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Monthly Archives: September 2018

The Cupiditas

30 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, management, psychology, Veritas

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Cupiditas, empathy, greed, myth, politics, power, treachery, truth, Veritas

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{Translator’s Note}: As has probably been obvious to the reader, translation into English from the legends of the Veritas is a non-trivial task; not only is the language different; so are the times, technology, and culture. Nonetheless, these difficulties pale compared with the next translation which mainly involves a different tribe, known to the Veritas as “The Cupiditas.” In what follows, I rely on several sources of scholarship as well as what the Veritas had to say about The Cupiditas. Where the difficulties become nearly unsurmountable, however, are those fragments of oral history passed along by The Cupiditas themselves. I won’t bother to recount all the difficulties, because doing so seems too much like whining. After all, I am well fed, living in a house with central air conditioning and heating and able to avail myself of modern technology. I do want to let, you, the reader, know how dubious these translations are however, not to gain your sympathy, but to alert you to numerous possible inaccuracies. 

First, the Veritas valued truth extremely highly and had developed numerous strategies to preserve the accuracy of their oral history. By contrast, the Cupiditas, as you will soon see, valued power, not truth. As a consequence, every time there was a regime change, those in power revised, re-interpreted, and redacted, insofar as possible, the oral history of the Cupiditas to make out “their side” to be the “good guys” and the powers most recently deposed to be the “bad guys.” 

Second, the difficulty in translating the myths of the Veritas often consists of finding expressions subtle enough in English to handle the many shades of gray that the Veritas routinely used in such matters as “causality” and “responsibility.” Native English speakers, for instance, see nothing problematic in statements such as: “Mary was sad and it was John’s fault.” Is this sadness temporary, permanent? Is it constant, cyclical? Is it really plausible that Mary’s sadness has zero to do with anything other than John? And, what does it mean to say it was John’s ‘fault’ exactly and solely? I may write such a sentence so that English speakers understand it given the current level of sophistication of our culture. The actual Veritas descriptions, however, are always much more nuanced. Causality is always characterized among the Veritas as a web of interconnections and never as a linear set of linkages. By contrast, there are very few subtleties in the language of the Cupiditas. They seldom attempt to use what we would call persuasion. People are arranged in a strict power hierarchy and whenever a person higher in this hierarchy states something as fact it is supposed to be obeyed, retold, and believed regardless of how absurd or wantonly cruel it might be. If, a few years later, violence leads to a repositioning of the power hierarchy, what was “true” before is now often “false” and now people were expected to obey, retell, and believe even the precise opposite of what they passionately believed weeks before. Since most adults among the Cupiditas had experienced several such “shifts” of what was “acceptable belief,” it seems as though either they had become incapable of knowing the “truth” or they had become too jaded to care.  

Third, as I mentioned, some of what follows is from what is certainly the much more accurate and less self-serving oral history of the Veritas. They were apparently even more mystified by the cultural choices of the Cupiditas than we are and that cast some doubt on how much the Veritas descriptions can be relied up. That the Cupiditas were less well off on almost every dimension is borne out by the archeological evidence. Yet, I remain suspicious that even the truth-seeking and empathic Veritas could ever be completely accurate in their recounting of what happened among the Cupiditas. 

Fourth, Chomsky notwithstanding, in many cases, the Cupiditas did not appear necessarily to speak or even think in complete sentences. Here, I am not referring to the kinds of ellipsis or implicit commands that occur in English. While eating at the table with you, I might lift up my bread, catch your eye and say, “Butter?” meaning, “Would you please pass the butter (so that I can butter my bread).” This is understood by people in our culture. Among the Cupiditas, however, for an underling to use such language with one of a higher status would be considered highly insulting. Instead, the lower status person would be expected to say something along the lines of: “Oh, excellent one! Would it please you to allow me to partake of the butter and thereby increase my great debt to you?” On the other hand, a person of higher rank might well merely speak the word, “Butter.” In this case, it might or might not be an implicit request to pass the butter. It was intentionally vague and ambiguous. Lesser ranked people would silently pass glances trying to guess upon whom the honor of passing the butter had been bestowed. If too long a time passed, the high ranking person might suddenly grab the butter and smash it against the wall or into the face of a nearby lackey. On the other hand, if someone passed the butter, the higher ranking person, might say, “NO! TELL me about butter, idiot!” In other words, the higher ranking person would be intentionally vague so that no matter what was said or done, the other person would be wrong. One of many Cupiditas leaders who reveled in this game was the one called, NUT-PI.  

Legends of the Cupiditas: NUT-PI’s Plan. 

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Although there were many changes and variations in the legends of the Cupiditas, on one thing these legends all seemed to agree. The rather barren and desolate lands that the Cupiditas lived on now were the result of treachery and trickery on the part of the Veritas. Indeed, nearly all of the many problems that beset the Cupiditas were blamed on the Veritas while only a few were blamed on more distant and somewhat less prosperous tribes. For their part, the Veritas were amazed that the Cupiditas survived at all, given their insistence on warping and even denying the truth. The Veritas had learned long before even their most distant legends not to over-fish, over-hunt, or over-harvest in an area and thus destroy the very things that brought sustenance to the tribe. Moreover, when the Veritas built or hunted or gathered, they were always trying to try out new ways and to improve on how they did things. Usually, new ideas did not improve things but occasionally new ideas were an improvement and these were kept. While the Veritas worked and silence was not demanded by the character of the enterprise (e.g., stalking shy creatures), they talked or sang or chanted. By contrast, the Cupiditas tribe did the tasks of their tribe under the constant harassment and belittling of those in charge and new ideas were generally dismissed out of hand even on the rare occasions when they were brought up at all. This is not to say that innovation was absent in the Cupiditas. Apparently, NUT-PI himself rose to power by inventing a new way of killing. Rather than oust his opponents with spear or club, he poisoned them. He often killed them without their even knowing that he was vying for power over them. In this way, he quickly became the most feared among the Cupiditas. According to NUT-PI, those who opposed him angered the gods and those gods therefore destroyed his enemies, invariably striking them with “mysterious illnesses” causing them to go blind while their tongues turned black and their limbs grew ever more weary till at last they fell upon the ground writhing in pain and soon expired.  

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Previous leaders of the Cupiditas had risen to power through a combination of physical strength and guile. As they grew older, their physical strength began to wane slightly and the younger from among the Cupiditas vied among themselves for power and position until one felt strong enough and skilled enough to challenge the current leader.

Sometimes, the challenger would become the new leader and sometimes they would be killed outright or at least maimed to the point of no longer posing a threat. To the Veritas, such a procedure for choosing a new leader seemed preposterous! The chosen leader of the Cupiditas, always a man, could compel any woman among the Cupiditas to mate with him. Initially, this custom seemed to increase the average strength among the Cupiditas. However, the resulting inbreeding inevitably led to numerous health issues among the tribe. NUT-PI did not particularly enjoy physical combat and instead spent many of his days alone capturing small animals and discovering which plant tisanes had the most profound effect. At one point, he challenged the Cupiditas leader to mortal combat with spears. NUT-PI covered the spearhead of his weapons with an extract of hellebore mixed with datura. 

As was customary, in the rough-hewn stone arena before the “contest” began, NUT-PI offered two identical spears to the leader. As the leader reached for the first one, NUT-PI deftly slashed the hand of the old leader, CHOFM. It was not a deep cut, but sufficient poison leached into his bloodstream to cause weakness, confusion, and partial paralysis. A few quick thrusts and NUT-PI fatally wounded CHOFM. Despite his older age, CHOFM was much stronger, quicker, and more skillful than NUT-PI and would have easily won a “fair fight” with any sort of weapon. The tribe of Cupiditas, however, immediately hailed the new leader, as was their custom. 

{Translator’s Note}: The events described above are one of those many places where the worldview of the Veritas differs significantly from that of the Cupiditas. The legends of the Cupiditas do not distinguish between a contest won by treachery and a contest won by skill or good luck or superior strength. The Cupiditas already had a long tradition of pledging instant allegiance to whoever is the leader without any regard to how they got there. 

