Chapter 27
“You are the center. You are the center that holds them in place. But you must return now to your own center.”
He was sitting on the edge of my couch when I awoke, a simple yet striking figure in a white robe and a long black-and-white beard that mirrored his hair, which was swept back from his high forehead. The philosopher Calanus—his Indian name was Sphines—smiled at me with an ironic detachment and yet an amused affection, as if he had known me my whole life, which in a way he had.
“You are their center, but in order for you to lead your men, you must lead yourself, back to your core, your heart.”
“My heart?” I snorted. “My heart leads me forward. My men tell me to go back. Where is the center in that ever-shifting gulf? And how is such a gulf to be measured and breached
