How Akiko Toya, of Odenton, Maryland, turned her anxiety into a career in risk management.
When I was in college, I would lie awake each morning chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo until I could feel enough hope to get out of bed. I would have regular panic attacks, which felt like I was drowning in cold water.
Some of this anxiety was connected to graduating soon and not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. A friend noticed I was having a difficult time and asked me if I had an idea of what I wanted to do in the future. When I responded that I didn’t, she reminded me that Buddhism is about overcoming any self-doubt. It’s about having the courage to dream big, beyond my imagination.
As I chanted with this in mind, my perspective shifted. I realized my anxiety about my future didn’t have to be my weakness. In fact, it had the potential to be of great value.
With my college graduation fast approaching in 2014, I read the annual peace proposal from my Buddhist teacher Daisaku Ikeda and came across this passage: “Building upon this foundation, ties of friendship and trust could be made even stronger through collaborative efforts to strengthen resilience, including disaster prevention and mitigation. Members of the younger generation should take the lead in this.”
I thought to myself: This could be my future career and path.
My friends used to always say to me, “Akiko if an earthquake hit, we would be safe with you because you’re so prepared.” The truth is, because of my anxiety, I would think of every possible outcome that could go wrong and take the necessary steps to alleviate my anxiety. I realized that in disaster risk management, I could use my anxiety as my strength.
After finishing graduate school in 2016, I was hired as a disaster risk management specialist at one of the largest multilateral development banks. I entered a field in which I frequently travel to unstable countries impacted by natural disasters.
As a disaster risk management specialist, my job is to provide security and comfort for those in times of fear and uncertainty. My Buddhist practice gives me deep confidence that I can do this.
The sound of our voices resolutely chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo reverberates throughout the entire universe, turning everything into a positive force that will support and protect us.
November 9, 2018, World Tribune, p. 3
Recent studies show that those who sing—or, in our case, chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo—are happier. While singing releases endorphins, associated with feelings of pleasure, singing in a group is said to release oxytocin, which enhances feelings of trust and well-being toward others, and alleviates anxiety and stress.
Sitting up straight and voicing something like a song or a chant can also improve lung and heart function, according to some medical professionals. Breathing from the abdomen seems to have a relaxing and calming effect, improves circulation and warms the extremities (see On Health and Long Life, pp. 15–16).
From the Buddhist perspective, sound and voice have great significance. When we chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, the act of voicing this wonderful sound fuses our lives with the universe.