After many moons, NUT-PI proved himself to be a ruthless leader, even by comparison to other leaders of the Cupiditas. In order to keep the peace among the tribe, since he offered nothing in the way of true leadership, he roused the Cupiditas to a fever pitch of hatred for all that they had {supposedly] lost to the Veritas. 

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The next year, the winter seemed to last into spring and then into early summer. Hunting proved sparse and NUT-PI feared that the anger he had aroused might morph so as to be directed at him. Indeed, he rightly thought that fighting the far-away Veritas might seem to the people of the Cupiditas to be much more difficult than challenging and replacing their own leader. Also, the Veritas were known by all to be both more numerous and more prosperous than the Cupiditas. An all-out war against the Veritas would have been madness and although they spoke of it publicly as though it would be an easy victory, each of the Cupiditas secretly knew such a war would be hopeless. For his part, NUT-PI kept a close watch for any signs of a youth who might grow strong and skillful enough to challenge his power. He planned to poison any such youth before he became strong enough and confident enough to issue the challenge.

Such a challenge as was awaited by NUT-PI did not come. Instead, after the long, cold winter, the mandatory morning adoration songs for the leader of the Cupiditas were interrupted by two such ones as were not expected at all. By their garb, they were known to be of the Veritas. The Cupiditas thought it both stupid and brave for two such ones to walk right into the camp of the Cupiditas. Of course, the Veritas, while knowing that their customs were quite different from those of the Cupiditas, had no inkling of how heavily reviled they had been by NUT-PI. So, those two from the Veritas did not suspect that approaching the Cupiditas would be particularly dangerous. 

As they walked deeper into the Cupiditas camp, POND MUD and ALT-R found themselves surrounded by more and more of the Cupiditas. Though ALT-R had grown ever more clever at reading and manipulating people, he mainly did so through his words. He was not well versed at all in the language of the Cupiditas and his palms grew sweaty and the throng of people swelled in numbers. Even the much stronger POND MUD though slow and brash well understood that he and his friend were no match for the strength of the entire Cupiditas people. While ALT-R understood only a little of the language of the Cupiditas, he and even POND MUD could tell that the people surrounding them were being derisive and threatening. At last, the tension became overwhelming as many of the Cupiditas hunters jabbed their spears threateningly at the two. So, ALT-R forced himself to speak in a loud, confident voice, supplementing his words with gestures that were common to all the tribes. 

“Oh, great and wondrous people of the Cupiditas, we bring great news to you and wish to speak with your great and legendary leader, CHOFM!” Though fearful, ALT-R made his voice ring loud and clear in the crisp morning air. 

His words brought a much more sudden change in mood than ALT-R expected. Several braves ran off from the group to inform their leader who was lounging in his large, private cabin. The crowd as a whole began chattering angrily among themselves and became even more threatening to the pair. 

ALT-R tried to understand what was going on and wished to choose his next words so as not to further darken the mood of the crowd. He gestured expansively to indicate the whole village. “You of the Cupiditas are a marvelous and strong people. I see many strong people among you. I see many cabins. I see many tents. I see that you are a prosperous and strong people.” The Cupiditas were feeling anything but prosperous and many took the words of ALT-R as sarcasm since they “knew” the Veritas were far more prosperous. ALT-R knew his flattery was not working well but had no idea why. He hated his lack of fluency in the tongue of the Cupiditas and struggled for something else to say by way of flattery. As he scanned the village for inspiration, he saw someone emerge from the largest cabin. This someone was dressed in finer garb than the other Cupiditas and was surrounded by several servile sycophants. 

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ALT-R stared at the man and bit his lower lip. He wondered whether this was the leader of the Cupiditas, for he, like the other Veritas, had always heard that CHOFM was a rather large, older, well-muscled man. But this did not well describe the obvious leader who emerged from the cabin. Perhaps he was ill. That would explain his diminished stature as well as the fawning attitude of those around him. Among the Veritas, such fawning behavior never occurred even for She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives but only signaled someone in a temporary state of great need. Still confused, ALT-R cursed himself for not having chosen a smart, knowledgeable friend who could help him rather than one he could easily manipulate. 

NUT-PI spoke. “I am NUT-PI, the King of the Cupiditas. I am not CHOFM. I vanquished that old man before the last fall harvest, oh, ill-informed one of the Veritas. What gifts did you bring me?” 

ALT-R wished that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were here to advise him. Immediately, he pushed this thought from his mind. He hated the leader of the Veritas, who had overlooked him as the next leader and furthermore banished him from the tribe – a rare and terrible punishment. But it did remind him of the Rings of Empathy that he possessed. 

“I am he who is called ALT-R and I bring you, oh, great leader of the Cupiditas, these wondrous and magical rings imbued with special powers by the shaman of the Veritas. My companion also brings his rings as gifts. Though these are magical and wondrous, they are but tokens of our esteem. Our real gift is the gift of knowledge. We have come to show you how to conquer the Veritas, not through superior computations [sic] but through knowledge. We are of the Veritas and know the Veritas. We know where their lookouts are; we know their habits; we know their weapons; we know their strengths and weaknesses. We can show you how to defeat the Veritas. All I need is your word to make me small King of the Veritas to your large King of all in these lands. And, my friend POND MUD, of course. Also to rule under you.”

NUT-PI said flatly, “Show me these rings.” 

ALT-R eagerly fished out his rings and nudged POND MUD to do the same, which he did grudgingly. ALT-R knelt before NUT-PI and offered up his rings. He quietly backed away, head still lowered. He whispered for POND MUD to do the same. And so it was done. 

NUT-PI considered the rings, turning them over in his hand and letting the morning sun play upon them. They were indeed beautiful and well-made, but he was quite skeptical of magic. He had his own “magic” after all, consisting of the poisons he used to keep his power. The Cupiditas may think he was magic but he knew what the real secrets of his success were: poison and ruthlessness. We will see whether your knowledge of the Veritas is sufficient to save your lives. Come!” He turned and walked back toward his cabin, gestured for them to follow and snapped his fingers at his body guards. 

Inside the cabin, NUT-PI seated himself upon an ornately carved wooden chair raised several feet off the floor on a dais. POND MUD and ALT-R were forced to kneel on gravel before him while a score of well-muscled guards pointed their spears at the head, throat, and chest of the two from among the Veritas.  

NUT-PI looked at the two disdainfully. “Speak! Be quick! What do you know of how to defeat the Veritas!” 

ALT-R now found himself having to speak plainly in a foreign tongue about complex things. He was ordered to do so quickly and he was already feeling pain in his knees. Yet, if he spoke in too little detail, he would be dismissed as a fraud. On the other hand, if he spoke in too much detail, he knew that he had no guarantee that the Cupiditas would not kill them both and use the knowledge anyway. He stared at the gravel wondering whether it would ease his pain or worsen it if he tried to shift his position just a little.

NUT-PI enjoyed his obvious discomfort and played the rings in his hand while he started at the two. “WELL?! Do not think to waste my time!” he barked. 

ALT-R decided to reveal the scope of his knowledge first and then delve into ever more detail, vowing to ignore the pain until he could read that NUT-PI was sufficiently impressed. He would also make it clear that it would be necessary for him to accompany the Cupiditas in their raid in person. Thus, he began to reveal the general habits of the Veritas such as the fact that guards were not always positioned in the same place. At the full moon and the empty moon, these posts rotated among over a hundred vantage points that were chosen in some unknown way by She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. ALT-R knew where the guards were now so he could sneak back into the lands of the Veritas and discover their new hiding places when the moon showed no light. For the guards took no pains to cover their trails from the campsites to their guard posts. Each guard also had a small drum for raising an alarm. It would be critical to sneak behind the guards from the direction of the Veritas, once the new positions were known. It must be done very quietly and with camouflage under cover of rain if possible. Each such post must be taken quickly, the drums destroyed, and the guards murdered. It would not be necessary to kill all the guards initially. The Cupiditas only needed to murder those on the side of the deep forest that bordered the lands of the Veritas. 

