Finding My Rhythm in Life

There was a period in my life when everything felt out of rhythm. My career felt stagnant, my greatest passion seemed to be fading away, and even my health appeared to be working against me. Looking back today, I realize those challenges became the foundation for one of the greatest transformations of my life.

I had recently begun practicing Nichiren Buddhism while struggling with increasing frustration at work. Although I was working in a demanding finance and accounting role, it was never an area that truly matched my strengths. Every task required enormous effort, the work environment was highly stressful, and despite consistently delivering results, my contributions rarely received meaningful recognition.

Outside the office, music had always been my greatest passion. I played drums in a rock band, and every weekend we gathered to compose original songs with the dream of releasing our own album one day. Years passed, but opportunities never seemed to arrive. Concert organizers preferred established performers, and whenever we were invited to perform, it was usually without payment and only as an opening act.

Gradually, discouragement spread through the band. Two key members eventually left, believing the dream would never become reality. Their departure left all of us disappointed and emotionally exhausted.

Then another unexpected setback arrived.

Years of playing loud percussion had damaged my hearing. I suddenly lost a significant portion of hearing in one ear and developed severe tinnitus. The constant ringing never stopped. Doctors advised me to stay away from loud music, prescribed medication, and warned me to be extremely careful. For someone whose greatest joy came from playing drums, it felt as though life itself had become silent.

It was during this difficult period that my wife introduced me to Nichiren Buddhism.

I did not become deeply involved immediately. I simply began chanting, attending meetings occasionally, and reading Sensei's encouragement. One message touched me deeply: never allow circumstances to defeat your spirit. Those words slowly began changing the way I viewed my problems.

Months later, an unexpected opportunity completely changed the course of my practice.

I was invited to participate as a percussionist in a major youth cultural performance. At first, I did not fully understand why this opportunity mattered so much, but I accepted the challenge with sincerity.

Preparing for the performance demanded tremendous discipline.

Every weekend I travelled long distances for rehearsals, waking before dawn, balancing family responsibilities, work commitments, financial pressures, and endless practice sessions. As a drummer accustomed to individual performance, I also had to completely relearn how to perform as part of a synchronized ensemble.

Initially, I struggled with being corrected repeatedly and learning unfamiliar techniques. Yet instead of resisting, I decided to treat every rehearsal as an opportunity to polish myself rather than simply improve my musical skills.

Something began changing inside me.

The more sincerely I challenged myself, the less I complained about inconvenience. Weekend travel that had once seemed exhausting became a source of inspiration. Chanting together with fellow members strengthened my determination. I also learned gongyo more deeply, began engaging in dialogues with people I met during my travels, and even introduced a few friends to the practice.

By the time the performance finally arrived, I was no longer thinking about my personal problems.

Standing on stage with fellow performers before thousands of people, I experienced overwhelming gratitude. The thunderous applause that followed was far more than appreciation for a musical performance. It felt like a celebration of the inner journey each of us had undergone together.

After that experience, victories began appearing in unexpected ways.

At work, I was assigned responsibilities that finally matched my actual strengths. For the first time, my contributions were openly acknowledged, and I felt valued for the expertise I could genuinely offer instead of constantly struggling in the wrong role.

My health also began improving. Although the tinnitus did not disappear completely, its intensity reduced noticeably, allowing me to enjoy music once again without constantly feeling defeated by my condition.

Even my musical journey took a remarkable turn.

Our band was invited to perform as the main act at one of our biggest concerts. For the first time, audiences enthusiastically responded to our original compositions and even demanded an encore. The dream that had seemed impossible for years suddenly felt within reach.

Another transformation surprised me even more.

When another guitarist eventually left the band, my reaction was completely different from before. Instead of feeling betrayed, I felt grateful for everything he had contributed. We even decided to acknowledge his role in our musical journey by crediting him on our album. I realized that Buddhist practice had changed not only my circumstances but also my heart.

Today, I understand that success is not created by talent alone. It is created by continually polishing one's life, maintaining gratitude, and refusing to abandon one's dreams despite repeated setbacks.

The workplace that once felt discouraging has become a place where I can create value. The music that once seemed impossible to share now reaches audiences with joy. Even my health challenge has become a reminder to treasure every opportunity I receive.

I continue to determine each day to strengthen my faith, encourage others through my own example, deepen my human revolution, and keep building both my life and my dreams—one prayer, one effort, and one victory at a time.