Once, at the time of Shakyamuni, a group of seven women was walking through a graveyard. Coming upon a fresh corpse, one of them pointed to it and said: “Here is a man’s body. Where has he gone?”
Another answered: “What . . . ”
Hearing this, the women all realized the truth that she spoke and were instantly enlightened.
Taishaku, Lord of the Devas, was moved by this to shower a rain of flowers down upon them.
“Tell me,” he said to them, “if there is anything that any of you holy ladies desires. I will see to it that you have it as long as you live.”
Take a good hard look at this story. If people today are right in paying no attention to it, the realization these ladies attained long ago must have been mistaken. But why would the Lord of the Devas have spoken to them as he did if they had not attained realization?
In response to Taishaku’s offer, one of the women said: “All of us have the four basic necessities of life. We have the seven rare treasures as well. There are, however, three things we would like. A tree without roots. A piece of land where there is neither light nor shade. Some corner of a mountain valley where a shout does not echo.”
“Anything else, ladies,” replied Taishaku, “and I will gladly provide it to you. But the things you ask for … to tell the truth, I just don’t have them to give you.”
“If you don’t have them,” said the women, “how can you possibly expect to help others liberate themselves?”
Taishaku found himself at a loss for words. He decided to confer with the Buddha.
Do you see what that wise young girl says! “If you can’t give us such things, how do you expect to save others?” Compare that with the fellows today who quake with fear when they encounter a few touches of poison. How infinitely superior she is — the difference between a crown and an old shoe is not nearly so great.
— Hakuin
BEATING THE POISONED DRUM 