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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Monthly Archives: August 2026

Happy Darwin Day!

05 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in essay, love, nature, psychology, science, Uncategorized

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beauty, Darwin, Darwin's Day, evolution, life, nature, philosophy, science

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Charles Darwin: 

Born: February 12, 1809

November 24, 1859, The Origin of Species was published. 

So, which date do we use to mark the beginning of evolution? 

LOL. Neither! 

Life has been evolving on earth for 4.5 billion years! You and I and everyone else on earth and every Redwood, Monarch Butterfly, Rose Bush, Siberian tiger, and Honeybee; every Porpoise, Sailfish, Snail, Hummingbird and Eagle evolved in an unbroken line from our common ancestors. 

Every single one of your direct ancestors stayed alive long enough to procreate. 

The study of life has always fascinated me. I found it astounding as a kid. I find it astounding today after 4/5 of a century. In honor of Charles Darwin Day — February 12th — I thought I’d point to some earlier essays and poems that have touched on life, evolution, or genetics. BTW, it’s August 5th, but we’re the product of evolution 24 hours/day, 365 1/4 days a year so it’s okay to celebrate now.

The parts of humanity we call “Western Civilization” has spent a very long time viewing other life forms as “stuff” to be used. We focus a lot of technology and eradicating other life forms, manipulating them, repositioning them, planting them, training them to do our bidding–not to mention eating them.

And, long ago, our ancestors decided it was more fun to move around than to simply eat light from the sun. The problem is, you can’t really generate enough energy to play all the fun games that humans can (along with our kin). We must eat. So, yes, I would eat another life form so mine could continue. But I would not utterly destroy a forest to put in a shopping mall to make billionaires richer.

But imagine for a moment that we put some resources into creating a very different relationship among the various species on the planet. What if, instead of seeing how best to monetize these beings, we instead viewed them as teachers, students, mentors, mentees, distant cousins? (All which, BTW, are true relations we have) What if we multiplied our efforts to communicate with them rather than exploit them? Humans can learn a tremendous amount by being exposed to even a single culture other than their own. Imagine how much we could learn from a million different species.

Here’s the thing about the life forms we share the planet with. The more you learn about any one of them; the more you look into their history, their ecology, their strategies, the more stunned you will become. We have one way to unlock some of that wisdom which is by careful observation. We can unlock some aspects with traditional analytic science. But imagine we could really learn to share experiences with other species.

Photo by u041eu043bu0435u0433 u042fu043au043eu0432u043bu0435u0432 on Pexels.com

Math Class: Who are you? 

Many people act in their “self-interest.” Others act altruistically. What might a balance between self-interest and altruism look like?

It seems to me at least worth considering that the genes that make you be the being that you are are not only within the boundaries of your own skin. Those genes are all over the place! Some are in trees. Some are in bees. Many are in a porcupine. And the vast majority are in all humankind. There’s way more of “you” out there than just what is in your own skin. 

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/03/09/math-class-who-are-you/

The Great Race to the Finish

Ever notice how much many people rush about? I am too. Or, at least, I used to be. As I write this, none of our six cats is rushing about. Not even close. Charles Wallace is curled up in a cat bed on the window sill. Luna is curled up on the bed next to my wife. The other four are all in the living room lying in the sun. If I approached any one of them, they would know it instantly. They are not in deep sleep. They are just taking a … well … a cat nap

https://petersironwood.wordpress.com/2017/03/24/the-great-race-to-the-finish/

And speaking of cats, no doubt part of the reason I love them is that they are constant reminders of how to enjoy life and not only by napping! 

A Suddenly Springing Something

A Cat’s a Cat & That’s That

Hai-Cat-Ku for You

Cats are also quite willing to be demonstrative when it comes to reminding you that they have their own agency; that their life is every bit as precious to it as yours is to you. 

Ripples

Actions have consequences.

We generally think of evolution in terms of a species, over time, adapting to whatever circumstances it finds itself in. But consider this: the choices we make determine what kind of environment we will live in and ultimately, how an organism (including humanity) will evolve.  

