Sechibuwa gives six examples of different types of contrariness to be avoided.

The first is contrary patience, where we have no patience for any type of discomfort or frustration that comes in the course of our dharma practice, but plenty of grit and forbearance for protecting our friends and putting down enemies.

The second example is contrary aspiration: not aspiring to purify the unwholesome imprints from our mind stream, or to collect merit, or to cultivate wisdom, or to transform the mind and heart, but instead aspiring for the so-called bounties of samsara, totally mundane pleasures that are fleeting and essentially unsatisfactory.

The third is contrary experience, where we seek a wide variety of experiences of a totally mundane nature, but do not seek deeper experience in the spiritual domain.

The fourth is contrary compassion, where we feel no sympathy for those who are dominated by the inner sources of suffering, but instead pity those who encounter hardships in their dharma practice. To put this in context, consider the case of a yogi who has lived in a cave above Dharamsala in northern India for years, practicing very earnestly and with perseverance. When he visited Massachusetts recently, he shared with us some of the experiences he had gone through. He mentioned that for six years in the mountains he had suffered one hardship after another. Hearing this we might be tempted to think, "This poor fellow, living on a bag of rice and beans all year, snowed into a cave for the winter with very poor clothing, and on top of all this, tormented by malignant spirits. If he could only enjoy life like us." But the yogi told us also that after six years he experienced a number of breakthroughs and, as a result, he is now in a continuous state of inexpressible well-being. He had meditated so deeply, he said, that there is virtually no distinction now between his meditation and his post-meditation period.

As long as there are so many beings in the world who are suffering and who, as Shantideva says, are chasing the sources of suffering while destroying the sources of their own happiness, then our compassion is misplaced when we pity a meditator who encounters difficulties while striving to rend the fabric of samsara. Rather let the compassion go to those beings who are not devoting themselves to effective means to fulfill their own aspirations.

The fifth example of contrariness is contrary concern: concerning ourselves not with dharma practice, but simply with the acquisition of wealth, the protection of loved ones, overcoming our enemies-the affairs of this life that are significant for a day or a year, but have utterly no significance beyond the context of this lifetime.

The final example of contrariness is contrary rejoicing. Instead of rejoicing in the wholesome deeds of other sentient beings, and the virtue of fully enlightened beings, we rejoice in the misfortune that comes to our enemies.

Excerpted from: A Passage from Solitude, by B. Alan Wallace. 1992 by Snow Lion Publications, Ithaca, New York 14851.