Khurappa Jataka

Jataka No. 265 of the Pali Canon was told by the Buddha concerning a monk who had grown slack in his own practice, his early energy worn down until he could no longer summon the effort his training required. To recall him to what unflagging resolve actually looks like, the Buddha told the story of a forester who alone among an entire company refused to run.

In that former life the Bodhisatta led a company of five hundred foresters skilled in archery and tracking. Their work was to guide merchant caravans safely through the dangerous wilderness that separated the trading cities, a route known for the bandits who preyed on anyone who crossed it unescorted.

A merchant leading a long train of heavily laden carts hired the Bodhisatta and his company to escort the caravan through the most perilous stretch of the journey. He trusted that five hundred armed foresters would be more than enough to deter any robber band bold enough to attack.

Deep in the forest, a band of robbers burst from the trees with weapons raised. The sudden violence of the attack broke the courage of every guard in the company, and the entire escort of five hundred foresters fled into the undergrowth, abandoning the merchant's carts to whatever fate the robbers intended for them.

Only the Bodhisatta remained standing in the clearing, refusing to join the rout. He faced the robbers alone with the same composure he would have shown on any ordinary day's march, driving them off through sheer unwavering resolve where five hundred armed companions had already lost their nerve and run.

Once the robbers had been driven away and the caravan was safe, those who had witnessed his lone stand asked him plainly how he had found the courage to stay. Every other guard, armed just as well as he was, had chosen to flee for his life.

The Bodhisatta answered that whoever wishes to perform a truly heroic deed must first set aside the ordinary fear of losing his own life. It is precisely that fear, not any lack of weapons or skill, that turns five hundred armed men into five hundred men running from danger they were fully equipped to face. Courage, he explained, was never a matter of strength the others lacked, but of a fear they had not yet learned to set aside.

What made the Bodhisatta's stand so striking was not that he alone possessed some unique skill the other foresters lacked, since all five hundred had been trained for exactly this kind of danger. He alone had already resolved, before the attack ever came, that fear for his own life would not be the thing that decided his actions when the moment arrived.

Five hundred armed foresters should, by any ordinary reckoning, have been far safer than one man standing alone, yet it was the lone man who held his ground while the full company scattered, proving that numbers only protect those willing to use them. A company's courage is never simply the sum of the weapons it carries, and the same five hundred bows that fled the clearing could just as easily have driven the robbers off together, had fear not already made the decision for every hand that held one.

The Buddha closed the story by turning the comparison back onto the monk whose own energy had flagged. The same resolve that once let a single forester stand firm while five hundred of his own companions fled, he showed, was available to anyone willing to set aside fear. Whether the fear was of outward danger or of simple ongoing effort, it was what kept most people running from exactly the task they were already fully equipped to complete.