Whispering Wyrd

The Healing Web

recent posts

  • Writing A Book And Living My Life

    I realize my writing schedule isn’t the same as it was before, but as I’ve mentioned in recent posts, it’s because life has been really, really busy lately. Buying a house, welcoming a new grandson into the world, and being inundated with emails and texts from the real estate agent, title company, inspectors, and everyone else involved in the process. On top of all that, I’ve also been writing a book. I haven’t mentioned it publicly until now, but that has been taking up some of my time too.

    I’ve published a couple of books in the past and they did alright, but those books came from a very different place in my life. They were angry books. This one won’t be angry, this one is hopeful.

    The closer it gets to moving into our new home, the more excited I get. There’s still so much to do, and we’ll probably stay busy for quite a while even after the move. That’s just how moving into a new home and a new town goes I guess. Still, instead of feeling overwhelmed, I find myself sincerely grateful and excited about this next chapter of life.

    I remember decades ago when my wife and I had a house built not long after we were married. Back then I wasn’t excited at all. I was irritated by everything. Every phone call, every delay, every inconvenience felt unbearable and infuriating. And that was before smartphones, email, social media, the internet, and the constant noise we live with today.

    But it wasn’t the process itself making me miserable. It was me. I was deep in active alcoholism back then, and then later buried under benzodiazepines too. I wasn’t excited about life because addiction had hollowed me out so much. I was empty inside except for pain and anger. Even good things felt heavy and even blessings felt like burdens back then because of chemicals.

    These days things are different though. Life is still busy, sometimes very busy. There’s still stressful moments, paperwork, responsibilities, worries, and uncertainty. But now I’m clear headed enough to actually experience my life instead of just trying to escape it or numb it. That alone feels like a miracle to me.

    I really didn’t expect to feel this kind of hope at 60 years old. I didn’t expect to still be growing, still learning, still changing. I didn’t expect to be writing again with joy instead of anger. I certainly didn’t expect to be excited about a new home, a new town, new opportunities, or spending time holding my grandson. But here I am!

    Recovery didn’t magically get rid of all the difficulties in my life. It certainly didn’t suddenly make the world perfect. But it gave me something I didn’t have before, like the ability to actually be present for my own life.

    That may not sound like much to some people but for those of us who have lived numbed out, angry, intoxicated, sedated, or just surviving day to day, being able to truly experience life again is an incredible gift.

    New Mexico has been a big part of that healing for me too. The mountains, the skies, the people we’ve met, all of it has helped me to soften and breathe again. Even with all the chaos of moving I find myself looking forward to instead of dreading each tomorrow. That’s something I never want to take for granted again. Ever.

    If you’re struggling right now, especially if you feel like life has passed you by or that change is impossible because of your age or your past, please don’t give up on yourself. Sometimes hope comes back quietly, not with bells and whistles. Sometimes healing happens slowly, and sometimes life surprises us when we least expect it.

    I know it surprised me.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Softening

    I keep learning since getting clean new ways to approach life and I’ve realized I’m not just learning new things… I’m also un-learning old ones. Modern society tries to tell us that softness is weakness and hardness is strength. But I think that’s backward.

    Softness is the way of life. Green grass is soft, water is soft, and new shoots growing on trees, like the fresh growth on my bonsai, are soft. These are all signs of life. But when grass dies, it becomes brittle and stiff. Dead branches become hard and rigid. Hardness and rigidity belong to death, not life.

    There’s an old saying that nothing is softer than water but nothing can withstand its power. Water cuts through rock and it creates rivers and canyons. It shapes the Earth itself. In the case of floods and tsunamis, it can destroy everything in its path. But water never struggles to prove its strength. It just flows according to its own nature.

    I think the human heart is the same way. A hardened heart is nothing to brag about. In the end it usually brings suffering both to ourselves and to others. But in parts of modern culture, having a “soft heart” is treated like some kind of flaw or weakness. That’s a shame.

    I know what it’s like to have a hardened heart. I lived that way for years, decades even. Like the saying goes I had a “heart of stone.” I wasn’t happy then. Addiction, fear, anger, trauma, and constant defensiveness hardened me over time and I was miserable.

