by Laura Mintz
Miami
As the plane took off, I let out a deep sigh, the tension of the last 60-hour work week leaving my body. This paid vacation was long overdue and up until then, impossible.
I’d started at my company as a contract employee, a position with few benefits and no track to a full-time position. But being a Buddhist, I determined from the jump that I’d be the first to carve such a path for myself. By 2024, I was three years in, working overtime for large chunks of the year. But mine was still considered a “part-time” role, which meant I didn’t have the benefits of my peers. It had taken great courage for me to go to bat for a plan to earn paid time off. My boss had agreed, and I’d worked my tail off, and now I was cashing all of it in. My plane was bound for Barcelona, where I’d meet up with one of my best friends to rejuvenate and relax.
For the following month, that’s all that I did, until the very last day. My friend asked about my goals and I told her them all, and then she told me she had a few for me. I felt myself shrink and my body go numb as she told me what they were. Raising concerns about my weight, she suggested that I see a nutritionist and start going to the gym.
Boarding my plane back to Miami, I felt as exhausted as I’d left—plus bewildered and hurt. Her comments, I knew, were only skin-deep, but they cut all the way to the bone.
They were still on my mind a couple weeks later when my women’s leader came by to catch up. She heard me out before suggesting something that, frankly, set me off.
Given that my friend’s words were bringing up so much, they must contain something of value for me. “Often” she said, “it’s been the difficult people who have pushed me to transform something profound.”
This was just after the new year of 2025, and I was trying to look at my life with fresh eyes. Chanting this way and reading Ikeda Sensei’s guidance on health, my heart slowly arrived to a new determination: This year, I’ll become the strongest Laura I can possibly be. Not long after I’d made this a daily prayer, I was offered district leadership. I said yes, knowing that taking on this challenge was somehow deeply tied to that prayer. In fact, I began to see everything in this way, as something to help me grow stronger. And opportunities just kept coming.
It was at a friend’s birthday party, that April, where I met someone who I connected with right away. I mentioned I was looking for a physical trainer, and she told me that this was what she was. As we spoke, it came up that we were both SGI members, though she’d put her Buddhist practice on hold. We exchanged numbers and were in the gym by May. By summer’s end, she’d reconnected with her district.
The workouts, to be honest, were brutal at first, both physically and mentally. Harder than waking early, harder than the discomfort was allowing myself to be vulnerable. By nature, I’m a perfectionist-overachiever, and I was doing something I had zero mastery of. But my Buddhist practice had taught me that perseverance is strength—that big results come from not giving up.
By September, I’d entered a new rhythm of life, winning in every sphere. Preparing to run my first 5K in November, I’d kicked my training into high gear. The members of my district were winning as well, inspiring guests to receive the Gohonzon. Youth were taking on leadership too, bringing fresh ideas and energy. Focused on the happiness of myself and others, I no longer fixated on work. Yet my work performance continually improved, right alongside my growing self-esteem. But in October, my self-esteem was shaken, when my work announced a “reorg.” This meant, we all knew, layoffs and downsizing, but the fear truly set in the next month. When all contract workers were let go at once, my immediate thought was I’m next.
Reaching out to my women’s leader for guidance, she encouraged me to chant for the best outcome for me, the company and everyone involved, while reminding me to be fully convinced of my own tremendous value and mission.
As I chanted fighting daimoku, I realized that the self-doubt I was feeling was not new. It was precisely what I’d been working for months to transform and was yet another opportunity for me to grow stronger. But the battle was real—a battle to believe in myself. My practical brain laid out the possible outcomes. The two obvious ones were that I’d be let go or kept on. But as I chanted, a third possibility leapt to mind. An unreasonable, slightly crazy hope, there it was, nonetheless. The third possibility was that I’d realize the prayer I’d had since my first day on the job. I began chanting that amid all these frightening events, I would be made full time.
As I began chanting this way—fiercely, with every ounce of my being—I found I was not so afraid for myself. I was focused more on the people around me, on sharing with them what was most uplifting for me. Engraving in my heart encouragement from Sensei, I shared it with my peers:
It is only when we struggle against adversity that the tremendous power residing in the very depths of our lives begins to reveal itself. Those who can summon great strength at the most challenging time are victors. This is an unchanging rule of history. (The Wisdom for Creating Happiness and Peace, part 2, revised edition, p. 141)
In December, I met with my bosses to find out what would become of my job. That morning, I chanted to the Gohonzon with absolute conviction and pictured myself victorious, sharing this experience with others.
The meeting opened with one director expressing how deeply I was valued and even admired by my managers and peers. She said it was time I was rewarded for my efforts—that it was time I was made full time!
The news was bittersweet when others had been let go. But it was also more than a career milestone for me. I had transformed fear into conviction and seen my environment respond to that change. I became, every step of the way, a more courageous Laura.
This February, I took another vacation, meeting again with my friend in Barcelona. The first comment she made was on how good I looked—I had lost over 30 pounds. “Thank you,” I said, and then we really caught up, discussing our hopes, worries and struggles. We talked about all the most important things, the ones that help people grow stronger.
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