Satori

Of all the Zen literature that I have read (fruitlessly, I must admit, since I am no closer to enlightenment than I was when I started out) the following satori experience stands out (it's from D T Suzuki's classic):

[Kyogen] returned to Yisan and implored him to teach in the faith of Zen. But Yisan said: "I really have nothing to impart to you, and if I tried to do so you may have occasion to make me an object of ridicule later on. Besides, whatever I can instruct you is my own and will never be yours." Kyogen was disappointed and considered his senior disciple unkind. Finally he came to the decision to burn up all his notes and memorandums which were of no help to his spiritual welfare, and, retiring altogether from the world, to spend the rest of his life in solitude and simplicity in accordance with the Buddhist rules. He reasoned: "What is the use of studying Buddhism, so difficult to comprehend and too subtle to receive instructions from another? I shall be a plain homeless monk, troubled with no desire to master things too deep for thought." He left Yisan and built himself a hut near the tomb of Chu (Hui-chung), the National Master, at Nan-yang. One day he was weeding and sweeping the ground, and when a piece of rock brushed away struck a bamboo, the sound produced by the percussion unexpectedly elevated his mind to a state of satori.

The lesson here goes beyond enlightenment (important as that is). It talks of the dignity in admitting defeat and letting go, of giving up all pretences and ambitions, and yet doing the right thing, without expecting a reward. If a person has attained this level of spiritual maturity, satori is just a bonus for him IMHO.