    But after so much suffering, recovery, and reflection I can honestly say I now have a soft heart, and I prefer it this way. I’m healthier, happier, more compassionate, and honestly a better man than I used to be. For the first time in my life I genuinely like the person I am becoming.

    I think modern society gets a lot of things backward when it comes to strength, fulfillment, and even truth itself. A lot of times it feels like we’re told there are only two options in how to live… either believe everything blindly without questioning, or reject anything that can’t be measured in a lab somewhere.

    But the idea that balance is the healthiest way is ancient wisdom. It’s been around for thousands of years. Buddhism talks about the Middle Way. Daoism teaches about moderation and harmony. Stoicism teaches balance and deep self awareness. A lot of ancient traditions understood that extremes lead to suffering, yours and everyone’s around you.

    Even babies show this strange truth about softness and strength. A baby is small, fragile, innocent, and helpless, but anyone who’s ever had a baby grip their finger knows how surprisingly powerful that grip can be. A baby doesn’t force anything. It doesn’t need to. Softness has nothing to prove.

    I’ve noticed faith works similarly. If you try to force faith, or force yourself to “be spiritual,” it just becomes artificial. Fake. The ego gets involved and we start keeping score. “I did something good, therefore I must be a good person.” I’ve heard this called “spiritual materialism,” where even goodness becomes something we collect like physical possessions. It strokes the ego.

    But when compassion or faith truly sinks deep into the heart, goodness becomes more natural. You stop calculating and you just simply help when help is needed. You care because caring has become a natural part of who you are.

    But I want to make clear that I do not believe someone needs religion or faith to be a good person. Some of the kindest and most moral people I’ve ever known have no religious beliefs at all. Goodness clearly does not belong exclusively to any religion or philosophy.

    These are just things I’ve been learning since getting clean. I’m not trying to preach to anyone. I write these thoughts for the same reason I write anything else, to document my own journey and hopefully maybe help someone else feel a little less alone in their own journey.

    Addiction and trauma take a heavy toll. They can harden us and they can rewire the nervous system, distort our thinking, and leave us constantly bracing for danger. It can take a long time to learn how to live in a healthier way after that. Maybe I arrived late to these realizations but I’m deeply grateful I have arrived at all.

    I wish you all peace, healing, good health, and love.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

    Photo Credit: Ty Britt

  • Learning To Trust The Good Things

    Wow! So many things are happening so fast, and these are good, exciting things. Our new home is officially under contract now, so nobody can come along and snatch it out from underneath us. Even though we’ve had a home built before, we’ve never purchased one that was already built, and we definitely didn’t expect things to move so fast once we put an offer on it.

    Yesterday my wife and I went to visit our newest grandchild and spent hours holding him. Funny how holding a grandchild can fix almost anything. His parents got a much needed break because he has his days and nights mixed up right now. Awake all night and sleeping most of the day. My wife and I remember those days well and it can definitely be exhausting.

    We’ve been so busy that for the first time in a long time I wasn’t online at all for the last two days, much less writing anything. But this is a really good kind of busy. I can happily live with this kind of busy! So many changes are happening all at once and all of them are good.

    Something I’ve noticed though is how my nervous system reacts to all of this. For so many years, decades actually, it got used to things going horribly wrong. So when things are actually going well, it can feel strange and even a little scary. My nervous system starts thinking, “OK… where’s the disaster hiding? What’s about to happen?” Like it’s waiting for the hammer to drop. On guard and hyper alert. Like it’s looking for some catastrophe and trying to anticipate it before it hits.

    I know that’s trauma speaking. Even knowing that though it can still feel rather unsettling at times. But I’m not gonna to allow fear to create a disaster where there isn’t one.

    I also found something new that really interests me in Tai Chi and Qigong practice. One of the masters I follow posted a video of herself doing something that looked like Tai Chi but in a way I’ve never seen before. Later she explained that it was “freestyle” Tai Chi. The movements and breathing still followed Tai Chi principles, but instead of following a traditional preset form, the movements come spontaneously.

    I loved that idea so I tried it myself and it was really enjoyable! I even told my wife how much I’m looking forward to practicing outdoors more when we move into our new home.

    Between visiting our grandson, handling paperwork for the new house, and driving back and forth between Santa Fe, Albuquerque, and Bernalillo, we’ve really been “burning up the highway” lately as the saying goes. But again this is a good sort of busy. Our lives right now are full of hope, love, gratitude, and excitement.

