Today, I'm going to tell you a love story - mine. I was head over heels in love with a fellow member of the SGI (Soka Gakkai International). This is a lay Buddhist organization headquartered in Japan, which can claim at most about one out of every 1,000 in the USA as members.
I want to share my love story, since it helps illustrate a lot about SGI Buddhism that you won't find in any theological writings. This, perhaps inadvertently, illustrates a prime SGI principle: "Buddhism equals daily life."
It is said the Buddha used many expedient means in order to introduce living beings to Buddhist teachings. I hope the power of gossip (which this tale might end up inspiring) will prove to be such a means in my quest to shake things up here in Chicago, the scene of what I'm about to share.
The Principals
These five are the principals (whose real first names I am citing), all fellow SGI members of long standing (for over 20 years), who were involved in this drama in the last half of 2002:
- Marilyn - my SGI district chief, the object of my unrequited love, at the time informally separated from her husband;
- Steve - that's me (informally separated from my wife), one of five roommates who paid rent to Marilyn to live in a house she was trying to buy;
- Stan - a men's division leader;
- Mark - my chapter's Men's Division leader (two or more districts - the smallest unit - make up a chapter);
- Kathy - Mark's wife, who was my chapter chief.
Many Chicago-area SGI members came to know about my wish to win Marilyn's heart. But, after all was said and done, not a single one spoke to me about this. I didn't get any advice, guidance (except once, briefly, which I'll detail below), or even a willingness to be a good listener. I have found this to be typical of SGI members, at least in my personal experience - that is, they don't engage their fellow members in more than superficial conversation. And if I would have sought guidance from some senior leader, I'm sure he would have just "encouraged" me to chant about this.
This silence is ironic since SGI prides itself on hosting weekly "discussion" meetings in order to promote its brand of Buddhism. But...there's never any discussion - only the most basic, general type of religious material gets covered. Not to mention: SGI once dubbed one year in particular (can't recall which one) as the Year of Dialog and Friendship. In my 20+ years with the Soka Gakkai, I can't say I ever had one member who was a friend nor can I remember much in the way of dialog. Dialog seemed to make my fellow members nervous, especially the things that I would bring up.
Background
In May of 2001, I moved out of my home of 21 years and into Marilyn's house. She heard I was leaving my wife and offered me a room in this house she was trying to buy. I would be the fifth adult to share this space. For that first year, all of us got along fairly well. Since Marilyn (who I had known for several years) was my district chief, we held weekly SGI meetings in her living room, which I (as in the past) enthusiastically attended.
During the summer of 2002, Marilyn went on a vacation to Europe as a guest of the guy she was currently dating, some millionaire who had retired at a young age. This trip was to last for several months. During that summer, Stan and Mark paid me a home visit - or HV as it's known among SGI members. This is basically a visit during which members will chant together and try to encourage the visited person in the development of his faith.
After we chanted, we chatted and the subject of Marilyn came up. One of the guys - can't remember which one - asked, "You love her, don't you?" I admitted I did, but had no thought of pursuing a relationship. Long story, short? Both of them encouraged me to pursue her. I was hesitant, since I knew her to be far more materialistic than I was. She even told me, "I'm going to be rich, someday." Whereas, my heart was closer to the tradition of the world-renouncing, homeless brother monks.
But Stan and Mark were undaunted in their encouragement, even reminding me that I had a secret weapon at my disposal - the Gohonzon. That's a sacred scroll each member has enshrined in his home, at which he can direct his prayers. Which of course will come true. Oh, wait...that was old SGI doctrine. The current variation is: "Chant for your heart's desire. You'll either get it, get something better, or lose the desire for it - but not in a bitter, sour grapes kind of way."
After they left, I chanted about this and mulled over in my mind what I should do. I decided, as the expression goes, "to go for it."
Going for it
Marilyn would be returning from Europe in a few weeks, sometime in September. So I sent her an e-mail expressing my feelings for her. That might sound impersonal, and I have to admit it is. However, I had practical reasons for doing this: I wanted her to know how I felt and to mull it over while abroad. Also, I knew her to be difficult to approach one-on-one, simply because she seemed to always end up being swallowed up in the myriad activities that made up her personal life. Anyway, I'm a firm believer in putting one's cards on the table.