ALT-R had never known such pain and yet, he kept reminding himself that he needed to convince NUT-PI of the depth and importance of his knowledge. He also painted a picture of beautiful women to be raped, full storehouses to be ransacked, and many fine artifacts that could be stolen. While it would be possible to annihilate the Veritas outright, it would be far more profitable to take them as slaves, he explained. He and POND MUD could be excellent at being the slave drivers for they spoke the language of the Veritas and knew their customs. They would be well positioned to foresee any uprising or rebellion and destroy any such tree of rebellion while still a seedling. “But of course, that choice remains with you, oh Great One,” said ALT-R fawningly. ALT-R had told a different story to POND MUD and promised him he could have any woman of the Veritas or the Cupiditas once they had become co-leaders of both lands and villages. Dull as POND MUD sometimes was, ALT-R hoped he would have the sense not to interrupt or reveal this now. He had made it as clear as he could to POND MUD to volunteer nothing. 

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At last, NUT-PI grew weary of listening for it was hard work to understand the twisted tongue of ALT-R and besides that, NUT-PI’s stomach growled for among all the Cupiditas he was the last to have a morning meal. So, he put an end to the interview, at least for now. 

“Enough! I will think on this and announce my decision on the morrow. Guards, take these two, denude them, bind them hand and foot in the center of the village upside down so my people may look upon the Veritas and realize they are nothing special and can indeed by conquered. When you have bound them securely, come back here that we may plan our invasion with or without their help. Perhaps they will be of future use as well. Or perhaps we will feed them to the wolves. Or, perhaps we will learn how they are made inside. Arise now and go! After you have secured them, warn the villagers not to kill them before I give the command, though if they wish to hurt them a little or humiliate them, to enjoy themselves. Stress, however, that they are not to kill these two until I give the word. GO!” 

ALT-R tried to stand and found himself struggling like an oldster. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, he thought, could have come to her feet more gracefully. 

So, it was that ALT-R and POND MUD found themselves in the middle of the camp of the Cupiditas, strapped to large logs, hog-tied and upside down, subject to the taunts and worse of the villagers through the long day and the longer night without benefit of food or drink or privacy. 

Even a dictator needs confidantes and so it was with NUT-PI. Now, these were with NUT-PI to plan. While the Veritas had very detailed maps of the entire area, those of the Cupiditas were far less accurate. Nonetheless, they knew the location of the thick forest that protected one side of the lands of the Veritas. They planned their attack as well as the training and selection of the warriors. One of NUT-PI’s captains obliquely brought up the question of who would be the best slave driver of the remaining Veritas. 

NUT-PI laughed and said earnestly, “Do you think me a fool, INGO RICHES? You can never trust a Veritas. And you can never ever trust a traitor. They are both! Of course, I will choose one of you to be slave-driver of the remnants of the Veritas. These two will both be killed once Victory is assured. Till then, they can serve as useful tools. They will then be killed as slowly and painfully as possible in the middle of the main camp of the Veritas to illustrate to the Veritas what happens to any who defy me. That will be their final gift to me. I will decide later who will have the Veritas to run as they wish, but do not worry, INGO RICHES, you are among the candidates. We must first put all our thought into winning this war for the Veritas are not an easy foe. They are wily and well-trained. We will use these two, but let them grow more humility as they contemplate their possible fates while hungry, thirsty, fearful and humiliated. Besides, I want to know why they came here. So far, this one who calls himself ALT-R had not really answered that question completely. But he will in the morning. Or the next morning. Or the next. Eventually, I will discover the truth. And this I promise you and all the people of the Cupiditas – we will conquer the Veritas and rule the world.”

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Myths of the Veritas: The Sixth Ring of Empathy

20 Thursday Sep 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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emotional intelligence, empathy, evaluation, myth, politics, testing, truth, Veritas

Myths of the Veritas: The Sixth Ring of Empathy. 

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The Four, as they were now called by the tribe, despite being rivals, achieved a high degree of esprit de corps. Partly, as they had discussed among themselves, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives was, from their point of view, completely unpredictable in her tasks. Furthermore, all of them understood that the slightest hint of cheating, bad-mouthing, or even approaching the boundary of good taste might well be precisely that it would likely be the end of their candidacy. While the candidates were being tested primarily on empathy, it was well understood by the entire tribe that it was absolutely critical that the leader of the tribe must adhere to the very highest standards of ethical behavior. Why on earth would a tribe choose a leader of low moral fiber only to set a horrible example for the whole people? For these reasons and because, apart from any thought to consequences, winning at all costs, including dishonor, was simply not a way any of them wanted to live their lives. 

Many moons passed and still She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had not called them together to explain the trial of the Sixth Ring of Empathy. So far, it was a complete mystery. As could be expected, The Four speculated a great deal among themselves, but they realized they were merely wild guesses. The talked, and debated, and dialogued quite a lot about empathy, but they were in the dark as to the actual tasks they would next be judged on. 

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The Shaman, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, for her part, walked here and there throughout the people; helping with what needed to be done; advising mainly by answering question with question; always generating warmth and wisdom by her example. Her being there, each knew in their hearts, was a great gift for all the people and they esteemed her and loved her greatly. Of course, they accepted that her seeking a successor was just another example of the great wheel of life moving around. Yet, it still saddened them to see her gone so they were in no way discomfited to see that the long time before the sixth trial even began stretched on and on. 

Unbeknownst to either the tribe as a whole or The Four, the “trial” for the Sixth Ring of Empathy had begun the instant that The Four had been chosen and walked silently back to their tents. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives knew quite well that everyone, including The Four, did not realize this. And she also knew that each of The Four was spending at least part of their time wisely, becoming better friends with each other and with the nuances of empathy through their mutual explorations and discussions. The Shaman planned to end the “trial” when she had enough evidence for her to decide on who precisely would continue to the seventh and final trial. 

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The Shaman had been observing many things over the past many moons. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had been watching how The Four interacted with each other. Who listened well? Who spoke well? Who thought of things no-one else did? Who had a good heart? Who sought the truth and had the good of all at heart? 

She listened to how everyone in the tribe spoke of everyone else, including The Four. She knew how to moderate words heard to the likely underlying truth because she understood the blind spots of everyone in the tribe. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had watched the reactions of everyone in the tribe as one or the other from among The Four came near. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives sought out many conversations with those of the tribe. She would talk of acorns, for example, and then remark on how Eagle Eyes had studied how acorns fell because she had been interested in shapes. This was not the story that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives was interested in. The Shaman wanted to see the story written in the face and eyes of the person receiving the story. 

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{Translator’s Note}: At this point in the narrative, there are several more techniques that the Shaman used but those descriptions are filled with “technical terms” of the Veritas and, so far, no-one has much idea at all what, precisely, the Shaman actually did. It seems as though the Shaman is sensing how animals react to the candidates? But that makes no sense. And, it seems as though she is “reading” their faces and body language and, even, tuning into their auras? souls? voices? thoughts? responses? hearts? And, there is a passage that — well — I know it’s crazy, but she watches how music vibrates through these candidates? Or, how they resonate with various vibrations? None of the few remaining on this planet who claim to know anything about Veritas claims to have any knowledge of these arcane and possibly archaic arts. The oddest part is that the whole time I was trying to make sense of it, what came to mind were scenes involving the high-tech scanning from Star Trek! 

Although much of the Shaman’s focus was on the most important task of her life; viz., choosing her successor, she also took note of the Friendship of POND MUD and ALT-R. She had hoped they could learn from each other, but she feared that this friendship had taken a turn toward the way of Not-Life where truth is sacrificed as easily as one pulls off an ant’s leg. There were now simply too many reeds of evidence — more than enough to make a basket — that POND MUD and ALT-R were not going to be re-entered into the seeking of the Rings of Empathy. The Shaman knew that they had agreed to disrupt the trial. Fortunately, their planning was still quite vague because, like the rest of the Village, the two of them had no idea that the trial was underway. ALT-R, however, was discovered to be perpetuating one scheme on his own: to sow the seeds of jealousy among The Four and also between POND MUD and Shade Walker. This could help him “control” POND MUD and could well disrupt the entire trial so that the chances of POND MUD and ALT-R regaining a chance at the Rings of Empathy would be increased.  