    I’m so incredibly grateful to be sober and clean. Honestly I don’t believe any of this would be possible if I wasn’t. And even if it somehow was possible, I certainly wouldn’t be able to experience and appreciate it the way I can now. Sobriety has given me the ability to truly be present for my life.

    Lately I keep thinking about something I once heard… One person says, “You only live once,” and another replies, “No, you only die once. You live every day.” That really makes sense to me. This life is unrepeatable and I want to make the most of it while I’m here. That’s what I’m trying to do now.

    I wish you all peace, good health, love, and happiness.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Changes

    A lot has been going on the last few days, lots of changes. But that’s how life is, life is change, life is movement. Today my wife and I are going to look at a house. Today is also the day my wife officially retires after 36 years of teaching. That’s a big milestone, and I’m so happy for her.

    We have loved living here in Santa Fe and have met some amazing people who have become dear friends. But the long winters, the almost constant wind, and especially the high cost of living have led us to make a big decision. We’ve decided to move to another city in New Mexico.

    It’s a major change and we know this will most likely be our last move. That makes it both exciting and scary. It’ll be hard to leave friends and familiar places behind but we really feel this is the right step for us. One of the biggest blessings is that we’ll be closer to our new grandson and his parents, and that means a lot to us.

    So yes, a lot of changes. But that’s life, nothing stays the same. Sometimes we just have to trust the road unfolding beneath our feet and move forward with gratitude for what has been and hope for what comes next.

    I wish you all a peaceful Friday, a good weekend, and a safe holiday. Take care of yourselves and the people you love.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Why I’m “Liberal”

    I saw a post someone recently did about why they are conservative. Some of it I understood, even if I disagreed. But most of it was openly hostile toward other human beings, especially LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and anyone outside their version of Christianity. It made me think about why I hold the views I do.

    So this is my own version, or response, of/to that post. Not to attack anyone and not to “win” an argument, but just to explain why I believe what I believe. I’m liberal because I know what suffering feels like.

    Addiction taught me that life is complicated and that human beings can’t be reduced to simple labels, stereotypes, or political talking points. Recovery taught me compassion because I learned how badly people can hurt, how much shame they can carry, and how much healing can happen when someone is treated with dignity instead of condemnation and judgment.

    I don’t care who someone loves. Truly, why should I? If two consenting adults love each other and treat each other with kindness and respect, I just can’t see how that makes them less worthy of dignity, safety, or happiness. LGBTQ+ people are human beings, not political issues. They deserve the same compassion and freedom anyone else does.

    I believe the immigration system should be lawful, but also humane. This country was built by generation after generation of immigrants. That’s a fact. Wanting a system that is fair, functional, and accessible ain’t the same thing as wanting “open borders.” Most people coming here are not “invaders”. They are human beings looking for safety, work, opportunity, or a better life for their children. The exact same things countless families before them hoped for too.

    I believe freedom of religion also means freedom from religion. The Constitution doesn’t establish Christianity as the official belief system of the United States. People should be free to worship however they choose, whether they are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Pagan, atheist, or whatever else. Real religious freedom means that no one particular faith gets to dominate everyone else.

    I hear people complain about “big government,” but government is already enormous when it comes to surveillance, military spending, restricting rights, and controlling personal decisions. I would rather see energy and money spent helping people stay healthy, educated, housed, and able to vote than endlessly funding war while cutting healthcare, medical research, and social programs ordinary people rely on.

    I’m liberal because I know empathy matters.

    I believe healthcare shouldn’t be just for the rich. I believe workers deserve dignity and I believe science and education matter. I believe women should have bodily autonomy. I believe democracy depends on protecting voting rights instead of making voting harder. I believe diversity is not a threat, and I believe kindness is strength not a weakness.

    Most of all, I believe fear and cruelty are making this world spiritually sick. That doesn’t mean I hate conservatives because I don’t. I know a few kind conservatives, including people I love. But I can’t support politics rooted in fear, exclusion, humiliation, or taking rights away from vulnerable people.