Marilyn did answer my e-mail about two weeks later, mostly expressing surprise. She didn't check her email every day since, as it turned out, she was caught up in the whirlwind of her boyfriend's road trip on the continent. Meanwhile, I made two decisions: I would chant two hours per day for a successful courtship and I would write her an on-going letter expressing my feelings. That letter ended up consisting of 500 handwritten pages of 8.5x11" paper. I had showed her this opus but never gave it to her, since she never asked for it. With one exception: On one occasion, I gave her about a dozen of its pages which she accepted but never responded to. As for the rest of it? After I moved away from Marilyn's house, about six years later I lived with another roommate who destroyed it.
At that time, I didn't care. And that particular roommate is someone who is still a good friend of mine to this day, although she now lives in another state. And, no, we were never romantically involved.
I maintained my two-hour chanting campaign every day without fail for five months - that is, only until realizing I had failed in my quest after moving out in January of 2003.
My courtship
When Marilyn returned, she didn't even acknowledge my feelings. In fact, during the next five months, we scarcely spoke at all. Part of that was due to a whole lot of drama that hit her all at once upon her return. She found out she was the victim of credit card fraud, which was traumatic since it was pretty obvious that two people we knew had committed this massive shopping spree. They didn't end up going to jail and, in fact, Marilyn never confronted them about this. She was just happy the credit card company voided the charges, so she didn't have to pay.
I was satisfied to let her come to me. She knew how I felt, and I didn't want to turn into this overbearing presence demanding answers. We lived in the same space and I wanted to give her as much space as possible, so I didn't go out of my way to force conversation. Yes, we still chanted together, since I was still a member of her district. But that was business - a noble calling we were both committed to.
Not long after her return, it turns out her millionaire boyfriend dumped her. She was devastated, and I told her I was sorry things turned out so badly. But I didn't make any overtures, except one. Weeks later, I invited her to see a movie with me - Amelie, starring Audrey Tautou. She accepted, but only after asking me if this was a date. Though I said "no," she must not have really believed me or didn't want to seem to encourage me, so she ended up canceling this outing. Too bad, it was a good movie. I saw it seven times while it played an extended run at Chicago's Landmark Century Theater multiplex.
To this day, I wonder if she ever got around to seeing this wonderful film.
Some time in November, 2002, I told Marilyn I would be moving out. We hadn't talked and I found that remaining there was too stressful for me. That's when she surprised me by saying, "If you move out now, you'll never have a chance with me." I asked, "Are you saying I have a chance?" And she answered "yes," but I knew deep down inside that was only part of the answer. The rest goes something like this: "The same chance as a snowball in hell."
At least I knew her motivation in saying I had a chance. She told me her financing for this house was precarious and she needed the rent money I was paying. I guess she felt she might not be able to get another roommate as rent-reliable as I was. After that exchange, we went back to our former status of barely talking. Looking back, I found her speechlessness surprising. She was involved in a co-counseling movement known as Reevaluation Counseling. And the purpose of that was to learn how to express your feelings and not be shy about doing so. I learned those lessons well enough myself, since I was also involved in RC at the time.
Toward the end of my courtship
In November of 2002, Kathy - who was chapter chief to both me and Marilyn - pulled me aside for a private chat. It's noteworthy to mention that Kathy's husband, Mark, never spoke to me about my efforts with Marilyn. And neither did Stan, though both of them had encouraged me during that fateful summer home visit to "go for it." I guess Mark and Kathy had a discussion about this and they decided she would be the one to speak to me.
I always liked Kathy, even though she was not the most sophisticated person I ever knew. She had grit, she had courage. She had confronted a gang banger, telling him in no uncertain words to stop trying to recruit her high school-aged son into a gang. I felt her faith was sincere, though it didn't involve asking any questions except - "What does the SGI leadership want me to do next?"
