The Function of Adversity

Human weaknesses, shortcomings, habits, flaws, afflictions, and various attachments are not all overcome through active self-improvement. Some are relinquished out of necessity when environmental conditions no longer permit them—this is what it means to encounter obstacles. When a thick wall appears ahead, signaling that the path is blocked and one must detour, turning or reversing direction becomes unavoidable. In this way, a weakness is overcome, a shortcoming vanishes, a habitual affliction disappears, and an attachment fades away.

Life's various dissatisfactions and adversities act like walls, preventing us from continuing along ingrained perceptions and habits. Thus, we choose another path, which often proves to be the better one. Therefore, adversity and setbacks are not enemies; walls are not enemies either. Instead, they serve as life's mentors, guiding us toward another path of light. For those heavily burdened by habits and afflictions, who cannot restrain themselves, encountering obstacles is beneficial—it creates opportunities for awakening and redirection. For those who commit unwholesome deeds, experiencing negative consequences immediately after acting would help them realize such actions must not be repeated, gradually curbing their harmful intentions. Deep reflection amid adversity, learning to redirect, and transforming thoughts and perceptions will hasten the arrival of a change in fortune.

If a person's life unfolds smoothly, they remain perpetually unchanged—entangled in afflictions, shrouded in ignorance and delusion, unaware and unafraid, trapped in an endless cycle of birth and death. Only by frequently encountering obstacles, finding old paths impassable, can one learn adaptability. Only then can entrenched attachments shift, allowing wisdom to arise. Thus, adversity is valuable, and walls are valuable too. At times, a good person may act as a villain, and a good deed may lead to harm; at other times, a villain may act as a benefactor, and harm may yield benefit. This must be viewed dialectically, focusing on outcomes—especially the ultimate results that unfold in the future.

When deep attachments bind you to all worldly phenomena, if all worldly phenomena could actively detach from you, leaving only the basic resources needed for survival to focus on spiritual practice—this would often be a most welcome outcome! Yet, at the moment of death, when all phenomena truly depart from you and vanish, why is it that no one’s manas seizes this opportunity to sever self-attachment and attachments? Why does no one perceive phenomena as impermanent and ungraspable? Under such circumstances, if others speak to you of the ālaya-vijñāna, could you attain enlightenment?