    My spiritual path teaches me that every person carries Buddha-nature. Every person. My life experience taught me that every person carries pain too. Both of those truths has shaped my worldview. I don’t want a world built around domination and cruelty. I want a world built around compassion, dignity, truth, and care for one another. I’m not liberal because I hate anyone. I’m liberal because suffering changed me.

    That’s why I’m liberal.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Pausing Long Enough To Live

    Here lately I’ve been asking myself what do I really want with the time I have left? Not a “to do” list or a bucket list, but what do I really want for my life now? And also maybe just as much, how do I want to be remembered?

    Some people will always remember me as an alcoholic or an addict and I can’t change that. The past is the past and it’s gone. But I can try to make a difference from this point forward. I might not be able to reclaim the decades I lost to addiction but I also don’t have to let those decades be the thing that defines me.

    Since getting clean I’ve been thinking a lot more seriously about health and healing. Not just physical health, but emotional and spiritual health too. I’ve written before about things like qigong, meditation, and slowing the nervous system down. But yesterday something really hit me even more… pause.

    Not stopping life or giving up on goals or becoming inactive. I mean truly slowing down internally. Pausing long enough to appreciate the people I love, the beauty around me, and the life I still have right now.

    Maybe it’s not ironic at all that I became addicted to alcohol and benzodiazepines, both are nervous system depressants. My mind has raced for as far back as I can remember. Constantly scanning and constantly thinking ahead. Trying to prepare for any and every possible catastrophe before it happens. Watching my surroundings and monitoring my body at the same time, always alert for danger or threat.

    Part of that, I’ve been told, is “trauma brain” and part of it is my ADD. Whatever the reason is, my nervous system has spent most of my life acting like it’s never really safe.

    Yesterday at the memorial, surrounded by so many people, I could feel my mind working overtime. Scanning faces, scanning the whole area, tracking exits. Listening for changes in tone and movement without even meaning to. Not because I didn’t want to be there, but because that’s just what my mind does. I can’t help it. By the time we got home I immediately started searching online for another healing book, another answer, another thing to “fix” myself.

    And then it hit me… I don’t need another thing to rush toward right now, I need to slow down. I need to just breathe and learn how to just be here without trying to fix everything.

    Meditation has helped with that. So has walking, prayer, qigong, and learning to sit with myself. But that old “hurry hurry hurry” voice and the “scan for threat” mindset are still there a lot of the time. And I realized something else… trauma really does live in the body, just like I was told. Years ago a psychiatrist told me that and I dismissed it as new age hogwash. Now I know they were right. The body remembers what the mind tries to bury or outrun.

    That kind of pain can hurt and change a person for decades. I think that’s why taking care of myself still feels weirdly uncomfortable sometimes. Deep down I had the belief for a really long time that I wasn’t worthy of care or kindness. Too many harsh words, too many mistakes, and too many years of feeling broken caused that belief. Those things go deeper than we realize I think.

    So now at 60 years old I’m learning something I probably should have learned a long time ago, how to be gentle with myself and how to slow down enough to actually live instead of just surviving or just existing.

    I know it won’t happen overnight, real healing rarely does. But I can already feel that slowing down, breathing more deeply, and turning down some of that noise inside is helping. I know I’m not alone in this.

    There are so many people out there still carrying old wounds years or even decades after the original pain. So many people whose nervous systems never learned how to rest or relax. I know what that suffering feels like. That’s one reason I keep writing and sharing what I’m learning along the way.

    Because other people helped me by sharing their own stories honestly and openly. This is my way of trying to pay that kindness forward.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • My Little Square Foot Of The World

    I’ve been feeling a weird and persistent heaviness lately, a sadness I just haven’t been able to explain or completely put my finger on. The recent birth of my grandson is certainly joyous, and I couldn’t be happier about that, but this feeling still just hangs on. Sometimes putting a name to a feeling helps me address it properly, but I just couldn’t find the right word for this one. At first I thought it was melancholy, but that isn’t exactly right either. I think the most correct word for what I’ve been feeling is weltschmerz. It’s German and literally means something like “world pain.” That’s pretty darn accurate for what I’ve been feeling.

    I’ve noticed that since getting clean I don’t have a thick skin anymore. It’s like I’ve gone from one extreme to another. When I was drinking and taking drugs my heart was cold as ice and hard as stone. Nothing really affected me. It wasn’t just the alcohol and drugs either, I had so much anger in me that very little if anything could get through it. Disasters didn’t faze me except maybe to make me even angrier. Compassion just wasn’t something I possessed much of back then. I know It’s awful but I lived with an attitude of “As long as it doesn’t affect me or mine, we’re good.”

