OLIE & the Z-Lotz

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in story, Veritas

Tags

collaboration, cooperation, politics, story, Democracy, psychology, history, Veritas, leadership, fiction, writing

With Shadow Walker looking on with his sword at the ready, Many Paths searched the Z-Lotz stranger for concealed weapons. They tied a length of rope around both his ankles so that he could shuffle along, but not run or kick. They also tied OLIE’s hands behind him. While performing these tasks, Shadow Walker & Many Paths carried on a rapid conversation in Veritas and watched for signs of comprehension but saw none.

Shadow Walker spoke to the fettered man using a combination of signs and the broken Z-Lotz that he knew. “We do not plan to harm you. As we said, some might try. Their anger might burn out of control before they think. We will prepare people first to help ensure your safety. We have bound you, but you would be foolish to try to escape. The last time Z-Lotz came under a flag of truce, they left deadly poisonous “gifts” and many among the Veritas consider this … unworthy … a most unworthy action for a human being.”

Many Paths led the trio back toward the Center Place of the Veritas, while Shadow Walker walked behind their prisoner. He forced himself to stay ever-alert to the possibility that the man might bolt into the underbrush or use some hidden weapon or signal some nearby warriors to attack. Though he didn’t consider this likely, the consequences of being too complacent could be catastrophic. It occurred to Shadow Path that having a “prisoner” was actually a burden. It slowed down their progress considerably. It made conversation between himself and Many Paths stiffer and more circuitous. Though he was reasonably sure that OLIE really knew very little or no Veritas, he couldn’t be completely sure. Maybe everything was play-acting. Maybe they were walking into — or even already in — a trap of some kind that he could not foresee. How could a people become like the Z-Lotz — full of deception and deceit? Couldn’t they perceive how much more difficult it made life for the Z-Lotz themselves?

Many Paths engaged in silent reflection of her own. She had been astounded at how little the Z-Lotz seemed to have known about the Veritas. And yet — the thought that haunted her was that the Veritas themselves had known so little about their neighbors. All their neighbors. Knowing more about the other tribes would make war less likely, but if war came, she reasoned, it would also make for a less costly victory. She frowned. She realized that it wasn’t just knowing about the other tribes. It was also understanding them. It wasn’t enough simply to know that the Z-Lotz and the Cupiditas had chosen their leaders by mortal combat. Now she knew that. In fact, by now, all the Veritas knew that. But none had any idea why they did that. Yet, if OLIE were to be believed, even the priests of the Z-Lotz could see that it was now leading to too much bloodshed. Again, if OLIE could be believed, having Shadow Walker step down as king — or, to put it more accurately — flee the Z-Lotz City — Read-It OLIE had called it — Shadow Walker had fled the Read-It and that caused more chaos.

Though the mind of Many Paths never strayed far from the puzzle of how to have the various tribes work together to ensure peace, her senses stayed tune to the world around her. The path back to the village was extremely well known to her and she stayed on the lookout for the slightest evidence of the presence of additional Z-Lotz. Her next thought made her suddenly chuckle to herself. She said to Shadow Walker, “Ask OLIE why their custom is to choose their leader as the one most lethal or … perhaps that is not the way they think of … just ask how they pick their leaders and why they do it that way.

Shadow Walker tried to think how best to phrase the question. “OLIE, you said my leaving suddenly made things worse for you. For that, I am sorry. One thing we Veritas cannot understand is the whole — I don’t really understand exactly how you choose leaders and I have no idea why you choose them that way. If I understand it, someone always dies and … never mind. Please explain it as you do to your own children. We truly wish to understand.”

OLIE continued to shuffle along for a time then said, “How do you choose a new leader?”

Shadow Walker frowned. He translated the question for his Partner. She chuckled but made no attempt to answer the question. Shadow Walker said, “Our leader stays in power only so long as she — or he — is seen by the people as doing a good job of leading. Initially, the old leader devises a series of trials for those who would be leader. Most recently, our old leader devised a series of seven tests. Many Paths was the only one to succeed at all the trials. So, she became the leader.”

OLIE nodded. “Why do you choose leaders in the way you do?”

Shadow Walker pursed his lips. He translated the question for Many Paths. Then he sighed and answered this way. “It is custom, I suppose. It seems to work. I have heard many reasons and thought of a few myself. First, the current leader knows what it takes to be the leader. She, or more rarely, he, has spent much time trying to honestly understand her mistakes and how she could have avoided them or how her successor might avoid similar mistakes in the future. She learns from everyone in the entire Tribe and from the place we live — the birds, the lizards, the bees, the flowers, the trees, the river, the mountains. They all inform her of what the people need to learn and especially what the leader must be able to do.

“Second, the tests or trials are themselves a learning experience, especially for those who wish to be the leader, but also for the Tribe as a whole and also for the current leader.

“Third, the trials are not secret as to outcome, and everyone who wanted to be a leader can see who did the various tasks well and who did not. All of those who tried to be leader could see for themselves how well Many Paths did on these tasks. If they are honest with themselves, they all realize that she performed the best.

