The Shaman

His composure had more than intelligence at its base. He was more than worldly, predominantly wise. His wisdom somewhat mystically tied into natural changes of the universe and to his people. However, since ages passed and elders of his calibre are gone, his wisdom had become sediment. 

Now a layer of repose had worn over his wisdom producing an insular layer of simplicity. His new persona, simplicity, had the potential to captivate those immediately around him, but not without consequences. The practical and worldly usurped wisdom’s place; at best we hear reminiscences. With him gone, who or what will serve as the blood of representation? 

This is more than ancestry. Who or what will represent, live out and thus pass on the life spirit of one’s “what-has-been.” This is bigger than each of us, and its humanity is oppressive to no individual. Tradition is so easy to say, and has various implications. This tradition does not serve through actions that abide with an open eye evaluating good or bad, but, serves one another through the outward transaction of openness. Yet, no tradition can continue, nor even be revised, when there is not a central core of people commonly living it among one another. A kind of communal unification, in spirit, language, in practice, interpersonal communication, a culture unto one another, surnames within the same proximity which have significance through their references to those among the larger group. 

What replaces Him, now that He is gone?In absence, our practicality and worldliness puts a personality, a writing, an insight, a question, an unknown, another truth. These are accompanied by their complements, a shadow, a music, a dull-witted remark, an answer, a belief. What is it that you seek? A friendly smile, a stained glass, a warm embrace, the piercing shrill of a symphonic grimace, the emphatic cry of a mother’s labor? Do our truths change our actions? Is it better to speak of beliefs: do our beliefs change lives? A shaman believes so.