel more than ten miles an hour, you must either fuse with a horse or some kind of mechanical device. Similarly, before you can manifest the Buddha nature within and without yourself, there must be a fusion with something in the environment.

Nichiren insisted that the something be nothing less than a total actualization of the Three Thousand Realms. He reasoned that the internal aspect of Buddhahood is human life itself and the ability of that life to invoke Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Therefore, the external component with which fusion must be sought in order to create the Buddhaland must be one that reflects the totality of the Buddha's teaching -- the heart of the Lotus Sutra.

I wish holograms had been presently perfected. If so, a small one of me, replete with beard and middle age girth, would leap out from these pages to protest, "Please, please, please remember that although the Gohonzon is outside of you, it is not distinct from or greater than you."

This is the problem with the Western mind. I blame some of it on Judeo-Christian culture, but even more of it on that son-of-a-bitch Aristotle.

Aristotle's teacher, Plato, through the wonderful allegory of the cave, taught in very Buddhist fashion about a oneness that pervades and under-girds all mankind.

Aristotle, with his brilliant mind and flawless logic, attempted to place man in control of things. In his teachings, the environment became a place that man had dominion over -- a static place in which sentient and insentient beings might be manipulated by man's effort.

To me, he was the Mr. Spock of Western civilization. He took the passions and metaphors of Plato and reduced them to sheer logic. He also took the faith out of living. Small wonder that religions that arose in his wake were forced to adopt the world-view of separation between self and surroundings.

I say all this not to demean Aristotle -- I do stand in awe of his mind and his teachings. Rather, I hope to fundamentally deprogram the Western reader from the tendency to want to transcendentally deify -- whether it be the Buddha, the Lotus Sutra, Nichiren or the Gohonzon.

I do not believe it was Nichiren's intent to have us worship him, or Sakaymuni, or any other historic or mythological Buddha for that matter.

Nichiren inscribed the Gohonzon as something both divine and mundane -- divine in the sense that it manifests the essence of the Lotus Sutra and is therefore the revelation of a true universal doctrine, but mundane in that it is a simple mandala which represents no one man or God.

Now here comes the hard part.

My belief, and it is just that -- a belief -- is that Nichiren so understood the workings of the mystic law and the theory of the Three Thousand Realms that he was able to literally place them in the Gohonzon.

In one of his writings he said, "I, Nichiren, have inscribed my life in sumi (ink), so believe in the Gohonzon with your whole heart. The Buddha's will is the Lotus Sutra, but the soul of Nichiren is nothing other than Nam-myoho-renge-kyo."

This is why we refer to the Gohonzon as having power, and why we accord it a great amount of respect.

Nonetheless, this is different from saying the Gohonzon is an entity to be worshipped as something distinct and separate from us.

Remember what the Pieta did to me at the New York World's Fair? What I felt was not the life of Michaelangelo, but rather the attributes permanently accruing to that hunk of marble as a result of his efforts.

This notion only works if you accept the dual premise that the environment is an extension of your own life and objects within the environment manifest the Three Thousand Realms in accordance with their relationship to the living entities co-existing in that environment....

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Chapter 1: Looking for a Bridge

Chapter 2: Nichiren and the Lotus Sutra

Chapter 3: Defining Nam-myoho-renge-kyo

Chapter 4: The Benefits of Buddhist Practice

Chapter 5: A Focal Point for One's Faith

Chapter 6: The Gohonzon and Bodhisattva Practice

Chapter 7: A Personal Relationship with the Gohonzon

Chapter 8: Theoretical Underpinnings of the Gohonzon

Chapter 9: Theoretical Underpinnings of the Gohonzon, Part Two

Chapter 10: Gongyo, An Intensely Personal Symphony