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Though very bright, ALT-R was not among those of ever-alert eyes and ears. When he began calculating a plot, he had a tendency to pace while speaking aloud. In such a state, his cleverness peaked. However, in such a state, he could fail to notice such a noiselessly slow-moving person as She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. The Shaman was shocked. There had been hot-tempered people among the Veritas and those who were occasionally less than truthful when describing their romantic involvements to others. But the Shaman was now observing what certainly appeared to be an actually evil person who was going to subvert the process of succession in order to grab power for himself. He did not see or did not care what such a grabbing of power would do to the tribe, to the people, to the earth. 

The Shaman shuffled away as silently as she had come. Perhaps, the time had come for both POND MUD and ALT-R to be banished from the tribe before more evil spread. At this point, She -Who-Saves-Many-Lives happened upon a very perplexed looking young woman: She-of-Many-Paths. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives stood still, held out her arms before her, hands up, smiled at the youth, and said, “Good Day. Or should I say, ‘Good Day?’ What seems to be the trouble?” 

She-of-Many-Paths answered: “It’s nothing. It’s just. Shade Walker and POND MUD seemed to be about to fight over me. And I’m not. I don’t like POND MUD at all. I mean, not that way. But I do like Shade Walker. But Trunk of Tree is beautiful and large too. I just — but they can’t fight for me. I will choose who I want and what did you mean about our children pulling us together? Anyway, it’s really nothing and it’s — you know — just silly stuff among boys and girls, nothing that you’d…I mean that you’d be interested in.”

There was warm humor in the eyes of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives as she answered. “It’s all right, She-of-Many-Paths, I know you were about to say that I wouldn’t know anything about young love because now I’m an old woman, in fact, a very old woman. Of course, you are quite right. I was never myself a baby or a toddler or a young girl or a very confused adolescent. I fell fully hatched out of a very old and very craggy willow. That’s why my skin is so wrinkled. The bark against my skin all those years before I finally fell out full-grown and blotches as you see me now. So, I would no nothing of the catching of the breath and the full-throttled beating of the heart nor the feeling of melting and the burning skin. But if I had been born a baby and lived a full life, I would tell you one thing and that would be that you may live through all that and some day be lucky enough to be an old lady such as I. But meanwhile, come here. Take my hands. Look into my heart and see what you see in my past. 

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She-of-Many-Paths walked slowly forward to take the hands of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. As she stepped forward, her embarrassment subsided. Of course, everyone is part of the wheel of life, she thought. She imagined She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives as a youth. And then — there she was! She could see her plainly with long black hair and strong limbs. She was taller and her skin was smooth. And, she was in love. And again. And love was like the love that is the very foundation of life and love is terrifying and wonderful and much better than okay. It is Life. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives grew out of such a love and her parents as well and her grandparents and She-of-Many-Paths felt now quite well-named and terrified at the same time! For she was traveling out in many paths backwards in time, floating through an endless tunnel so it seemed slowly like a maple seed twirling slowly. She-of-Many-Paths could see/feel/hear backwards in time to the first Veritas and beyond to the first humans and beyond and it became almost unbearable because she was no longer She-of-Many-Paths with human eyes and brain at all. She was something else. Animal. Smell. Fear. Eat. Mate. Mate. Mate. Of course she wanted to mate! Now, She-of-Many-Paths staggered backwards, letting go of the Shaman’s hands. 

The Shaman spoke to reassure, “I see that you found the way to truly touch the tree of life through the heart of another.”

She-of-Many-Paths stammered, “What…what was that?! I could see, feel, what it was like to be you and … and before you… and it all started slow but then got fast and I was not even me.”

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The Shaman spoke again, “You learned to tie your empathy to your imagination in a feedback loop. It feels a bit overwhelming at first, but it is a useful tool.” 

{Translator’s Note}: There is a thicker description in the original and, though I know it sounds crazy, the most accurate translation I could come up with is a Superheterodyne receiver.

“Overwhelming,” exclaimed She-of-Many-Paths, “indeed. But, did you actually look like that? Or, is it just how I pictured it?” 

“Most likely some combination of those and also how I pictured myself.” 

“Do you experience this? Do you … travel, see,” She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. You will get better at it with practice though you may decide not to learn to use it.” 

Shade Walker appeared around a bend and began walking toward them. She-of-Many-Paths looked about as though for an escape route, but it was too late. 

The Shaman was the first to speak. “How does it go with you, Shade Walker? How are you and POND MUD getting on these days?”

“Well, actually…” Shade Walker’s eyes darted to those of She-of-Many-Paths. “He seems to want to fight me. Well, over She-of-Many-Paths. I am not afraid to fight him. But She-of-Many-Paths should choose who she wants. What does it mean to fight over her? Also, there’s something else, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. I don’t sense that he actually wants to. You well know that I have continued to study the way snakes can feel/see the heat of their prey. And, I sense all the heat coming, not from POND MUD himself but from ALT-R. But I don’t really think ALT-R wants…I don’t know what he wants. It just doesn’t feel right somehow.”  

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“No, you’re quite right,” said the Shaman. “It isn’t right. I’m afraid something must be done but I am not quite ready to do it. Meanwhile, I need to find Trunk-of-Tree and Eagle-Eyes. Any idea where they might be, Shadow Walker?”

“She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, I believe Eagle Eyes went to watch Fleet-of-Foot run. She wants to draw the way he runs. She’s talking about his form. It’s a little embarrassing. She’s not interested in his shape, I don’t think. I mean she is, but…let’s see. As for Trunk-of-Tree, he is practicing, as best he can, for the Sixth Ring of Empathy.”

“And, how, Shadow-Walker, does he propose to do that?” queried the Shaman.

“Exactly! We don’t know the next test.” Here, Shadow Walker paused and looked carefully at the Shaman for a hint or a clue. He found none. “Anyway, the way he is preparing is by practicing earlier tests. He doesn’t know what else to do.” 

“I suppose not. And, where might he be practicing?” 

“That is hard to say. I mean, I know where he is generally, but not precisely. He thinks you may re-ask us to do the first task, but this time testing a finer gradation of empathy. So, he is searching for places where the number of mountain peaks seen will depend on the height of the individual. Frankly, Shaman, it seems far-fetched to me. Of course, if that is the next trial, please don’t take offense. It’s just that every trial so far has been quite different so….well, I have no idea. Well, that’s not completely true. I have an idea but I don’t know whether it’s correct.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives smiled as she asked, “And, what is this idea, Shadow Walker?”

“Well, I think. She-of-Many-Paths and I both think…” he paused to look at the young woman who nodded almost imperceptibly. “We both think that we are in the trial. All day. Every day. It’s not about what we do when we know we’re being tested. It’s about what we do all through our lives and how we relate to other people. At first, it seemed kind of a crazy idea, no offense, but the more we thought about it and discussed it, the more sense it made.” He glanced again at She-of-Many-Paths, who spoke next. 

“Some people…some are quite good at dissembling empathy when they know they are being watched, but the real question is, what do they do when they don’t know they’re being watched. And, I have – we have – been thinking that you are somehow watching without being seen.” 

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“An interesting, idea,” began She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. “Very interesting. Your curiosity will soon be satisfied. I ask all four of you to come to council fire by my cabin tonight.” 

So it was ordered and so it was done. After dinner, the four came to a small fire that the Shaman had set in a small octagon of logs. After everyone was seated, the Shaman began. 

“I want to thank you all for coming. Tonight I will reveal the names of those who have successfully earned the Sixth Ring of Empathy. I can see that two of you are quite surprised — so much so that you are bursting with questions. What would you like to know?

Trunk-of-Tree was indeed beside himself and needed to talk, spewing his words forth rather quickly for him. “How can you have a result when we haven’t even begun the trial. We don’t even know what the task is. At least I don’t. What are we to do? Have we already done it? What? I don’t understand.” 

Eyes-of-Eagle was equally taken aback but reacted more stoically. “I would also like to understand, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. What do you mean? When did we do a trial?”

The Shaman nodded. “These are good questions. As you know, the Veritas put a high value on truth. I have discovered that some among our tribe are attempting to deceive. And though that does not include anyone here tonight, nonetheless, I wanted to see how you employ your gifts of empathy — or not — on a day to day basis, when you are not being tested, but just going about your business hunting, fishing, gathering, conversing, exploring, arguing, helping others, making baskets and tools and so on. In other words, I wanted to learn not what you could do when tested but what you would do, when you were not being tested.” 