“Fourth, the tribe itself sings of these trials. Not only the recent ones, but all of them. The stories in our songs also speak of how the various leaders actually were — how they behaved — what their successes and failures were. So, we not only learn from the trials and from the past leaders but also look for mistakes in how the leaders were chosen. One of our tales is about a would-be leader we call ‘The Orange Man’ — our tale tells of how his lying and his greed resulted in the death of an entire village as well as his own death. He was never actually a leader but he wanted to be in charge of everything and everyone. Such a one would never be chosen by a real leader, but if he had been chosen, the people would soon have called for a new leader. As it was, he was rightfully just an outcast. But if he had been a leader of the Veritas, and if he had actually passed some tests, we would incorporate the failure of those tests to discover this dishonesty and greed.

“There may be more reasons, but tell me why you choose your leaders the way you do.”

OLIE began what seemed to be a well-rehearsed recitation. “The Book that tells us All says leaders choose themselves. Only the strongest and the smartest will survive. Only the strongest and the smartest will be leaders. Thus, it has been from the beginning of time. Thus it is now. Thus, it shall always be.”

OLIE shuffled forward adding nothing to this quotation.

After a time, Shadow Walker said, “That says nothing about mortal combat determining the outcome. Is there more?”

OLIE stopped in his tracks. He turned awkwardly to look at Shadow Walker. “What do you mean? It says that only the strongest and smartest will survive. What else could it mean?”

Many Paths had turned around as well. “Is everything all right?”

Shadow Walker recapped his little discussion with OLIE.

Many Paths beamed! “Wonderful! Keep going! This is excellent. Fill me in when you can.” The tiniest hint of a smile curled her lip and she looked at Shadow Walker and raised one eyebrow.

Shadow Walker felt himself blush slightly, but plunged back into his halting conversation in Z-Lotz {Translator’s Note: here reproduced without the haltingness}. “There are many contests of strength! Felling trees, swimming rivers, lifting stones, wrestling. A contest of strength doesn’t have to be a fight to the death.”

OLIE frowned. “But fight to the death is the natural way. All animals do this.”

Shadow Walker stifled a laugh. “No they don’t! A few fight for top position, but such fights are rarely lethal. I have never witnessed one, but our tales say it is possible. Even in such a position, the top wolf or elk will consider input from all. They are not all-powerful. That would make them blind to what is really happening. It has to. They are under constant fear that someone will kill them at any time, with or without but probably with the help of traitors. But that means, no-one really trusts anyone. If everyone must hide the truth…? Did the Z-Lotz build Read-It?”

OLIE shook his head. “No, they were built by the ancients. Then, they left because god told them to and left the City for the homeless and nomadic Z-Lotz.”

“Could you build such a City as Read-It again?”

OLIE shook his head. “You ask strange questions. I have never heard anyone speak of such a thing. But it is obvious the answer is ‘no.’ Much of what the Ancients left us, we do not understand. If we do not understand, it is safest not to touch it. Some died touching things that they did not understand. But we have no knowing of how-to such buildings nor the magic stems that bring us water. Nor the vines that bring us light. What does this have to do with how our leaders are chosen?”

Shadow Walker nodded gravely. “You came to something you did not understand. When you tried to learn from it, people died. You as a people decided that you didn’t want to challenge knowledge and explore because that would be dangerous. You liked having an absolute King so that all disputes could be settled at once though arbitrarily and almost always in favor of the King’s own interests. Such a King would rarely be motivated to do great good for a great number of people. That would simply enable more challenges to his rule. He would instill fear in the people by brutality. And that brutality would be aimed precisely at the strongest and the smartest! He would want to eliminate this most likely challengers. What he would prefer are the most pliable and, frankly…But let me hear what you think about this. You lived there. I only — let us say — visited.”

————————

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Myths of the Veritas: OLIE

16 Sunday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in Veritas

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books, collaboration, cooperation, fable, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legend, myth, peace, problem solving, psychology, short story, trust, truth, Veritas, war, writing

Many Paths & Shadow Walker glanced at each other. Instantly, each saw that the other had also heard the shuffling. Shadow walker continued in the same tone of voice he had been using, being careful not to inflect his voice with any hint of worry or concern. “Perhaps the next persons with whom we should dialog are Tu-Swift, Cat Eyes and her parents, Tree Vines and Gathers Acorns. These are the people who best understand the Z-Lotz.”

Many Paths nodded. “I believe that Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes are going to share their recent findings with us tonight or tomorrow and then, they will be headed back to the library that lies over the mountain. We can talk with them and perhaps accompany them to gather still more information from her parents.”

Shadow Walker replied, “Great. I’ve had enough blackberries anyway.”

They began to stroll off. Once they judged to be far enough away, they split up and stalked back to the blackberry thicket from two sides, like the pincers of a crab or the jaws of a cougar. Weapons drawn, they moved only when the wind stirred.

For his part, Shadow Walker was sure their “mystery guest” was human. At first, he considered that it might be a small child from the Veritas hiding among the old stems of the blackberry bush hoping to overhear some adult talk that could be shared with friends. It would be a secret kind of knowledge and the child would gain status but providing this little seed of truth. His friends would plant that seed in their play activity and eventually try to grow a story, or even a whole moon’s worth of inter-related stories. A smile flitted across his face as he recalled doing this himself. As he re-neared the blackberry bush however, the sounds seemed too loud to be caused by the movements of a child. Whether child or adult or someone in between, the sounds were far too unskilled to be anyone from among the Veritas.

