Thoughts on the Plane Home
(after Sentinel, Too)
by Leesa Perrie
Who am I now? A student, a police observer, an anthropologist; a wannabe hippie, a flower-child, a new age weirdo, a health conscious nut; a friend, a pain in the neck, a partner, a guide, a walking encyclopaedia; a help, a nuisance, a hindrance, an energizer bunny; an intelligent person, an open mind, a researcher, a dreamer, a naïve child, a grown man, a womaniser or table leg; a sensitive guy, a carer, an idiot, an adrenalin junkie, a spineless goober, a betrayer; a medicine man, witchdoctor punk……a shaman?
A shaman? Oh boy, what is that? Why, Incacha, why? Did you know what you were doing? Stupid, of course you knew. But I still don't get it – why me? I've read about shamanism, read even more in the months after your death, read everything I can find on it, so I guess I know all about it, don't I? So why do I feel like I know nothing? What am I missing? And who can teach me what isn't in the books or on the net? And does Jim need a shaman? Does Cascade? It needs a watchman, a Sentinel, and a Sentinel needs a guide – and a shaman? Maybe. But me?
Even now, months later, it scares the crap out of me. And I know that I have failed – I must have done. Jim didn't trust me, need me, and I didn't try to find out what was wrong, until it was too late. You guided him when he needed a shaman, Incacha. It should have been me. Why? Was I found lacking? Of course I was. But how do I do better? How can I avoid these mistakes?
Where do I go? Home? Where is home? With Jim? Where else would I go? After all the mess, the pain, the anger….I think, I hope, that he still needs me. But can I do it? Can I be what he needs? And what about me; my wants, my needs? Where is this leading us?
And why am I thinking so much? Perhaps I need to stop thinking and just do. But how do I do what I need to do, when I don't know what I need to do? And so the circle starts again, and I still don't know the answers. Maybe I never will.
Who am I now?
The End