“Well, I, for one,” explained Trunk-of-Tree, “was trying to improve my skills. My empathy skills. I did our tests over and over trying to see through the eyes of others and feel the hunger of others and see through the eyes of animals. I think I have improved all of these skills. And, also, I tried different ways of how-to. That’s what I’ve been doing. Improving my empathy.” 

“Indeed, this is not a bad thing, Trunk-of-Tree. How have you used your skill — your improved skill — to help the Veritas or to help someone among the Veritas?” 

“Well,” stammered Trunk-of-Tree, “would there not be plenty of time for that once, if I became leader of the Veritas? That’s your task now, but our task is to learn empathy, right?” 

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The Shaman looked at the others, “Any other comments?” 

Eyes-of-Eagle spoke next, “Well, we have been talking among us a lot about empathy and about what the trial might be. I thought it would involve shape-shifting. I thought we would actually have to change our shape in some way so we could imagine, what it might be like if we were smaller, or older, or more … but I can see your point. Yes, the best trial is the trial no-one knows is a trial. Shadow-Walker and She-of-Many-Paths thought you might trick us like that but I didn’t really take it seriously.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke, “I did not say it was a trick. Nor did Shadow-Walker. That is how you and Trunk-of-Tree characterized it. I just thought it was a slim possibility since it was taking so long. But then, the more we discussed it, the more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed that at least one of the trials wouldn’t be identified as such. In this way, our natures and choices would be revealed more fully.” 

“This is all true,” said the Shaman, “and was indeed my plan. However, I also discovered something I did not know. She-of-Many-Paths has a particular talent that is rare indeed. She can tune into the very Tree of Life through another’s heart. She can connect her empathy with her imagination. And then I discovered that Shadow-Walker can sense the origin passion of a plan. The development of these unusual talents is consistent with my observations that both of them have been thinking about empathy all during their activities. I am therefore giving the Sixth Ring of Empathy to She-of-Many-Paths and Shadow-Walker. 

“I need to share one other thing with all of you. I have reason to believe that sometime soon we may have some treachery in our midst. I just ask all four of you to keep your eyes, ears, and hearts open. You can use a broad-net empathy to sense when bad things are about to happen. Use it wisely.”

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Myths of the Veritas: The Friendship/Not-Friendship of POND MUD & ALT-R

14 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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bullying, empathy, innovation, myth, politics, psychology, story, truth, Veritas

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{Translator’s Note}: What follows is not contained in the “official” version of “The Seven Rings of Empathy.” That does not mean it’s any less true. It was not included in the original version because the majority of those who decided what went into the “official” oral history of the Veritas apparently thought this story too irrelevant to the main points of “The Seven Rings of Empathy.” Beyond that, several thought that the danger of providing a “bad model” for future generations outweighed the potential benefits of being forewarned. But none of the judges thought the story untrue. 

I agree, however, with the “minority report” – the judge who deemed that it should be included. If treachery and selfishness are part of human nature, why should we not know that? It does not mean, of course, that we should simply give in what is worst in our natures and use the excuse that we couldn’t help it. But knowing the sorts of errors we may fall into should both help prevent those who could be tempted and forewarn those who could minimize the damage done by such people. 

I do understand, nonetheless, the other point of view. Some of the work of Dan Ariely, for instance, which empirically studies ethics, suggests that telling people about some evil thing that some people do may actually increase the chances of more doing the same thing. For instance, some years ago, the US Park Service became concerned that too many people were taking little pieces of the Petrified Forest. So they put up signs that said something like: “Every year, 1000 pounds of this national treasure are stolen by people just like you. If this continues, the Petrified Forest will be destroyed.” So, people thought: “Hmmm, I hadn’t really thought of taking a piece for myself.” And, people thought, “Oh, so many people are doing it; I guess it can’t be that bad.” And, people thought, “I’d better get my piece before it’s all gone!.” A better sign might have read, “Every year thousands of visitors come to the Petrified Forest and the vast majority of them leave this majestic and unique beauty unmarred for future generations. We’re sure you’re another such person.” 

Or, to take an even more recent example, I would have thought it a good thing for everyone to know the atrocities that were committed under the direction of egomaniacal dictators so that it would never happen again. In the first place, if someone did have the tendency to lie, cheat, and steal their way to world domination, they would see that it actually never works out that way. Hitler ended up committing suicide and Mussolini was beaten to death by a crowd of his own people. I would hope that someone with tendencies like that, even if they weren’t moved to avoid becoming the sort of person who would commit atrocities would at least see that it was not going to end well for them either. Then, they would be encouraged to feed the “good wolf” and not become that kind of monster. It is, ultimately, the set of choices one makes that decide what kind of person they become. That was true for the Veritas tribe and it’s true for all of humanity.

Secondly, I would have thought everyone else would realize in an eye-blink how horrible it would be for everyone in a country if that country became a dictatorship. It’s pretty obvious from a priori arguments, but there is also empirical evidence. So, I had naively thought, “Well, thank God, we don’t have to go through that again!” 

We’ll see. But so far, I am thinking, if humanity “can’t handle the truth” as Jack Nicholson accused, then, we’re sunk anyway. The truth is the only way we can live and prosper. What does it mean to want the truth? It means you are becoming knowledgeable enough to react in an intelligent way to what happens. Any compromise with the truth means lessening of trust and therefore of cooperation and coordination. That in turn, means less of everything good for everyone. Therefore, I am of the opinion that the minority judge was right that the story of POND MUD and ALT-R is relevant to the teachings of “The Seven Rings of Empathy.” I am also of the opinion that, on balance, the story will prevent more people from being mean and stupid than it will promote. 

One short word though on my use of the word “official.” As I mentioned before, many people in “modern” and “sophisticated” and “techophilic” (or maybe that’s spelled “technophalic”?) civilizations believe that oral histories are completely distorted and wildly unreliable. That may be so in some instances, but the Veritas were quite aware of the possible influences to corrupt stories over time and therefore instituted a whole range of measures to keep the learnings from stories immaculately accurate (and I may delve into that more precisely at some future date). In any case, as I already mentioned, none of the judges doubted the truth of the following story. 

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The Friendship/Not-Friendship of POND MUD & ALT-R

Neither ALT-R nor POND MUD had been given the third, fourth or fifth ring of empathy. Yet, each secretly hoped that She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives might reconsider. Indeed, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives still held out some hope for ALT-R who was, in her estimation, one of the smartest in her lifetime. And, he had promised to feed the “good wolf.” She hoped that ALT-R and POND MUD might learn from one another and become more complete persons even if they never gained further rings. 

For their parts, POND MUD and ALT-R speculated who the eventual successor to the shaman might be. This provided only one of many topics that they talked about. Having been culled from the trials at the same time and for similar reasons encouraged their friendship. Such a pair could potentially help each other considerably. POND MUD had indeed been endowed with unusual strength while ALT-R showed remarkable cleverness in many respects. Their secret hope of somehow still winning the leadership of the tribe was one of the very few things that they failed to share with each other. For each was intelligent enough to see the wisdom of forming a partnership. POND MUD realized, though he hated to admit it, that he would never be so smart as ALT-R. And, ALT-R knew full well that he would never be so strong physically as POND MUD. Each, however, secretly cherished the notion that some how, a day would come that would make each to be the leader of the Veritas. Of course, POND MUD would push to have ALT-R to be his trusted advisor, for it always seemed to POND MUD that whenever their preferred plans differed, it was ALT-R that had the better plan. 

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For his part, ALT-R held just such a similar dream in his own heart. He saw himself as the leader of the Veritas with POND MUD as his personal bodyguard. Neither ALT-R nor POND MUD shared either this central tenet of their dreams or the machinations against the other to ensure their eventual dominance. For dominance over others was what each desired. 

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On one occasion, POND MUD and ALT-R decided to go foraging for blueberries. Each youth journeyed with a basket and a stave. When they came to a narrow path allowing only a leader and a follower, ALT-R led the way. From behind, POND MUD found it quite irresistible to use his stave to trip ALT-R. After the third such time, ALT-R turned and confronted POND MUD with a red face and a racing pulse, his stave held before him, his basket discarded on the ground. POND MUD laughed, “So, you want to challenge me? Have at it!” ALT-R proved skillful but he was still no match for the strength of POND MUD who basically pushed ALT-R down and then sat on his chest pinning his arms until ALT-R admitted that POND MUD was indeed much stronger. POND MUD let him up and led the way. “Good! Now, you know I am the leader. Follow me and we’ll be there quickly.” They walked in silence for a time. 