Ripples

Life is a dance between endless repetition on the one hand and chaos on the other hand. Life is not a printing press. Each copy is a little different. Because of that, it can change, and bend, and learn, and change. 

Life is a Dance

All Life is a Dance

The natural world is overflowing with beauty. 

It’s diverse; it’s abundant; it’s everywhere. When humans come in and change the landscape? Sometimes, we make it marginally better or add something that is as beautiful as nature but very different. But that’s rare. If we’re honest about it, most of the things humans make are not nearly so beautiful as the natural things they replace. The manufactured items are often more convenient. For instance, it’s easier and more affordable and more convenient for most people to own a car rather than a horse. But beauty? Despite hiring really good designers and putting in lots of time & energy into making a good design and then selling that design, I’ve never seen a car that approaches a horse in terms of beauty. And, aside from the “nice tries” but you didn’t get there category and the “well at least it works and is blah” category, let’s not forget the many occasions when humans replace natural beauty with unabashed and stunning ugliness. These poems, I suppose, were partly written in the hopes that humanity would see natural beauty and work together to leave the world more beautiful than we found it — and not just more “efficient.” 

You Must Remember This

Ah Wilderness!

The Tree of Life

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

The Forest

It was his nature

It isn’t only a matter of how things look, of course. I wish that our actions and interactions could be more beautiful as well.

Let the Rainbows In

Happy Diwali

Oh, Tannenbaum!

P is for Politics

https://petersironwood.com/2021/08/31/let-the-rainbows-in/

When I was trained as an experimental psychologists, thinking about the experience of other species was not encouraged. It was actively discouraged. I have a very different view of the world now. I think it is much more parsimonious to presume that other organisms do have some sort of experience and in many cases, similar. 

Occam’s Chain Saw Massacre

In addition to poems, I also like to celebrate the nature of nature by sharing thoughts and pictures, many in a series I call “The Walkabout Diaries.” Why? Because I literally walk about, generally the garden, and observe things there. 

The Walkabout Diaries

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way
The Walkabout Diaries: Lest We Forget…
The Walkabout Diaries: Racism is Absurd.
Life Will Find a Way
Joseph’s Coat of Many Colors
The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets
Ghosts of Flowers Past

Dictatorship is fundamentally anti-life

Dictatorship is the opposite of life. It hates freedom, truth, cooperation, and love. It isn’s satisfied with “motivating” people to do things with cogent rationale. It wants to force people to do things under threat of death or pain. It wants what is good for one person to substitute for the messy processes of negotiating what’s good enough for everyone. It wants to replace the thinking of millions of people to decide what to do with the thinking of one person and when mistakes are made hide those mistakes so well that no-one will learn from them. It’s the opposite of life. Or, at least, it is the opposite of healthy life. It’s cancer run amok. Like all cancers, it’s doomed. But that doesn’t mean there can’t be a lot of pain before it runs its course. 

Cancer Always Loses in the End
Drumbeat: Spoiled Feet Fill the Street
Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of Three Blind Mice
The Cancelled Flight to Crazytown
Fish Have No Word for “Water”
The “All for me!” Bee
Siren Song


Life is a precious gift. Don’t throw it away. 

Get the Important Message

Author Page on Amazon

Ghosts of Flowers Past

05 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, essay, family, love, nature, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

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flower, flowers, garden, ghosts, grandfather, grandpa, life, nature

I was about five when my grandfather held my ear in the Solarium as we watched for cars and tried to guess the color of the next one. And, he quoted Confucius:

“When I reach over and pinch my grandson’s ear for a moment, I hold immortality in my hand.” When I was a child, I took this to mean that I was his immortality since I would live on. And, he did mean that. But I also think that he meant me to remember it when I became a grandfather. So, I pass down this wisdom, originally perhaps from Confucius and perhaps from much older sources.