    But now it’s different. Now I seem to feel everything. Not just notice it, but feel it deeply. The hate, the wars, the violence, the cruelty, and the apathy in the world affecting me in ways they never ever used to before. That’s one reason I stopped reading the news and headlines a while back. It was wrecking me. But even when I avoid the noise I’m still aware of what’s happening around me.

    Then recently there was a murder that, for reasons of privacy, I won’t go into detail about even though it has now made national news. I didn’t personally know the person but it still hit me hard because I know people who did know them and loved them. I guess it’s a case of their pain becoming my pain. When people I care about are hurting I hurt too.

    It feels like all the other grief and heaviness in the world had already been piling up inside me, wobbling unstably and this latest thing was enough to make it all come crashing down. I found myself shocked by how much hatred exists in the world. Hate that gets so big it destroys lives.

    I’m not naive about violence. A good part of my younger years were spent around people of extreme violence. You never knew when something was going to pop off. I learned to harden myself in order to survive it. I drank and used drugs because of it. Maybe this change in me is age or maybe it’s being clean and sober. Or maybe a combination of both, I don’t know.

    But I do know that the suffering in the world affects me deeply now even when it doesn’t directly involve me personally. For a while I really didn’t know what to do with that feeling because I felt completely powerless against it. Then earlier today during a conversation I got some good advice and realized something…

    I can’t stop all the hate and violence in the world and I can’t fix humanity. But I can make my own tiny little part of the world better. I can make my small square foot of the world a safer and kinder place.

    I can show up for the people in my orbit. I can support people when they’re hurting. I can check on them, listen to them, share food, offer kindness, and help my immediate community however I can. None of that will change the whole world but it can change somebody else’s world in that particular moment.

    Just family taking care of family and neighbors taking care of neighbors. Just human beings refusing to lose their kindness in a world that seems absolutely determined to rip itself apart on a daily basis. Then the weltschmerz eases up a little, at least for now.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Even The Hard Roads

    A few days ago my wife and I were out walking together. I always love walking with her, holding her hand while we talk about our hopes and dreams for the future. That day we were talking about all the different roads life has taken us down, some beautiful and some very painful. She paused for a second and said something that I’ve been thinking about ever since. She said life is definitely a journey full of lessons, gifts, and tough challenges too. It was something about the way she said it that hit me I guess.

    Lately we’ve been spending time helping my son and daughter in law with their new baby, our new grandson. We’ve been cooking meals, helping clean, and just trying to make things a little easier for them while they adjust as first time parents. I remember those days well! Caring for a newborn can be beautiful, exhausting, overwhelming, and wonderful all at the same time.

    We feel fortunate that this grandchild lives close enough for us to be part of those moments. Our other grandchild lives back in Texas so we treasure every visit and every video call with her. Life changes so fast. One minute you’re the young parent trying to figure everything out and before you know it you’re the grandparent standing in the kitchen cooking dinner while your children become parents themselves.

    That journey my wife mentioned keeps coming back to my mind. As weird as it may sound or seem, I’m grateful for my journey so far. Definitely not because all of it was good. Some parts were painful, even absolutely terrifying, and nearly destroyed me. I don’t mean that metaphorically either. I would never want to relive my years of alcoholism and addiction or the long and absolutely brutal recovery from benzos. But I’m still grateful for what those experiences taught me. Recovery showed me parts of myself I never would never have discovered otherwise.

    It taught me that I have far more resolve than I ever thought possible. There was a point during withdrawal where I knew there was no turning back. I had already had two seizures from the withdrawal process and reinstating the drug had serious risks at that point of the process. I was terrified and exhausted but I had no choice but to keep going.

    People say recovery is “one day at a time.” But during that period of my life it wasn’t even one day at a time. Sometimes it was one hour at a time. Sometimes one minute at a time. I wasn’t chasing “enlightenment” or trying to be inspirational. I was just trying to survive in the most literal sense of the word survival. And with the help and support of my wife and sons, minute by minute, I did survive.