For her part, Many Paths considered a large, clumsy animal to be the most likely cause of the sound. She kept imagining various animals and dismissing them, one by one. At last, she was left with an odd sensation. What is this thing, she wondered. It’s clumsy, large, but … apparently wants to stay hidden. It can’t be a boar who would simply crash out. She noticed the teeny hairs on the back of her neck stood up as though a sudden chill wind stirred.

In a single moment: a scrambling figure in a dark cloak; a trap sprung, the jaws snapped together; scrambling, strong but ineffective struggler; same figure pinned by Shadow Walker while Many Paths stood near with long knife close enough to the stranger’s face that he could not avoid seeing it. “Who are you?” Shadow Walker insisted but the stranger screamed something back that was completely unintelligible. Shadow Walker looked at his adversary more closely and realized that he seemed vaguely familiar. He glanced at Many Paths. “This man is Z-Lotz or at least is dressed as one. This is exactly how the priests dressed. I saw a few on execution day. Some “priests” making a sport out of killing innocent people.” He turned back to the priest. “So, why are you here?” Then, he realized speaking in Veritas would not reveal much. He tried to think back to his time in captivity — and as king — where he had learned a bit of Z-Lotz. At last, he said haltingly, “You Z-Lotz. This is Veritas. You Z-Lotz. Why? Why you are here? What do you desire? Blackberries? I don’t think so!”

Many Paths glanced at Shadow Walker. His face: a storm front; his forearm ready for a deadly strike. “Shadow Walker, my dear heart. I do believe this man has some very useful information for us. I’m quite curious to hear his story, just like you. But let’s hear the story to see whether it satisfies us. If it does, we may chat still more. If and when his story gets woven into some web of lies, we will recreate this wonderful scene and you will be free to break his throat if you wish.” During this time, the arrow eyes of Many Paths connected completely with Shadow Walker. She did not even glance at the Z-Lotz.

Shadow Walker nodded, “Well said Many Paths. That is the wiser course. Now, who are you?” Shadow Walker grimaced as he remembered the language barrier and he repeated his last question in that tongue. “You name is?”

“OLIE” the subdued man replied.

Many Paths drew near. Removed her dagger from the sightline of OLIE but kept it close at hand. “I am curious how you came to be here. You must have a good tale to tell. It isn’t at all common to see an individual Z-Lotz. So, go on. Earn your dinner with your tale. We have more to offer than blackberries.”

Shadow Walker narrowed his eyes and stared at Many Paths. What is she doing, he asked himself. She’s being nice to him. Why? Another part of his brain was processing the reactions of the stranger. Many Paths is being nice on purpose. She thinks he may volunteer the truth. I should have thought of that as well. Then, once again, the thought struck him that he could be more effective in life, if he would sometimes ask himself, “What would Many Paths do?”

Shadow Walker’s attention now zoomed in on what the man OLIE was saying. Shadow Walker listened intently, but still couldn’t comprehend very well so he asked the man to supplement his telling with the more universal sign language. The stranger complied and Shadow Walker found he could apparently understand the basics of what was being said. Shadow Walker made it clear that he could get up and they would sit together but not to run. Here then, is OLIE’s tale. Shadow Walker translated to Many Paths.

“I was born, of course, in Read-It, the chief and most populous home of the Z-Lotz. My family was in the priest class and I did well in my studies so that I became a priest as well. I’m here basically because there is nowhere else to go. Read-It is gone. Z-Lotz are gone. I mean, most are. Many died in a plague. Then, we — ?! You are he! You are the king who left! Never in history has someone volunteered to step down. There was much chaos about the line of succession. Finally, the priests stepped in and said, “Look. This is absurd. We’re killing each other off. We should all work together as one team. When he said, ‘all’ he meant men. Men. Not women. So, the priests took over, including me. But soon, women started rebelling. The priests had gone too far, and fighting and chaos broke out. Many wanted to kill the priests. I barely escaped with my life! I didn’t have time to even grab my robes. I only had a simple shirt. But I found this on a dead priest. I looked at him and thought how that could be me. I took his cloak. I was hungry. I ate some blackberries. Then I heard someone coming. You two. So, I hid among the blackberry stems.”

To Shadow Walker the story seemed plausible, but he knew that plausibility did not make it true. It could just as well be that he’s really here to find out where our defenses are, how many of us are there, what are good places to attack from. Or, he could be bearing another sort of poison for us — different but equally effective as the last nasty stuff they left behind. He glanced at Many Paths. If she were having similar thoughts, nothing in her face gave such thoughts away. Shadow Walker realized that his own face was not so well trained as that of Many Paths. He replaced his angry face with an inscrutable one. Over the next few minutes, Shadow Walker noticed both that OLIE continued to become apparently more relaxed and that after he put a neutral face on, OLIE began to glance at him as well.

At the same time, Shadow Walker decided he would test whether OLIE truly understood Veritas. He added this phrase to his translation to Many Paths: “I wonder whether we’d be better off torturing him for information. That’s what they do.” He carefully observed the face of the priest and saw no clue there that OLIE had understood. Many Paths frowned and then her eyes widened. Shadow Walker added quickly, “Sorry. I was just testing whether he knows Veritas.” Again, he looked carefully at OLIE and saw no sign that he did.

