The Function of Adversity

Human weaknesses, shortcomings, habitual tendencies, flaws, afflictions, and various attachments are not all overcome through conscious effort. Some are relinquished only when circumstances become unfavorable, compelling change—like encountering an impenetrable wall that signals "no passage, please detour." Forced to turn or retreat, one overcomes a weakness, eliminates a shortcoming, dissolves a habitual affliction, or sheds an attachment.

Life’s myriad disappointments and adversities act like walls, preventing us from persisting along ingrained perceptions and habitual tendencies. Thus, we take a different path, often finding it superior in the end. Therefore, adversity and setbacks are not enemies; walls are not foes. They are life’s mentors, guiding us toward another, brighter path. For those heavily burdened by habitual afflictions who cannot restrain themselves, encountering more walls is beneficial. Only then does the opportunity for awakening and redirection arise. Those who commit unwholesome karma should face retribution immediately upon acting. This teaches them the unacceptability of such deeds, gradually causing them to refrain from evil thoughts. By deeply contemplating adversity, learning to redirect, and transforming thoughts and perceptions, the opportunity for a change in fortune swiftly approaches.

If a person’s life flows smoothly without obstruction, they remain perpetually as they were: troubled, afflicted, ignorant, fearless, endlessly revolving in the cycle of birth and death. Only by encountering many walls, finding old paths impassable, can one learn adaptability. Only then can ingrained attachments shift, allowing wisdom to arise. Thus, adversity is good; walls are good. At times, a good person may act as a villain, and a good deed may yield harm; at other times, a villain may serve as a benefactor, and a harmful act may bring benefit. This must be viewed dialectically, focusing on outcomes—especially the ultimate, long-term results.

When you are deeply entrenched in attachments and cannot detach from all worldly phenomena, if all worldly phenomena were to actively depart from you, leaving only the basic resources needed for survival to focus on spiritual practice, it would often be a most welcome occurrence! Yet, at the moment of death, when all phenomena indeed depart and vanish, no one’s mental faculty (manas) seizes this opportunity to sever the self-view or attachments. Nor is there any realization of the impermanence and ungraspable nature of phenomena. Why is this so? Under such circumstances, if someone tells you about the Eighth Consciousness (Alaya-vijnana), could you attain enlightenment?