    I’m deeply grateful for every person who helped me along the way, even if all they did was say a few kind words at the right moment. Small acts of kindness matter more than people may realize. A little encouragement can help carry somebody farther than they may ever know.

    I’m even grateful for some of the people who judged me extremely harshly during active addiction. More than one person told me to my face that I was going to hell when I died. At the time those words infuriated me, but they also taught me how not to share spiritual beliefs with others. Suffering taught me the value of compassion.

    These days I look at life a lot differently. My journey hasn’t been perfect by any means, but it has been real. It brought me love, family, hard lessons, recovery, grandchildren, wisdom, scars, and gratitude. Even the painful roads of this journey shaped who I am today.

    I think that’s part of the journey, not trying to pretend the tough roads were beautiful. Recognizing that we can still learn something meaningful from having had to walk them though.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • The Beauty Of Ordinary Days

    I haven’t written anything in a while. I’ve been busy because I have a new grandson! I think I really needed the break from writing. I feel refreshed now and maybe even having a slightly different perspective than before.

    The time away from writing made me realize how easy it is to fall in to routines that start feeling too familiar. Not complacency, because I know how fast life can change, but sometimes a routine can become so predictable that you forget how fortunate you really are. You stop noticing the blessings sitting right in front of you. The birth of a second grandchild reminded me of that.

    During this time I also joined the Buddhist Churches of America. I wanted to become part of that sangha so I could connect with more Shin Buddhists, continue learning, and support a community that means a lot to me.

    I’ve also started a new health routine inspired by a book I’m reading that combines modern Western medicine with Traditional Chinese Medicine. At 60 years old and after everything benzo withdrawals and BIND (Benzodiazepine-Induced Neurological Dysfunction) have put me through I think it’s time to take a more proactive approach to caring for myself. The physical pain from BIND and sleep struggles still hurt me and I’m hoping these new techniques help bring some balance and much needed healing. I didn’t realize was just how bad I needed time to simply breathe and enjoy life again. A reboot so to speak.

    Some things also came up recently with people we know that made me stop and think about why I write in the first place. If I’m writing only to keep a streak going, 7 days, 10 days, 30 days, then sometimes I’m publishing just to publish. But when I write because I genuinely have something I want to say, something that might help another person feel less alone or more hopeful, then the writing feels right again. It comes from the right place instead of from pressure or habit.

    So today I’m not writing because I think I have something profound to say. I’m just sharing a life update and what an ordinary day in recovery can actually look like.

    Healing from trauma, alcoholism, and addiction isn’t always dramatic or “fireworks”. Most of the time it’s just life with all its struggles, monotony, beauty, and small joys. Recovery doesn’t always look exciting but these days I get to live life clearly. I don’t wake up hungover. I don’t move through my days sedated, dulled, or disconnected from the people I love because of drugs.

    I can hold my new grandson with clear eyes and a clear mind. I can play with my granddaughter and share music with her while being completely present for every single moment. I can be there for my wife and sons without any chemicals standing between us. That means more to me than all the chaos and excitement I used to chase.

    I think a lot of us who struggled with addiction also struggled with stillness. “Normal” felt extremely uncomfortable. We needed excitement, intensity, drama and escape even if it hurt us. Sometimes if chaos wasn’t happening by itself we created it ourselves because peace felt unfamiliar and scary. At least to me it did.

    These days I love the “boring” things I used to couldn’t tolerate. Things like quiet evenings, family conversations and sharing music. Sitting together doing absolutely nothing important. Even the restless or monotonous moments feel precious now because they are real and I’m actually here for them.

    So hug your loved ones today. Tell them you love them. Enjoy the ordinary moments even if they seem boring at the time. Count your blessings and you might be surprised by how many you actually have.

    Amituofo
    ~Buck

  • Still Held

    I am torn this way and that.
     My mind aching from the poisons of worry and fear.
     My body weak and stiff from tension.
     This foolish “I” can do nothing to rescue myself.

    Frequently lost in the delusion of permanence
     I grasp at this and that,
     Not understanding the illusory nature of all things.

    How grateful I am for Boundless Compassion
     And Infinite Light!
     This foolish being need not worry anymore,
     for although consumed by blind passions,
     I am still held.

    Namu Amida Butsu

    Amituofo
    ~Buck