After a long silence, Many Paths spoke, using Shadow Walker as her interpreter. She said that she appreciated his story. She said that she would like to learn more about the Z-Lotz. She said that she would like to invite him to a dinner where he could feast on more than blackberries. But she explained that not everyone in her tribe would be immediately trusting of the Z-Lotz. She described the strange stuff that had been given as a “gift” but that destroyed the arms of Stone Chipper. She described the plague which had nearly killed one of the tribe elders, their former chief, She Who Saves Many Lives. She did not describe how her own brother T-Swift had been stolen by the ROI as part of their agreement with the Z-Lotz.

“I see. Yes.” OLIE’s reply seemed insightful, yet blind. Shadow Walker & Many Paths waited for him to elaborate; perhaps, even to apologize. OLIE made no move to flee, nor did he seem to show any interest in conversing. He glanced back at the blackberry bush. Despite the predations of at least the three of them, there were still plenty of berries left.

Many Paths smiled. “Let us return to the Center Place of the Veritas. I will introduce you to a few people first and explain your circumstances so that you will be safe. In order to do that, and ensure your safety, it will necessary to know a little more. Do you believe you are being pursued by any of the Z-Lotz?”

OLIE made a quick, almost ritual, shake of his head. “No. No-one would bother. People are hungry and tired of fighting as well. For a short time, it seemed as though we might conquer the disease. Just as you said.” Here, the man looked directly at Shadow Walker. “But, you see, there was the matter of who was to be leader. After you left, fighting broke out. Many wanted to claim the throne. The fighting meant … everyone got close to everyone and there was little time for medicine or rest. Some few, including me, never got sick. We may have claimed…some may have claimed that it was because they followed God’s directives more fervently. At first, this sounded like a good plan. Many tried to be more pious, but they got sick anyway. And, then, they became quite angry with us. At first, they were angry at the priests who had given such useless advice, but the anger spread to all priests.”

OLIE paused and looked down. Shadow Walker & Many Paths glanced at each other. “The priests are perhaps responsible partly. But…” He glanced at Shadow Walker. “When you left so suddenly and unexpectedly….it made everything worse. We didn’t know what to do. We made up new rules and tried to give the men privileges. They were pleased, but eventually, it backfired. Too much violence. My faith…? I don’t know. I don’t know. But without the Book, without God, what is there? Once the people stopped doing what we said, how could they be in tune with God. Imagine what would happen to your people with no-one to tell them how to interpret the Book.”

Many Paths looked intently at OLIE’s face. She was astounded. Many Path saw no hint that OLIE was trying to deceive her. Yet, it seemed to her impossible that the Z-Lotz, or at least this one, would know so little about the people they made their enemy. She frowned. Could they possibly know that the Veritas had no real “Priest Class”? Could it be that the Z-Lotz hadn’t known that the Veritas were ignorant of books until a few months ago? Or, that everyone among the Veritas created or discovered their own relationship to the Great Tree of Life? She took a deep breath. She tried not to scoff at OLIE’s apparent ignorance but instead to use it as a guide to reflecting on her own ignorance:

What had I, or indeed, any of the Veritas, known even a few years ago about the Z-Lotz or the ROI or the Cupiditas? About the Fierce and Formidable warriors from the frigid north or the Nomads of the desert? We Veritas had not even known for certain that there were more Veritas on the other side of the mountain.

Many Paths thought back to the empathy test that required them to try to see the world through the eyes of various animals. Even before those tests for the Rings, every hunter learned the ways of those who would be prey or predator. How was it then that the Veritas as well as the Z-Lotz had learned so little of the ways of their neighbors?

—————

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Second Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Third Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Fourth Ring of Empathy

Math Class: Who are you?

Dance of Billions

The Declaration of Interdependence

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A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Author Page on Amazon

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Myths of the Veritas: A Pattern Language

12 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in politics, psychology, Veritas

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Tags

collaboration, Coopearatoin, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legends, myths, short story, story, Veritas, writing

Many Paths rose. Shadow Walker enfolded her in his strong arms and she returned the gesture. He stepped back, still holding both her hands in his and smiled as he spoke. “Come with me! I’ve got something to show you!”

Many Paths tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Can it wait? I’ve just been talking with She Who Saved Many Lives. I’ve got the work on setting up our meeting with the other tribes. So much needs to be done.” She sighed and bit her lip. “So much to do, but I’m not sure what comes next.”

Shadow Walker could see that she was concerned. He frowned sympathetically. Suddenly, Shadow Walker chuckled.

“What joke is this that brings laughter to your heart?” Asked Many Paths. “I’m serious. There’s much work to be done.”

“I never thought of this before, but — Many Tribes. Many Paths. You see? Just as you yourself think of many ways to do things — many more than most of us have patience for — so too do the various tribes try many paths of how to live.”

The eyes of Many Paths grew wide. “Yes! Of course! I never saw it before either! It’s just the same, in a way. Maybe that is a good way to explain it to the many tribes I hope to convene. It is in keeping with the wisdom of the tale of the Forgotten Field. We don’t necessarily have to agree on every path we take; we just have to be sure that we work together when we must.”