In any case, when I contemplate their lives, it also means I hold immortality in my mind. I see the unbroken chain of ideas as well as the unbroken chain of biology. We are all part of a great tree of life. And, now we are also part of a giant tree of information. Ideally, the two work together as one. We learn more and as we learn more we use that knowledge to make the tree of life ever more resilient and ever more diverse. The healthier the Great Tree of Life, the more time and energy will be left over for us to learn more and more. Biology and knowledge reinforce each other in a natural virtuous circle. 

Destroying the chain of knowledge and instead corrupting it for selfish purposes will mar the Great Tree of Life. It cannot be otherwise. How can we do what is wise for any part of the Tree of Life, if we are filled with lies? We will utterly fail to be nourishing. The Cancer-Greed will want you to think nothing of the welfare of any life except a small circle which they will, of course, claim to include you in. But focusing that narrowly on life always results in catastrophe. It’s like driving a car in LA traffic while staring at a spot on your steering wheel through a magnifying glass. 

“Short-sightedness can be fatal.” 

——————-

Certain experiences jump so easily to mind after many decades much more readily than they have any right to. For example, my grandfather made a wonderful rock garden with a goldfish pond. Once when I was perhaps 5, we sat on a rock and I saw some ants on the ground traveling in a line. He wondered aloud whether they were “sugar ants” or “fat ants.” He claimed that some ants like sugar and others prefer fat. Well, I certainly knew where I stood on that issue and announced, “Oh, they are sugar ants!” We got two little bottle caps and in one, put some sugary water and in the other some lard. (Back in those days, people used lard. It’s true.) 

I knew, even then, that my grandpa was a really smart guy. And, yet, here I was — absolutely sure of the answer without even having to do an experiment. Fat? Yech! Don’t get me wrong. I already loved bacon and nuts. But Lard? What self-respecting ant is going to want to eat that? I certainly wouldn’t!

It didn’t take long for me to be proven right. The ants almost totally ignored the lard and had an entire supply chain set up in minutes for the sugar water. Of course, it’s easy to see now that my reasoning was completely naive and self-centered. But that didn’t mean I believed it any less fervently. Grandpa designed an experiment and we looked at the results. But it was no experiment to me. I knew the answer — so I thought. It wasn’t as though I thought it more likely that they would go for the sugar. No. I knew they would go for the sugar because that’s what I would do. 

“Pilots who die from running out of gas were sure they wouldn’t when they took off.”

——————————-

Voter Suppression is Life Suppression

Absolute is not just a vodka

It’s not your fault; send me money! 

Essays on America: Wednesday

Math Class: Who are you? 

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Watershed Virus

Essays on America: The Game

My Cousin Bobby

What about the Butter Dish?

The Loud Defense of Untenable Positions

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

The Isle of Right

Author Page on Amazon

Myths of the Veritas: Love Notes

04 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in fantasy, fiction, leadership, love, management, nature, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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books, empathy, ethics, fantasy, fiction, language, love, myth, short story, Veritas, writing

Shadow Walker awoke before dawn. He looked over at Many Paths, grateful for her, for the healing of life that had finally mended his leg, for the people he lived among. His imprisonment in the Great Walled City of the Z-Lotz had shown him that not all tribes are built on love and trust and truth. 

He smiled at Many Paths. He was sorely tempted to gently awaken her, but instead decided to treat her to some fresh blackberries. He had noticed some along the long, hidden path that now connected the Veritas here with those who lived on the other side of the mountain. He arose quietly and slipped out the front of their cabin when a thought occurred to him. The writing that Tu-Swift had discovered need not be limited to books. 

Shadow Walker softly stole back inside and wrote a simple note and put it beside Many Paths. He smiled as he imaged her awakening, not seeing Shadow Walker but then noticing that he had left a token of his love that could actually be read by his love. Every time he thought of it, he felt amazed all over again at this new world of writing and reading. 

He stopped by Tu-Swift’s cabin on the off chance Tu-Swift was also up early. Shadow Walker thought that perhaps he should really think of it now as the cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes. They were obviously in love, but, perhaps more importantly, Shadow Walker could see that the two of them worked well as a team. He smiled and thought of Many Paths. He whispered to himself, “Yes, Many Paths. We also make a good team.” 

