For a long time no rain had fallen on the village. The streams had disappeared, even the riverbed was dry. The last of the grain of the public store had been distributed, and this year’s crops, no longer able to stand, drooped towards the cracked earth. Once more the Chinese villagers prayed to the local deities, and once more they performed their customary rituals and sacrifices. but still no rain fell. And none seemed likely. The sun did not appear eager to relinquish its power over the earth and allow the arrival of moist, life-bringing clouds.

In despair the villagers decided to send someone ask the renowned Rainmaker to come to their village. Since he lived many days’ journey away, the villagers had plenty of time to discuss how to welcome and honour their exhaled guest, should the chose to come. They gathered together what few treasured possessions and remnants of food still remained.

But when, at last, the Rainmaker arrived, he refused everythin. He wanted neither food nor treasures, nothing except a quiet cave in which to be in solitude. Somewhat perplexe, but eager to grant his wishes, however menial, the villagers led the Rainmaker to a small cave at the edge of the village and left him there.

For three days no sound came from the cave, and no one saw the strange guest. The people began to worrying whisper among themselve. But in the evening the third day, the Rainmaker emerged. Ss he walked toward the anxious and expectant villagers, dark clouds began to gather and obscure the sun, a gentle breeze moved over the land, and it rained.

The amazed villagers asked he Rainmaker what he had done to make the rain come.

‘I withdrew into my soul’ He replied ‘I allowed my Self to be and I waited’.

A Chinese tale, most commonly told by Carl Jung, paraphrased by Susie Congrave