Shadow Walker laughed again. “That’s what I was thinking. Just because of your name.” Many Paths and Shadow Walker gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment and he squeezed her hands. After a pause, he continued. “But that is not what I came to tell you. Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes have discovered a book that has many recipes for making the kind of meeting that you wish to convene with the many tribes. You should come see for yourself!”

Many Paths frowned again. “How can that be?”

Shadow Walker smiled and now Many Paths smiled as well. She sensed that the sunny mood of Shadow Walker would not be clouded by her worry. But she looked at her mate askance. “I still don’t see how a book from long ago can be so well-suited to my current task at hand.”

“Come with me, love, and judge for yourself. It appears that you may not be the first person to think about how best to cooperate, after all.”

Many Paths snorted. “You will not be deterred I see, so yes, let’s go see this book you claim will help.”

Shadow Walker smiled again. “Yes! And, if I am wrong, and the book is useless, you and I will have a pleasant walk on a beautiful day and we’ll have a chance to see your brother and his friend, Cat Eyes.

Shadow Walker and Many Paths soon arrived at the hidden entryway that Trunk of Tree had accidentally discovered while stalking a deer. This hidden path connected the Veritas who had so long lived separately on the two sides of the snowy mountain. They arrived in the Village of the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. They were greeted warmly. Their kin on this side of the mountain felt fully committed to having a meeting with all the tribes.

Many Paths happened to spy a group of elders chatting excitedly. As she guessed, this signaled that the presence of Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes. Many of the Veritas on this side of the snowy mountain had now learned how to read the strange markings arranged in books. In the center of the group, she smiled to see her young brother, Tu-Swift. She called out his name and he smiled broadly and waved for her to come join the group. She noticed that though the group included many elders, there were also people of every age, even children of no more than six or seven summers. Gradually, the people so gathered noticed Many Paths and Shadow Walker approaching. Tu-Swift & Cat Eyes came out to greet them. Tu-Swift smiled broadly as he greeted her. “I see Shadow Walker brought you already! Come! Look what we’ve begun to read!” He held out one of the hundreds of books that had been recently discovered. At first glance, the book looked just like the others, but then she noticed that it had an elaborate symmetrical drawing on the cover.

Tu-Swift & Cat Eyes had become proficient at reading. He could hardly constrain himself as Many Paths sounded out the markings on the cover as she read the title aloud, “A Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation.” Tu-Swift could not wait any longer so he began showing her the various chapters. “Look! It’s a whole book to help you with your meeting with the other tribes! Here, look! It is a whole book of recipes or patterns for helping people to better collaborate! Here’s one called ‘Who Speaks for Wolf.’ Another one: ‘The Rule of Six’ and here. Look! Another: ‘Small Successes Early.’

He showed her the pages one after another. Many Paths barely had time to read the titles before Tu-Swift jumped to the next one. There were dozens! Tu-Swift laughed. “Can you believe our good fortune? This should help us with the meeting, right?”

Many Paths hugged her brother and then smiled broadly at Shadow Walker as she assented.
“Yes. These — these Patterns — they seem that they would be a big help. But it will take me time to read these. I am not so swift at reading as you are brother. But thank you for finding these. Can I borrow this book until I have had time to read them all?”

Cat Eyes said, “Of course. But we have come up with another plan. See what you think. Tu-Swift and I will take turns reading them to you. You and Shadow Walker can listen and then we — and some number of interested Veritas should discuss each one before we go on to the next. We have to see which ones might best work for the meeting, but also for before the meeting and after the meeting. It’s clear from the book of Patterns that an effective meeting depends on what you do before the meeting begins and after as well, not just what happens during a meeting. What do you say?”

Many Paths let out a long slow breath. “I did not come prepared for such a thing. I thought we would go back this very day. That’s what Shadow Walker led me to believe.” She stared at her mate.

Shadow Walker’s good mood could not be dampened. He shook his head. “I had no inkling that Tu-Swift wanted us to stay for an extended discussion. I think it’s a good idea though. Here’s another. I will walk back and get whatever you need. We don’t both need to go.”

Tu-Swift interjected, “I have an even better idea. I’ve already read most of the book. Let Cat Eyes begin reading these Patterns to you and then you can discuss. Meanwhile, I’ll go back and get anything you really need although I can’t really imagine … we have everything you need right here, Many Paths.”

Many Paths shook her head. “Is your leg that well heeled already? Why not send someone … someone unhurt?”

Tu-Swift laughed. “You mean someone faster. There is no-one faster.”

Shadow Walker’s face finally managed its own frown. “That can’t be true. You surely can’t be the fastest runner here yet. You’re still on the mend.”

Tu-Swift smiled, “Ah, yes. I am still on the mend. But who said I would be running back?” His eyes twinkled.

Many Paths pursed her lips. “If you’re not running…. Ah! But you have continued to learn how to ride horses haven’t you?!”

Tu-Swift smiled at his sister and nodded vigorously. “Correct!”

Many Paths sighed. “You are amazing, dear brother. But you are right. I don’t really need anything. But the people should know.”

Cat Eyes said, “Some of the people here, including my parents, were going to visit later this afternoon for trade. They can take a message to your people.”