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POND MUD was so happy to have won the contest and so busy fantasizing about becoming the leader of the Veritas that he failed to take the proper path to the top of the blueberry hill. ALT-R, for his part, fumed still and though he could see that POND MUD had missed the turn, he had no intention of telling him for he knew that the path POND MUD travelled and knew that it led to a quagmire. Gradually, ALT-R let POND MUD get farther and farther ahead. They walked by witch hazel and spicebush and ALT-R gathered some leaves of each for they would be useful in later making a poultice that would help to treat the bruises that POND MUD had inflicted with his stave. POND MUD glanced back over his shoulder to note ALT-R gathering leaves. Again, he felt compelled to force his will on another. “Hey, hurry up! What are you doing? We’re here for blueberries. Not leaves. Follow me! We’re almost there! If you were the leader, it would take us forever to get to blueberry hill!” 

ALT-R’s voice dripped with enough irony to satisfy himself but be undetectable by the less subtle mind of POND MUD. “Yes, very lucky that you’re the one leading us down to blueberry hill.” 

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Though not so subtle as ALT-R, nonetheless, that phrase bothered POND MUD though he couldn’t quite discern what it was about ALT-R’s words that rung strangely. The journey was taking too long, he thought, so he yelled back to ALT-R yet again. “Hurry it up! It never takes this long to get to blueberry hill. You’re so slow! If I were on my own…Yech! What?! This path is flooded! Or mudded. I don’t recall this.” Now POND MUD’s feet were sinking. He tried to lift one and then the other foot out of the thick mud but each time, he only succeeded in sinking more deeply. He saw what appeared to be more solid ground ahead and struggled forward sinking still more deeply. Soon, his yelling and struggling succeeded in putting him in mud up to his chest. “What’s going on! Come here and help me!”

ALT-R responded to POND MUD’s panic with cold calm. That was fairly easy because ALT-R was still on rock solid ground. “No sense in both of us getting stuck. Stop struggling. Put your stave out to the side like this and drape your arms over it.” He demonstrated what was to be done. “Yes, that’s it. Now, I know this seems scary, but lean forward so your chest is on the mud. Go on. Do it if you don’t want to be stuck there forever. Keep the stave under you. Yes. And swim slowly toward me with the breast stroke. Eventually your legs will come up behind you. Let them lay along the mud as well.” 

POND MUD felt only slightly less panicked but ALT-R’s instructions did seem to be working. Very slowly, he swam through the mud toward the edge of the quagmire. 

A sudden inspiration hit ALT-R. “That’s it! You’re doing great. Slow and easy. Put your face down in the mud and blow some bubbles. That will get you here more quickly.” 

POND MUD frowned. “Why? How does that work?” 

ALT-R smiled, “I don’t know; I just know it works. Do it.”

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In another circumstance, POND MUD might not have followed ALT-R’s directions, but in the current situation, he would have grasped at any straw, had there been any. He took a deep breath, lay his face down in the mud and blew bubbles till his lungs were empty. Then, he cautiously lifted up his face, tried to shake some of the mud off by shaking his head back and forth. 

“That’s great. You’re doing well. Better take a breath and then put your face back in the mud and blow some more bubbles. You’ll be here in no time.” The next time, POND MUD came up for air, ALT-R yelled, “Wait! POND MUD, where’s your basket?” 

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“Who cares?” answered POND MUD. “It’s back there. It probably sunk.” 

“No, it didn’t sink. I see it. It’s only a few feet behind you. Isn’t that the basket She-of-Many-Paths made you? She won’t still fancy you if you lose that basket that she worked so hard on.” 

POND MUD tried to keep the panic out of his voice. “NO! You get it. I can’t go back.” 

ALT-R laughed just the slightest possible bit. “Oh, POND MUD, it’s just a little mud. Surely you can go back a few feet and get it. You’re not afraid of a little mud are you? After all, you are POND MUD.” 

POND MUD gritted his teeth, “I’m not going back! It’s too dangerous. You get it if you’re so smart.” 

ALT-R appeared to consider this. “Well, OK. I’ll get it, but then everyone will know you are too afraid of a little mud to get the basket of the young woman who loves you. A basket, I should add, that is only a few feet away.” 

“I don’t care! You get it! But don’t tell anyone! Tell her I got it. In fact, don’t tell her anything. Just get the basket! Please!” POND MUD was still inching his way forward through the mud. 

ALT-R meanwhile, had been inching backwards imperceptibly. “I’ll get it for you, POND MUD, but you definitely owe me one. No more talk from you about my following you. You’re following me from now on. But we have a bigger problem. You’re not making any more progress. You’d better put your face down in the mud and blow some more bubbles.” POND MUD complied.  

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ALT-R knew that if he gave POND MUD too much time to overcome his panic, he’d begin to see that ALT-R was toying with him. So, while POND MUD had his face in the mud, ALT-R came forward to the edge of solid ground and had POND MUD advance his stave to him while ALT-R thrust his stave out toward POND MUD. As soon as POND MUD felt the tug, he begin to try to stand upright. 

“NO!” yelled ALT-R. “Stay level. Don’t try to stand up yet! Stay on your belly till you’re on solid ground!” ALT-R struggled backwards bracing his feet as best he could on protruding rocks and roots. At last, POND MUD lay on solid ground, presently sat up, and began trying to wipe mud off his face.

ALT-R had never before summoned so much self-control but now successfully forced himself not to laugh at POND MUD covered in pond mud. It wasn’t really pond mud, but close enough to be absurdly funny to ALT-R. 

When POND MUD at last recovered his composure, he said, “Don’t forget your promise! Now, it’s your turn to get that basket. Let’s see how you like getting doused in mud!” 

“And what about your end of the bargain, POND MUD? If I retrieve that basket, you promise to follow my leadership?” Or, shall you be the one to tell She-of-Many-Paths that you managed to lose the basket she so lovingly wove for you? Or, shall I tell her?” 

“No. No. Okay. I’ll follow your lead. I swear.” 

“Good decision, POND MUD. Let me get that basket for you.” ALT-R turned and began walking back up the path away from the swamp. 

POND MUD screamed, “Where are you going? You promised to get the basket!” 

ALT-R did not turn back, but stopped a few feet farther up the path to the place he had noticed a ten foot sapling, dead, but not rotted. He broke the small brittle trunk and used his hands to break off a few remnant branches. He ignored the shouts of POND MUD and calmly walked back to the edge of the quagmire. He held the small end of the trunk in his hand and hooked one of the broken branch stems onto the handle of the basket on the very first try. He was able to use two hands to leverage the basket up and then pull it in without getting it any muddier. He handed it to POND MUD. “Here you are. As promised.” 

POND MUD seemed confused. “But…but you didn’t get muddy!”

ALT-R replied cooly, “Why would I do that? Would that make She-of-Many-Paths love you any the more? She would be a strange woman indeed who would love you more because I went needlessly through mud to get the basket she made for you. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

POND MUD shook his head, half in puzzlement, half in further attempts to free his face of mud. “But I could have done that myself! I didn’t need to swim through the mud.” 

ALT-R replied, “Perhaps you are correct, but a promise is a promise and your word is your bond. But if you like, we can relate everything that happened to She-of-Many-Paths and let her decide who she likes more. Of course, I would feel honor bound to tell her the truth. That you were too afraid to go back and get the basket yourself and had me do it. And, in return that you promised to follow me if I got the basket for you. I could be wrong, of course. I think that if we tell her the truth…well, you know women are so unpredictable. She might think you don’t really care for her if you won’t even bear a little mud for the time of a few breaths though it took her at least a day’s work to make this basket.” 

