There is always the feeling…always before the process begins.  He wants to avoid all of it…not just the person, but the space itself, the sights and sounds of it.  There is a sickness here…a sickness that exists everywhere…but in this place it is concentrated and he can feel the weight of it settling upon the entire area.  His own steps are heavy…his breathing labored.  This is nothing he wants to do…his mind screams, commandimg him to turn and flee in any other direction…but there is a different sort of resolve within him…an understanding, perhaps a conscious awarness, that there is, in fact, no other place he can be but here.  As he approaches the door, slowly and with measured steps, he acknowledges the door as yet another portal that will change him…yet again transform him…because each time he engages this process he takes something away from it that makes him different than he was prior.  There is always something left behind…it isn’t a clean process…but it is his method…and it is his gift of enduring that makes it possible.  This is the work of the sineater…a shamanic being that exists to bring balance…balance between the pain, fear and uncertainty caused by socially constructed realities and the awareness of what is real.  The sineater takes in all of it…the pain of unresolved wrongs, the fear of the loss of what is known and the uncertainty of moving forward into what is not known…he takes all of it and gives back a pure vision of possibility…possibility of a life lived free of this sickness.  This is the work of the sineater…and it always comes at a cost.