The cabin of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes was empty of people, but Shadow Walker immediately spied a piece of birchbark with writing symbols on it. The two of them had gotten up early and started on their translation work at a nearby overlook which caught the rays of the rising sun. Behind a natural rock table, what was nearly a perfect semi-circle of granite cliff reflected the rays making it a pleasant place where the dew lifted more quickly than other places. So, it was here they made their workshop for their most serious work. Sometimes, they did their work in the most public parts of the Veritas villages so that others could see what they were up to, ask questions, and learn. They didn’t mind having their work interrupted to answer questions. At the same time, to them, the quest for knowledge was a passion, not just because they of their thirst for knowledge, but multiplied by the overwhelming premonition they shared that just as terrible things had happened before, they would again — unless, perhaps — they might be able to piece things together so as to prevent making the same mistakes yet again. Some plants do well in full sunlight and much water. Others do better in shade with little water. Sometimes, Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift needed to focus on understanding in a deep way. Those deep roots would not grow with constant interruption; hence, the special area. 

Shadow Walker picked his blackberries that morning without human companionship. That hardly means he was alone. He picked early enough to hear a concert of his songful birdish cousins. Shadow Walker could see many of his smaller cousins as well {Translator’s Note: This is what we would call:} : ants, spiders, aphids, ladybugs, butterflies, a walking stick, several snails, and a cricket. When berry picking is a full time job, the experience is, no doubt, completely different. What Shadow Walker experienced, as an adult, was precisely the joy that any small child feels as they pick berries for the first time, marveling in the fresh, sweet, rich taste as the teeny bubbles burst syrupy goodness onto the tongue.

Shadow Walker also still felt the joy of the attention-demanding weave of hands so as to capture the berry but avoid the sharp prickers, and he still felt joy from the knowledge that he was doing his part; contributing something to family, community, and himself. In Shadow Walker’s experience of the moment, all of that was still fully there. In addition, he thought of it also as a present for the woman he loved with all his heart. 

Perhaps that is partly why, when he had plenty of berries to fulfill his contribution to the anticipated breakfast with Many Paths, he continued to pick berries until late morning. Plenty of other people in the village could share in the fruit and some might dry some of the berries for much later. 

Photo by Thierry Fillieul on Pexels.com

When Shadow Walker did arrive back, much later than he had originally intended, he heard soft crying from within. His mood slid from a bright yellow joy to a dark purple sadness because that is what he received from Many Paths. 

He knelt down beside her, took her hands gently into his and asked, “What on earth is wrong?”

She looked up, sighed, and looked into Shadow Walker’s face. She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her, not with the energy necessary to signal another person that you like them or even the energy of a hug that lingers because it feels good. This was more like the hug of someone holding onto a tree limb or an overhang — holding on for dear life.

Shadow Walker knew the difference. At last, Many Paths released her hold, sat back up and smiled at him. She began,  

“Thank you for leaving me the note!” 

—————————

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Tale of the Three Blind Mice

The Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

It was in his Nature

Is a Dream

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Fish Have no Word for Water

The Dance of Billions

Corn on the Cob

Doing the Dishes Pounding the Corn

Author Page on Amazon

We’re all in this together

03 Monday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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community, cooperation, Democracy, earth, green, nature, peace, poem, poetry, society

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one. 

Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too black or brown or yellow!

I’m just an ordinary fellow! 

You’re too gay or straight or mellow!

You even eat that apple jello! 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

Old & young and in-between;

The ever-seen and never-seen.

Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too fat or skinny or too tall!

Perhaps you’re short and way too small! 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

Into games or sports of every sort.

Even tall and short and every sort.



Oh, my God, it can’t be true. 

Perhaps for me, but not for you! 

You’re too shallow, smart, or kind;

Too lame or sick or different mind. 

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.

We’re all in this together.

Each and every one.


Take a glance join the dance

The Watershed Virus

The only “them” that counts is all of us

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Fire and Ice

The “All for me” Bee

Life Will Find a Way

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

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