POND MUD grumbled but picked up his stave and his basket and followed ALT-R. They gathered no blueberries that day, however. Instead, they went to a nearby clear stream and washed off. For even ALT-R has a bit splattered with mud. Once again, it took all his self-control not to laugh at POND MUD as he washed off the now-dried mud of the swamp. ALT-R thought, and not for the last time, that he indeed he would one day become the leader of the Veritas, regardless of the trials set by the Shaman. Outsmarting her would be more difficult than outsmarting POND MUD. This he recognized and acknowledged. But he saw no reason why he should fail. 

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Myths of the Veritas: The Fifth Ring of Empathy

01 Saturday Sep 2018

Posted by petersironwood in America, management, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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The day after the Prophesy Dream of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives dawned clear and clean. The air smelled as sweet as ever and sweeter still to the shaman who had dreamt of a world of dirty air. The clear morning sun rainbowed on raindrops on every bush. Trees sported their first leaves of spring which are as various in colors as those of autumn but because the leaves are yet babies, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives could see much more deeply into the land about her. It filled her heart with gladness even more deeply on this spring morn. She decided that she would share her dream with all of the Veritas, but only after she took the time to craft the telling so that each would receive the gift as she had — the gift of great gratitude. For she well knew that experiencing that dead white world as she had made her redouble her appreciation for the real world but that simply telling others about her dream would not be enough to gift them the same great gratitude. It would take time to decide how best to share her gift. 

Meanwhile, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives walked to the main village to see who among “The Six Who See Through Animal Eyes” was already at work on their various tasks. The eyes of the shaman, though old, remained clear and her mind remained retentive so that as she passed through the village greeting this person and that person from among the Veritas, she observed many things both small and large. And, among the small things she noticed were a number of crushed ants. She looked around for Pond Mud but he was nowhere near. On a hunch, she decided to visit the place where she had shown Pond Mud the strength of ants. As always among the Veritas, and as she had been trained all her life, her footsteps were as silent as those of bobcat. Before she reached the clearing with the broken cabin, she could hear the angry voice of Pond Mud. And though the eyes of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives were as clear as ever, she well knew that her hearing was not so good as that of a youth such as Pond Mud. As she approached, she could hear the tone of voice of Pond Mud become sweet and she greatly suspected that he had heard her coming despite her silent way of walking. 

He met her at the entrance to the clearing and spoke first, “Ah, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, it is good to see you. I am headed back to the village. I was just trying to learn more about ants though I well understand that I am no longer in contention for another ring of empathy. Such learning is still a good thing. Anyone can see that.” 

“I am glad to hear you say that. The statement is correct. Anyone can see that. Though some choose not to see. I hear that you have become still better friends with Alt-R. Is this so?” 

“Yes, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, we have been training together to become still better hunters. And, that skill, as you well know, also requires seeing through the eyes of animals. May I accompany you back to the village and I will tell you something of what I have learned?”

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives wished to examine the clearing but decided it could be better done later while Pond Mud busied himself with other tasks. So, she returned to the village still feeling great gratitude for the fullness of the life around her. 

During this day, she observed the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes at their various tasks as well as much more. When Alt-R and Pond Mud, along with several other hunters, went to practice spear throwing, she returned to the clearing. Alas, her hunch had been correct. Pond Mud had not simply been observing ants; he had been systematically killing them. Even more disturbing, many had been tortured. And, even more disturbing than those actions, had been the dissembling of Pond Mud. He had known what she would like to have heard — that he had taken her lessons to heart. Her mood soured for this was the sort of deception that could destroy a village or indeed an entire tribe. It would have to be curbed very soon and most likely shared with the entire tribe. She held out some hope however, that the heart of Pond Mud could yet be turned to good. For if not, he would certainly be exiled, a rare and severe punishment which invariaby lead a short and lonely life. 

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As the delicate beginnings of spring gave way to the fullness of another summer, the tasks of the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes gave way from planning to building. Soon, the time came for all to recount their learning. When She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives saw that this was so, she called each of The Six to her as one. She asked each pair in turn to describe their experiences for she wanted to judge not only the maker but also the mentor as well as how they recalled events differently, as people do, and how such differences were resolved. The shaman also knew that each of The Six could learn from all these experiments in trying to use the way of how-to of another.

The first to report on their experience together were the hammock-builder, Fleet-of-Foot and his mentor, Trunk-of-Tree. According to Trunk-of-Tree, he first tried to show Fleet-of-Foot how he would make a hammock with great thought as to its longevity and strength so that it would last against time and some misuse. Fleet-of-Foot had resisted such advice and had immediately begin building the hammock. Six such hammocks had Fleet-of-Foot constructed over three days time and each such hammock had collapsed.

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Fleet-of-Foot admitted that these hammocks had broken but he claimed it was because Trunk-of-Tree had given him faulty materials and bad advice. At long last, in frustration, Fleet-of-Foot had challenged Trunk-of-Tree to show him how he would build a hammock and instead, Trunk-of-Tree had spent an entire morning making tools, and laying things out, and not even starting on the hammock. Fleet-of-Foot grew impatient because obviously, Trunk-of-Tree had had no intention of showing Fleet-of-Foot how to build a hammock. When Fleet-of-Foot came back a few hours later, the hammock was finished. This they agreed upon, and as to its sturdiness, but Fleet-of-Foot was sure that Trunk-of-Tree had cheated by getting others to help him make his hammock. Otherwise, argued Fleet-of-Foot, how could slow Trunk-of-Tree make a hammock in a day when fast Fleet-of-Foot finished no hammocks in three days? 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives had much to say about this experiment, but she held her tongue and first asked the others from among The Six what they thought. After some long silence, Shade Walker said this, “I have known both all my life and have never known Trunk-of-Tree to cheat or lie. Fleet-of-Foot is fast; of this, there is no question. But he also sometimes rushes into things so quickly that he ends up taking more time. I have myself only made three hammocks so I am not so expert as Trunk-of-Tree and perhaps mine are not quite so sturdy but they were all finished in one day.” 

She-of-Many-Paths spoke next. “I have never made a hammock. But I have been listening to many expert craftsman in our village and every such has cautioned me to take the time to plan the work carefully. Whether it is making spears, making spearheads, making pottery, or baking bread, it is critical to ensure that you have a good plan; that you have chosen your materials well; that you have prepared and tested at each step along the way. So, I can well believe that Too-Fleet-of-Foot could charge off along the wrong path six times in three days while Trunk-of-Tree could take a more deliberate path to create a hammock in one day.” 

Easy Tears knew it was his turn to speak but did not wish to offend anyone. “I cannot really tell because I was not a witness to these recounted events. I believe that each told us of their own experiences as they now recall them. And, ultimately, both were successful because now there is a hammock that was not there before and Trunk-of-Tree served as mentor and judge.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives nodded to Eyes-of-Eagle who spoke carefully, molding the shape of her argument and the shape of each sentence and each word. “I find that trying to create something in the way of another how-to is a difficult task. So, it was with Trunk-of-Tree and Fleet-of-Foot. Fleet-of-Foot grew too quickly impatient and rather than trying to build in the way of Trunk-of-Tree instead built in his own way of how-to which was not sufficient to the task. Rather than learn another, more careful way from someone who knows and uses the careful way, he insisted on sticking with his own way though that way did not work. However, Trunk-of-Tree, though he took his time with the hammock, was likewise impatient with Fleet-of-Foot and ended up building the hammock himself which was not his assigned task.”   

{Translator’s Note}: In the original, these recountings, have apparently been preserved in great detail. Though scholars differ, I tend to believe the details are correct despite their being passed down orally because the Veritas developed many methods to ensure the accuracy of their traditional learning stories and because the details of their skills were vital to their survival. Since most modern readers have little little experience weaving baskets or making a hide tent, I omit much of those details in my summaries. Instead, I focus on the lessons learned and the decisions of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives. 

Now, as was her way, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives asked Fleet-of-Foot and Trunk-of-Tree whether they had found any further learning while listening to the comments of his compatriots. 

Fleet-of-Foot immediately began, “Wonderful comments. I learned much. However, the important thing is that I was asked to produce a hammock in the way of how-to of Trunk-of-Tree and such a hammock was indeed constructed. I caused that to happen by my actions so I believe I completed my task. Fast is good. But sometimes, the fastest way to accomplish something is to have someone else who is even faster do the job. Either way, faster is better.” 