All agreed. Many Paths gave her message to and they all found comfortable places to sit. Tu-Swift began reading the first Pattern.

—————————

A Pattern Language for Cooperation and Collaboration

Author Page on Amazon

Listen you can hear the Echoes of your Actions

The Declaration of Interdependence

The Only “Them” that counts is all of us

The Watershed Virus

Ghosts of Flowers Past

We’re all in this together

Take Me For A Ride in the Car Car!

06 Thursday Aug 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, essay, family, leadership, management, politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized

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collaboration, cooperation, Democracy, Dictatorship, essay, news, politics, problem solving, Ukraine, USA, writing

Do you remember the song, “Take me for a ride in the car car”? Here’s a link to one popular version. Peter, Paul, & Mary also sang it. Nice song. But you may have experienced it being repeated too often. At a certain age, some kids seem to discover that they can be really annoying simply by singing a song over and over and over and over.

When I was in my early teens, I took a car trip with my Uncle Paul and his wife and three (at that time) kids out to see his brother Bob who headed up a psychiatric hospital in Pennsylvania. It was a long drive. At some point, to pass the time, we sang some songs. When the last song was over, Paul’s youngest son began to make up new verses for one of the songs. At first, it was rather cute to watch him try to build a story, rhyme, and keep in tune. He actually succeeded at none of these, but it was still cute.

At first.

But after about a quarter hour, he began to annoy a few people with his off-key, non-rhyming, senseless continuations of the song. After about a half hour he was annoying everyone. After an hour, we began to discuss leaving him by the side of the road and returning in another ten years to see whether he was still there.

On car trips, we used to play a number of games to pass the time; e.g., seeing how many different states license plates we found find. Later, I learned to play “The Alphabet Game.” There are several versions, but basically, you must find, in order, the letters of the alphabet from passing cars, signs, etc. Stuff inside your own car cannot be used. (You could easily find all the letters in a book or magazine). I’ve learned to know where to look for J, Q, and Z. I’ve been in cars where we played twenty questions, Botticelli, Buzz, and Ghost. When I was a kid, I also simply looked out the window to entertain myself. Sometimes, I would imagine that the dotted lines that divide the lanes were like tracer bullets shot from our car. Then, I would watch to see whether another car got “blown up” because they crossed our fire. I would also imagine myself “flying” alongside the car, having to bob and weave to avoid telephone poles, trees, signposts, etc.

Traveling in a car with a family or with a group of friends or your car pool is potentially a social opportunity as well as an opportunity to save money. Since you’re in the same car, you need to agree on destination. To some extent, you need to agree on temperature & what to do about the windows. As a kid, everyone also lived in the same “sonic space.” We would have to “agree” on a game or on a radio station. This is no longer the case. Now, often times, everyone in the family may have their own individual entertainment. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Even in the modern day, driving in a car with others is different from driving in a car on your own. If you’re by yourself, you can decide on the temperature and entertainment without having to take into account anyone else’s wishes. If others are in the car, some kind of negotiations have to take place.

At least, that’s what most people do. You could decide: “Hey! It’s my car so I’m going to drive and I get to determine everything about our common space — temperature, entertainment, windows, whether we stop, etc.” This is what is known in academic circles as the “A$$hole theory of cooperation”: Get everything you possibly can for yourself and to hell with everyone else. And after all, they’re doing the same exact thing.

Notice too that to some degree, the amount of accommodation you have to do depends on how much humanity is in the car besides yourself. It also depends on how “luxurious” your vehicle is. If you have a tour bus or a camper, six people might be relatively comfortable. If it’s a VW bug, you won’t be. You’ll not only be crowded; you’ll have to be careful every time you move not to accidentally elbow someone in the eye. Have you ever been in that crowded of a situation for hours at a time or even days at a time?

It isn’t just cars. In general, the more people occupy a given space, the more they are going to have to cooperate in order to survive and thrive. You can provide individuality support with technology, up to a point. In a way, clothing is like that. We can peacefully co-exist in a car without either of us compromising our comfort because I can wear a sweater and you can wear a thin shirt. You can provide everyone an iPhone and everyone can play their own game without having to agree on a common game. Of course, there’s a downside to that. First, we don’t have practice getting along with others. Second, we don’t share a common experience.

Even if the “typical” family of four interrupts their car trip and stops for lunch and agrees to talk, they are likely coming from very different places. Dad has been listening to Mozart and was in good mood until he suddenly remembered he was supposed to have sent out a memo to everyone in the department about last month’s sales figures. Damn. Maybe he can do it from the Motel but it will take longer than it would have at work. His son Sam, meanwhile, was trying to use sexting to convince his girlfriend to “take their relationship to the next level.” As a result, they just broke up. Dad doesn’t know a thing about that; nor does Sam know anything about why Dad suddenly seems put out. Mom meanwhile, was listening to Fox “News” where she “learned” that it’s Biden’s fault Putin “had to” attack the Ukraine because Biden was too tough on Russia and also too easy. Her daughter Sally, on the other hand, has spent the last 45 minutes on twitter learning about the Putin invasion. She is wondering whether atomic war might start.