She asked me what my prayer was, and I said, "If I can't win Marilyn over, then I will devote all of my efforts to attaining Buddhahood." I was put off when she called that "a wimpy prayer." But I was only facing a rapidly dawning realization - that my efforts with Marilyn had all but completely failed. I wonder, though, what Kathy would have said if I had asked, "And what do you think a more appropriate, less wimpy prayer would be?"
It wasn't long after that, that I contacted a roommate referral service and moved out after finding a young banker working on his master's degree who needed a roommate. Steve turned out to be a pretty good match. Nice guy, but I hated how he beat me so easily in chess. So I ended up getting him a job teaching chess at the same summer school I'd taught in for over five summers. Steve taught the advanced class and I taught the beginners - all from eight to twelve years of age.
Aftermath
As fate would have it, I saw Marilyn only two more times over the following years. I stopped going to her district meetings, finding that too bitter a pill to swallow. The first time I saw her was at a party of SGI members, at which I avoided her like the plague. The second time: Within the last four years, she visited me in my office at Northeastern Illinois University at which she was a student. She appeared at my door, where I was the public face of the Media Services Department. And you know what? I didn't even recognize her. She was all peppy and cheerful in her demeanor but, as God is my witness, I didn't know who she was. When she asked, "Don't I get a hug?," I almost said, "Am I supposed to know who you are?"
She could tell I was clueless. Well, I gave her that hug after fumbling with an excuse, "You changed your hair." I had known her with straight, shoulder-length hair, though now it was in short, tight curls. I had seen an old photo of her in exactly the same hairstyle at her ex-husband's home, and I remembered thinking it wasn't a style I found attractive on her.
After our brief hug, she left - obviously downcast that I didn't even recognize her. But in my defense, she was the last person I ever expected would go out of her way to see me in my out-of-the-way office. And, truth be told, visual cognition isn't my strong suit. When my son was eight-years-old, I didn't recognize him either - since he was in costume and wearing his blond hair slicked back and dyed black. That was for a school play he was in. His face wasn't covered though and he was talking to me. But I thought he was just another kid at the school - one of many in a crowd - who knew me as a chess coach. It took me about half a minute to figure out who he was.
No, I'm not especially proud of this disability of mine. But I almost felt like telling Marilyn about this episode with my son and saying, "So I hope you don't feel too badly about this." But I let well enough alone and didn't end up chasing her down the hall to explain myself. Sometimes it's better just to cut one's losses and move on.
I found out, within a few years of leaving Marilyn's household, that she ended up marrying one of the roommates who lived there when I did, a guy named Mike. In fact, I had written about him briefly in my letter to Marilyn. I couldn't help but notice that they seemed very well suited for each other. He could make her laugh. He was also a better chess player than I was, and I also got him a job teaching chess in the summer of 2003. He and Steve both taught advanced classes. I felt good about that, since I felt deep down inside that he was a good man. Apparently, Marilyn thought so too.
Good for them both. Out of idle curiosity, I sometimes wonder if Marilyn struck it rich like she always dreamed. I also wonder how her Buddhist practice is going. For years, after moving out of her house, I couldn't stop thinking about her. But now I scarcely think of her at all. It's so true - time does heal all wounds. After all is said and done, I'm glad our lives intersected. Marilyn taught me a lot - especially about myself. She had a good, quick, unconventional mind and could be quite bold and committed when undertaking any activity near and dear to her heart. I'll always wish her well.
In closing
There is much I haven't shared here, but I think I got the most important parts. I had several motives in writing about this, but one in particular bears mentioning. When the SGI Chicago-area Director, Ethan Gelbaum, was digging into my background in the summer of 2013 - in the process of banning me from ever entering the SGI community center again - I'm sure my interaction with Marilyn came up. I'm also sure that SGI leaders and members were all too willing to give their version of what transpired. Which is sad, since none of them - not a single one (except Kathy) - ever bothered to speak to me about this. I just want to assure that my side of the story has a chance to be known.
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Steven Searle, just another member of the Virtual Sangha of the Lotus, and
former candidate for US President (in 2008 & 2012)
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