Living Buddhism: Thank you so much for sharing your journey with us. Although you were born into a family that practices Buddhism, you didn’t begin chanting seriously until after college. What was the turning point for you?
Alexandria Jones: After college, I landed what I thought was my dream job in interior design, and I was living with my partner of several years. On paper, everything looked perfect—I was checking all the boxes: career, relationship, stability. But inside, I felt empty. I felt like a passenger, not the driver of my own life.
I had watched my mother endure so much—raising five kids on her own, overcoming one obstacle after another as a fierce protector. But no matter what came her way, she never crumbled. She had this unshakable strength, and I knew that strength came from her Buddhist practice.
Watching her live undefeated, I realized I had that same strength within me—I just needed to unlock it. That’s when I made the decision to begin chanting seriously. I didn’t know exactly what would change, but I knew I needed to change. I wanted to feel in control of my life.
You referred to your mother as a “fierce protector.”
Alex: My father struggled with serious mental health issues, and my siblings and I spent much of our childhood in fear of him. Although most of his anger and violence was directed toward my mother, that tension enveloped our home.
My mother stood like a fortress between us and the chaos. She shielded us with her strength, her determination and her belief that things could be better. When the situation escalated, my mother, siblings and I would go to a family friend’s home. I have vivid memories of us spending many nights there.
I was 4 when my parents separated. About a year later, my father was arrested for domestic violence and went to jail. Then they officially divorced. It was a turning point for all of us.

Was it during those challenging times that your mother’s resilience shone through?
Alex: She didn’t just survive—she transformed our lives. She summoned the courage of a lion and made it her mission to transform our family’s karma. She chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo with unwavering faith, pouring every ounce of her being into creating a peaceful life for us. And she did. She turned chaos into calm, fear into safety, and pain into joy.
After the violence ended and we were finally free from the fear, our home, which was on an acre of land, became a peaceful oasis. I have golden memories of always being outside, picking fruit and spending time with the many animals we had taken in.
Undoubtedly, your mother’s spirit deeply impacted your life. How did your experience with your father affect you?
Alex: I’d say that, despite my father, I had a great childhood. However, his absence left a mark. I grew up questioning my worth, which filtered into every aspect of my life. In high school, I gravitated toward people who didn’t treat me well. I got into one toxic relationship after another because I simply couldn’t see the value of my life. My friends similarly didn’t value their lives, so we made a lot of poor choices and behaved recklessly together. My first job out of college was another example. I was overlooked, underpaid and constantly had to learn how to advocate for myself.
I kept searching for happiness and validation in all the wrong places, blaming the external world for the emptiness I felt inside.