Now, they stop for lunch. That’s nice. And, maybe they’ll talk about something common; perhaps the weather, or the scenery or the food. But they might just revert to what they were doing before they got together at the restaurant. Even if they all have the willpower to put away their personal devices, they are still coming from very different places emotionally and experientially. Dad might make a comment about how he forgot to write an important e-mail and he’ll have to do it from the Motel. Sam just shakes his head and says, “Important e-mail? My life is ruined! What do you care?”

Dad might say, “What do you mean by saying that your life is ruined?”

Sam might even share, “Jackie broke up with me!”

Dad, meaning well, and wanting to offer a solution before he starts reminiscing about his own high school days, blurts out: “Oh, Sam, don’t worry about it! You’ll have another girlfriend in a week.”

That may well be empirically true. But to Sam? He feels he has just lost the love of his life. His father’s comment seems to him to be dismissive of his feelings to the point of cruelty.

Sally pipes up, “How can you be worried about such trivial things as e-mail and dates when we might be blown to smithereens at any moment? Do you ever pay any attention to the world outside yourself? Putin is a monster killing innocent civilians so he can slake the thirst of his pathetic ego!”

Mom is taken aback. The only news she doesn’t dismiss as “lies that are out to get Trump” has been Fox “News” for the last few years. She says, “Don’t be saying bad things about Putin! He’s a nice man who just wants his Ukraine back.”

Sally’s jaw drops. “Are you serious! He kills journalists who write the truth about him. He’s a corrupt crime lord. He played Trump like a fiddle … no … not that complicated … played him like a drum … no … still too complicated … played him like the triangle. You know. Bang it every once in awhile and it reverberates. Anyway, it isn’t “his” Ukraine. It belongs to the Ukrainian people!”

Some families are better at getting through all this than others. These four have not shared a common experience and are coming from very different places. If they have no practice playing a game according to a common set of rules, what chance to they have to settle deeper differences?

Maybe avoiding little conflicts by giving everyone their own personal entertainment device means that when much bigger and more difficult conflicts arise, no-one remembers how to resolve things. Why shouldn’t everything by how I want it? Let others do the same! Let the best man win!

Except, of course, it isn’t the best man or woman who actually wins in a land where no-one plays by the rules. It’s the most corrupt. And the net result of everyone spending so much time competing and so little, if any, time cooperating is that nothing much is actually accomplished. It doesn’t even work very well in a small group. In a large nation, a dictatorship is almost invariably associated with less for everyone except the dictator and the immediate surround. Dictatorships do sometimes manage to steal from neighbors who are productive because they are cooperative. If all countries were dictatorships, they would all perish, probably in atomic war, but possibly in ecological collapse or just mass suicide.

In 2018, I worked on a “Pattern Language” for collaboration and cooperation. Here’s a link to an index of the Patterns. One of them is called “Small Successes Early.” Should I be worried that we seem to be moving into a world where there are fewer and fewer opportunities for peacefully resolving small conflicts? Avoiding unnecessary conflict seems like a good thing. But … is the downside that people have no practice resolving conflicts? And, is the further downside that people eventually end up with huge differences in their notions of reality when it really matters? It seems to be the very thing that Faux News has been counting on; that people would not only listen to them but not listen or dismiss any other views. As a result, people end up with very different models and explanations of the world. That is always a bad thing, but in a world where people are unpracticed at resolving conflicts, it’s even more problematic.

There is always a tradeoff between cooperating as a whole and letting each individual do as they wish. One thing seems crystal clear. As the number of people in your car increases, their individual freedom to do just as they please decreases. So, too, with the world. In my own lifetime, the population of the world has quadrupled. Of course, it’s not equally distributed. People are more concentrated in cities than ever before. Many of these cities are located on ocean coasts. What does the continuation of global warming mean to population migration and crowding?

Remember the COVID pandemic? I’m not sure how many people realize this, but we’re likely to see other pandemics. If people were very sparsely populated, we probably wouldn’t be at risk. But as we continue to get more crowded, humanity will become more susceptible to pandemics. That in turn, means people will have to accommodate to each other’s needs. As a background rule, a person can choose to wear what they want. There are, of course, many exceptions to that. In many situations, you have to wear a shirt and shoes. In some situations, you have to wear a suit and tie or a uniform. If you might be spraying germs at other people, it seems totally reasonable to change your behavior or clothing to minimize that spread. But some people apparently think that they should be able to do exactly as they want regardless of the consequences to others.

Toddlerhood Nation

As the earth becomes more crowded, we need to be more cooperative, not less. The presence of a large number of deadly weapons also makes it more important to cooperate. The race to ensure survival by having ever larger numbers of ever more deadly weapons is not a path toward that greater cooperation. Dictators, for instance, tilt toward war to consolidate their power. A world with zero dictators wouldn’t necessarily be at peace, but when there are dictators or people seeking to become dictators, there will certainly be wars.

In a crowded car, people need to accommodate each other. Under a dictatorship, you quite possibly won’t own a car, but even if you do, there will only be a few or even one channel of “entertainment.” One song will be sung: a song of praise for “Der Fooler” and more than likely, it won’t be high quality in terms of rhyme, logic, music, or lyrics. The singer will be the one who bribes or cajoles the parasite(s) in charge.

