There was, once upon a time, a certain woman who, by study, skill and ever-deepening compassion for the suffering of those around her, had developed a great mastery of herbs and life. It was said that the only illness she could not cure was the ultimate call from beyond – and there were even rumours that she had drawn back more than one soul from that journey.

Having reached a certain age, and wishing to pass on her knowledge, she took a younger woman as her apprentice, and began to instruct her in her arts. Day after day, for long hours they studied various powders, mixtures and sirups, while the apprentice learned their uses, their effects, their limits and their dangers.

One day, the apprentice pointed to a large jar hidden away on a high shelf, and said, ‘Mother, what is that?’

‘A mixture you will probably never use,’ the woman replied. ‘I received that jar from my teacher, and I have used it once or twice, but it is almost never of any benefit.’

‘Is it not a good medicine? Then why keep it?’

‘It is a very effective medicine, but people take it once or twice and then abandon it. They cannot stand the effect.’

‘It must be very bitter,’ said the apprentice. ‘What is it for?’

‘The removal of obstacles from one’s path.’

The apprentice stared at her teacher, perplexed. ‘But Mother, surely everyone wishes that!’

The older woman nodded. ‘Everyone is confronted with obstacles – and wishes them to be swept away. But where is the first obstacle, the source of all the other obstacles? In themselves. And even with the help of this medicine, most people are not able to accept the cure.’