Then you began to chant. What was the first benefit you saw from chanting?
Alex: At the time, I was in a volatile relationship. I felt like my family karma in some ways was continuing in this relationship. I didn’t want to suffer from this for the rest of my life or be in a situation similar to that of my parents. I was unhappy but paralyzed by fear. The first thing I chanted for was clarity about what action to take. I didn’t know how to leave or even if I was capable of creating a full life on my own.
I reached out to the SGI community in San Diego. I’ll never forget the warmth I felt from the SGI members there. They welcomed me with open arms. Every Monday night, I joined their district chanting sessions, and it was life-changing. For the first time I had a space where I could reflect on and process my life.
It was like I stood at a crossroads: one path was more fear, continued unhappiness and remaining a mere passenger in my life. The other path would take courage, but it would be a path that I chose to pave on my own. I decided that it was time to sepa-
rate with my partner and that we would do so respecting each other throughout the entire process.
That’s quite a change—from not having the courage to break it off to deciding how the breakup would unfold.
Alex: I’ve learned that every moment in life offers us a choice.
I chanted with a fierce determination—not just to end the relationship but to do so with respect and for both of us to remain amicable. The more I chanted, the more the environment shifted. When we finally broke up, we still had four months left on our lease, and incredibly, we coexisted as friends. We supported each other through the transition and parted with genuine care. He even helped me move into my new place when it was time.
That was the first time I truly proved the power of chanting to myself. It awakened a strength and courage in me I didn’t know I had. It was my first taste of feeling empowered, and I knew then that this was the kind of life I wanted to lead. A life where I was the protagonist, not the victim.
What did that look like in terms of your Buddhist practice?
Alex: I started getting more involved in SGI activities and took on leadership roles. At first, I’ll be honest, it was mostly out of obligation. I thought, They asked me because I’m the only young woman here. But something shifted in 2021. I began to truly grasp the importance of supporting others as a central aspect of Buddhist practice. Up until that point, I’m not sure I believed I had anything meaningful to offer.
Can you tell us what happened?
Alex: My mom had battled chronic illness for as long as I can remember. She was always in and out of the hospital for one reason or another. When I was in high school, she was diagnosed with stage 5 kidney failure and had to go on home dialysis. But even with a sickly body like that, her spirit was untouchable. No matter what happened, she sat in front of the Gohonzon and chanted. That was her answer to everything. That was her strength.
When I was 18, I hoped to donate my kidney to my mother, but I wasn’t a match. We learned that she was a match for under .1% of the population. It felt like a seemingly impossible situation, but she finally received a kidney in 2017, when I was 22. After her transplant, things seemed to improve for a while, but in 2021, her health took a steep dive. She was in excruciating and debilitating pain.
By then, I had started practicing Buddhism consistently, and my daily practice was strong. I knew what I needed to do. I had to step up and take care of her. For the first time our roles were reversed. After years of watching her carry all of us, it was my turn to support her.
For several weeks, I moved back home. I cooked her meals. Managed her medications. Scheduled every appointment. Bathed her. Advocated for her like she had done for me my entire life. She eventually recovered fully. Through supporting my mother in this way, I realized my capacity to support others. I could be the protagonist of my life, not just for my sake but for the people around me.
I took on greater responsibility within the SGI and supported the young women to the best of my ability with a new sense of mission. Supporting others gave me hope and determination to move my life forward.
This experience would be important for you later down the road.
Alex: Yes. In April 2023, I got the call that changed everything.
I was at work in San Diego when my sister’s boyfriend called and said to come to my mother’s home. He didn’t say the words—but I knew. My body knew. My worst fear had come true. I jumped in my car and drove two hours to Riverside. It felt like the longest drive of my life. I was screaming, asking Why? Why? Why? Is this real? Is my mom really gone? My mind was racing, my heart shattering with every mile.
When I pulled up to her house, police cars and paramedics surrounded her home, and neighbors had gathered to get a glimpse of the commotion. In the middle of that chaos, something rose up inside me.
What did you do?
Alex: I shared Buddhism. I don’t know if I was thinking, but overwhelmed by everything, I asked myself: How can I create value in this moment?
Instinctively, I told the neighbors that my mother was a Buddhist and that she chanted Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. It felt good to share Buddhism in that moment. I then spoke to the police officer. Then to the coroner. Then the chaplain. I introduced all of them to the practice that had saved my mother time and time again. In those moments, I felt my mother and her undefeated spirit.
My mother had not been feeling well prior to her passing, but we assumed she just had an irritating cold. We hadn’t expected her to go so soon. When we walked into her home, the altar was open, and the altar light was on. She had been chanting in her final moments, and that brought me peace. Even in death, she was teaching me about faith.
How did your mother’s passing affect you?
Alex: It shattered me. My mom was my everything—my best friend, my anchor. Losing her felt like the ground had been pulled from under me. In addition to this, I was named an executor of my mother’s will, which meant that all the decisions after her death needed to be initiated and signed off by me.
But to my surprise, despite being in the depths of hell, rather than the typical questions of Why me? or Can I do this? I didn’t doubt myself. My Buddhist practice and SGI leadership over the years trained me for this moment. I asked myself, Will I persevere or let my mother’s death take me out? I don’t come from a family that gives up. We are SGI members, so I decided this was not going to break me.
In the days that followed, I bought every book I could from Ikeda Sensei about death. In the introduction to the book Unlocking the Mysteries of Birth and Death, Sensei shares: “Strength and wisdom, Buddhism explains, derive from life force. If we cultivate sufficient life force, we can not only withstand life’s adversities but transform them into causes of happiness and empowerment” (p. 2).
It would have been easy to resent my practice or doubt all of the causes I had made, but I decided I would create value from this. If I let this destroy me, then her death would become a poison. But if I transformed this—if I used it to become stronger, more compassionate, more determined—then I would have turned her death into medicine. Sensei’s guidance reminded me that I had to strengthen my life force through daimoku in order to do so.

What steps did you take?
Alex: I chanted a lot—a powerful lion’s roar-type of daimoku every day to keep any negative functions at bay.
When I chanted this way, I felt so connected to my mom. I could feel her life, her energy, her courage pulsing through mine. Her mentor was Sensei, so the more I read, the more I felt connected to her and the more I understood where my mother got her strength.
I felt a new level of appreciation for my daily Buddhist practice and the SGI community. This tragic experience also brought my siblings together. We chanted together and united for the sake of my mother.
Buddhism teaches that life is eternal, which means my mom isn’t gone. That’s why I can still feel her. I feel her all the time. I can feel her in the warm sun, in the flowers blooming, in the butterflies fluttering their wings and the hummingbirds perching in the trees. I can still hear her voice encouraging me.
That’s beautiful. You started a new career recently. What are you doing now?
Alex: I’m working full time and going to school to become a doctor of acupuncture and Chinese herbal medicine. I have three more years left, and while it has been challenging, it has also been deeply fulfilling. It was something I’ve been going back and forth about for several years, something I discussed extensively with my mom. She always told me I would figure it out.

What was the catalyst for deciding to pursue your dreams?
Alex: As I visited one young woman after another after my mother’s passing, I realized that others were suffering, but they were also striving in their lives. Empowered by the way the young women were challenging themselves, I decided I wanted to challenge myself, too, to live fully and not let anything hold me back.
My goal now is to live a joyful life while fulfilling my own unique mission every day. My mother’s life taught me that victory isn’t about having an easy path. It’s about facing whatever comes my way with courage and the spirit to never give up. Now, I live with that same vow. To be someone who transforms suffering into hope. To prove, through my life, that no matter how deep the pain, with Sensei’s guidance and my Buddhist practice, I can create value. I can win.
My mother lives on in the causes I make. I feel her in every moment I choose faith over fear. That’s how I honor her, how I keep her alive in my heart.
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