“Who do you believe the least important person is in your universe, why?”

“The wheel spins, the weave is woven, time turns the clock hands, people grow and change, possibilities appear, disappear, only to reappear again. Life is an eternal cycle. We circle around people who are in their own disarray while we navigate our own,” the Shaman finished his little philosophical speech by standing and spreading another handful of red dust into the air above the fire causing a glittering of fairy sparks to spread through the air. They floated onwards, out the windows and chimney hole to float to their designated homes. He smiled as he watched them spread out and transform into his dream.

Sitting in awe at his feet, you and I learn. He whispers to each of hearts the mysteries that surround us. Filling us full of sweet knowledge, which tastes as sweet as honey dew, while biting with the strength of tart lemon. After picking us up from our awed state, he urges us to follow him along a distant sandy shore where the Pacific washes our feet, eating our footsteps as we pass along the beautiful shoreside.

Sitting with each of us together and alone, we converse about his question. Neither of us can answer. To say someone else is selfish, and if it can’t be someone else, it shouldn’t be us either. We ponder arguments for some, while our tongues explore possibilities that no one may match this criteria.

He softly handles us. Listening, dedicated to understanding our soul. Guiding us through our thoughts. Soft approaches and understanding reproaches he gives willingly. Holding back nothing from us. Enjoying the eagerness at which we pursue life.

Leaving us with the knowledge that each person fulfils an unique lead role in the world.

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