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives stared at Fleet-of-Foot and sighed. Still, she did not speak. Instead, she turned to Trunk-of-Tree. The latter’s face flushed as he said, “Fleet-of-Foot is indeed impatient, but so was I. My job was to mentor Fleet-of-Foot in the way of how-to for strength and longevity yet after three days, I gave up and made the hammock myself. I believed that if I demonstrated to him that I could make the hammock more quickly by being careful and planning each step that Fleet-of-Foot would learn the lesson. I made this judgement based on my own way of how-to. I would have learned the lesson this way. But this is not the way of learning of Fleet-of-Foot. He is too impatient to learn in this way. He left even before I finished; in fact, barely after I had made preparations for the work. He believes I encouraged or cajoled others to help me, which I did not do, because I failed to teach him the slow and methodical way of how-to. So, I too failed in my task.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives again turned to “Fleet of Foot” and prompted, “And…?” Fleet-of-Foot answered thusly, “Trunk-of-Tree may have failed but I did not. We should see who else besides me deserves the next ring of empathy.” 

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives chuckled. “I have dreamed of such a one as you, Fleet-of-Foot, and when the time comes, I will indeed, shrink our group as is befitting, as well as sharing my dream. I would now observe, however, that Trunk-of-Tree has shared a great learning for all of us. What would have sufficed for him to have learned the lesson of patience did not work for you. On the other hand, you have shown no learning whatever. The tree of your learning has not added a single branch or leaf so far as I can see. Fleet-of-Foot, you wished to win a race; lost the race; then showed no interest in discovering how you could have won the race. This is the way of “Fast-at-First-and-Slow-at-Last.” 

So, in turn, did each of the pairs recount their experiences and learnings. 

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Trunk-of-Tree made a basket very slowly and carefully. Yet, no-one wanted to trade very much for such a basket; not nearly enough to satisfy Trunk-of-Tree’s desire for compensation for so much time spent. Easy-Tears had been quite content to watch the strong hands of Trunk-of-Tree working the reeds over and under and through. It had been quite mesmerizing. She had said almost nothing during the making, but when Trunk-of-Tree found no-one willing to trade much for his basket, she showed Trunk-of-Tree how the addition of a some brightly colored dyes in a pleasing pattern changed such luck and how such additions made his sturdy basket much more desirable in the eyes of the clan. Trunk-of-Tree had been quite surprised at this common reaction. He had thought the purpose of a basket was to hold things and this goal he had accomplished quite well. However, Easy-Tears had shown him how just a little extra work, though not making the basket stronger or more functional, could greatly increase how badly others wanted such a useful basket. 

Shade-Walker and Eagle-Eyes recounted their adventures in jug making. At first, Shade Walker had mainly loved the feel of the wet clay spinning through his hands. With the hands of Eagle Eyes guiding his, however, he learned to enjoy the sight of the evolving shape as well. In the end, both had gone on to make a series of beautiful jugs. Eagle Eyes had ended up loving the feel of the wet clay, although what she had loved the most was the feel of Shade Walker’s fingers, she admitted. 

Eyes-of-Eagle explained that she found if very difficult to make a dream catcher under the tutelage of Fleet-of-Foot since she herself had wanted the end result to be beautiful and Fleet-of-Foot kept encouraging her to proceed more and more quickly. However, as Fleet-of-Foot at last perceived that his constant encouragement toward ever more speed made Eyes-of-Eagle both more error prone and more testy with him, he instead encouraged her by telling her that she was amazingly fast. Everyone could see that Fleet-of-Foot was again interested in speed; however, in this case, his interest had been more in speed of becoming more intimate with Eyes-of-Eagle than in the speed of making a dream catcher. 

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She-of-Many-Paths told of how she had wanted to make a tent for Shade Walker. Shade Walker had liked watching her and had asked if she were enjoying the process of making the tent. She had blushed — and had said that she was very much enjoying herself. After they get over their awkwardness, they had talked about the various ways of how-to and had decided together that being grounded and having a satisfying process are very much akin. Though these are different ways of how-to, one helps provide the other, they had surmised. This they shared with The Six and the shaman and all had agreed. 

Upon recounting and subsequent questioning, all learned that Easy-Tears had wanted the travois to be popular and had difficulty even understanding what She-of-Many-Paths meant by constructing a travois so that it encouraged a “grounded” view of life. Easy-Tears had been watching She-of-Many-Paths and Shade-Walker for some time however, and decided that what She-of-Many-Paths really wanted was Shade-Walker. Easy-Tears suggested that if She-of-Many-Paths wanted Shade-Walker, it would be best for everyone to be done quickly with the travois project so that She-of-Many-Paths could spend more time with Shade-Walker who had lately been spending much time with Eagle-Eyes, their long fingers inter-twined with those in the wet clay which they shaped together. In return, Easy-Tears had promised to teach She-of-Many-Paths the path to popularity and thereby to further increase the interest with which Shade-Walker would view She-of-Many-Paths. 

At the end of day, after every such recounting and dialogue, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives quietly took out a small, folded deerskin. This deerskin held a number of rings of hemp woven into a complex, repeating, yet ever-changing pattern. “The time has come,” she began, “to chose which among all the Veritas is ready to take on the next challenge. All of you have done well and should now be more of a contributor than ever to the Veritas. I have challenged you in many ways to see and feel as others do. In this, you have all shown much skill in the ways of empathy.”

“As you know, each of us is a small leaf on the very large Tree of Life, a tree that has been growing and expanding through all of earth. We are all connected: the people who are the Veritas, other people, other animals, every bird, every plant. We are all connected. With empathy, you may be able to tune in to the tree itself. As you have observed, when we sing and play music and dance, the self-same beat is in everyone and every drum vibrates. If two strings are of the same length, and one is plucked the other may also vibrate. The life in all is in all.

“Learning to tune in to the music, to the beat of another person, or to the great Tree of Life is a great gift to be greatly encouraged. However, you must understand that this is the Tree of Life itself that you are tuning into in order to understand others. When you do such tuning in, you must do so for the good of others, for this great Tree of Life. If instead, you tune in only to serve your own ends, you are using the Tree of Life in a way that destroys the tree itself. Empathy is a way to make us whole. It should never be used to divide us. 

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“Fleet-of-Foot, you had some ability to understand the way of Trunk-of-Tree. This knowledge you used to subvert the task at hand. You therefore emerged from the womb of this great opportunity for you to have learned patient working instead unchanged. You also used your understanding of Eyes-of-Eagle, not to help her learn other ways, but to flatter her to try to get her to become closer to you. Ultimately, this way of using empathy always pushes others away. Some may understand quickly and some may take years. But ultimately, tuning in to the Tree of Life in order to bend it to your own purpose will fail for you. It may also, as shown in my dream, cause the Tree of Life itself to fail. 

“Easy-Tears, you were honest and helpful in your work with Trunk-of-Tree. You helped him to understand in a deep way that the surface beauty of something, while it may not be of much value to him, is nonetheless of value to others. In this, you did well. However, you tried to use your knowledge of the affection that She-of-Many-Paths has for Shade-Walker to try to get her to accept your lack of being able to understand the way of how-to of grounding every action. She-of-Many-Paths saw through this ruse and told us honestly of what happened. Yours was also a misuse of empathy. You were not primarily interested in helping She-of-Many-Paths as you claimed, but were more interested in getting your task finished. Moreover, if you really understood deeply Trunk-of-Tree and She-of-Many-Paths, you would see that a surface popularity is not what draws them together. Rather, they are being drawn together by the Tree of Life itself; e.g., their own future children.

“Please understand. Your own ways of how-to are each valuable. And you are all skilled in empathy. For now, I bestow the Fourth and Fifth Rings of Empathy on only those who tune in to the great Tree of Life to help the great Tree of Life. If I become convinced at some future time that others have also learned this great lesson, they too may receive the Fourth and Fifth Rings. For now, please come to me to receive your rings for you have earned them.”

Trunk-of-Tree, Shade-Walker, Eyes-of-Eagles, and She-of-Many-Paths each came in turn, knelt before the shaman and received their double rings. Each such person had much to think about and they walked back to their lodgings in silence.  

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