Create Peace

Author Page on Amazon

Absolute is not just a vodka

Where does your loyalty lie?

My Cousin Bobby

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Myths of the Veritas: The Three Blind Mice

Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

When Greed is the only Creed

At Least he’s Our Monster

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Dance of Billions

The Great Remembering

27 Saturday Jun 2026

Posted by petersironwood in apocalypse, fantasy, fiction, leadership, nature, politics, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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books, collaboration, cooperation, fantasy, fiction, leadership, legend, myth, short story, story, Veritas, writing

Trunk of Tree had been in a foul mood. Hunger made his belly growl. He had had terrible luck even trying to track a deer. But the sight of these two Veritas, well-known to him, and the smell of cooking venison lightened his mood considerably. He said none of that, but instead asked again how they found him.

Cat Eyes explained quickly to Trunk of Tree that they were near her village. She explained that a feast was being prepared right now in honor of the knowledge that had been gained from decoding a substantial part of the great library that had been recently discovered. The Veritas had split up the work of decoding the numerous tomes in the library. It was far too much for any one person although, among all the Veritas, Cat Eyes knew the most of what had been garnered by the people. She had been sharing much of what she learned with Tu-Swift. Now, she explained, a great feast had been arranged and the afternoon was to be spent eating and listening to the lessons that had been gleaned. In the evening, the people planned to reflect on the totality of this information in a great dialogue.

Cat Eyes explained all this to Trunk of Tree as they took the short hike back to the place where he had emerged from the hidden cleft in the rock wall. Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes marked the place with broken branches and a small rock cairn so they could be sure to find it later.

Then, the trio strode back to the center place of the Veritas across the Mountain. Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift kept having to stop for Trunk of Tree to catch up. At last, Cat Eyes said, “Trunk of Tree. All you all right? You are limping. You are wounded? What happened? I see a bandage and blood. Were you attacked?”

Trunk of Tree’s mood darkened again. He did not want to explain how he had wounded himself through his anger and carelessness. “I’m fine. Just a scratch.” He swallowed hard. The truth was that the wound was not healing all that well. He grimaced and tried to keep up with the youngsters so they wouldn’t ask any more about his gash.

The reappearance of Cat Eyes caused more of a stir than usual when people noticed that Trunk of Tree was with them. When he explained briefly how he had come here, the Veritas from the other side of the mountain furrowed their brows. How could a passage out of their valley exist so near that no-one had discovered? Even Trunk of Tree could perceive the skepticism on their faces. He explained that he had only come across the path by sheer accident born of desperate hunger pangs. Tu-Swift explained to the small group how he had marked the trail and three of them jogged off to see for themselves.

Soon, Tu-Swift, Cat Eyes, and Trunk of Tree were seated on overturned tree trunks. People kept coming to Cat Eyes with small questions about the upcoming feast. As she answered their questions, she simultaneously pulled up the pant leg of Trunk of Tree, ignoring his protestations that nothing was wrong with him. He was immensely powerful and could have easily kicked her away. Although a part of his mind pictured that, some more fundamental part seemed to know that his leg was more important than his pride so he let her unwrap the bandages.

When she did so, her nose wrinkled up immediately. She glanced at Tu-Swift who noticed it as well. The wound stunk. Just then a young warrior came up to Cat Eyes meaning to ask her opinion about her role in the upcoming knowledge exchange. Cat Eyes answered curtly and then begged the young warrior to bring her the pouch of blue-green mold that sat in a dark corner of Cat Eye’s cabin. Soon, Cat Eyes was applying the mold to the oozing wound of Trunk of Tree despite his objections.

“I already put yellow dock and plantain on it,” he protested.

“Yes,” replied Cat Eyes, “and that is good. This is even better. We learned about it from one of the many books in the library. There are many things we learned from those books and you will hear about many of those things tonight. I wish all of the Veritas were here to learn what we have decoded in the last few months.”

Cat Eyes nodded as she noted that the sickness had not spread much from the original injury. She bound up the wound again. She glanced at Tu-Swift. She slowly shook her head. “It’s amazing how much of a great gift we have now from our library — and all the knowledge put there by our ancestors. And to think…it was there when my mother’s mother’s mother lived … and we had no idea what it was. Until now.”

Now, she turned to look at Trunk of Tree. She smiled. “You will see later today, Trunk of Tree, some of the things we have learned. She tilted her head. “There are things in there about fighting and strategy as well as medicine.” She paused, smiled and went on: “And, to use your imagination to make yourself happier and solve problems — not simply as a tool for hurting yourself.”

The eyes of Trunk of Tree widened thus confirming her hypothesis.

Trunk of Tree reddened. Cat Eyes reached out her hand and gently touched his shoulder. “It’s a tendency all of us have, Trunk of Tree. There’s no reason to feel embarrassed.

An awkward silence grew between them. She looked at Tu-Swift and back to Trunk of Tree.

Tu-Swift took a deep breath. “For example, when Cat Eyes came to visit our Center Place, I ran off to see her because…well, because I … because I love her.” Now Tu-Swift reddened as well. “Of course, everyone does. I … especially do. But then, Suze died shortly after and I made myself crazy thinking I had somehow been responsible. I didn’t cause her death. That plague though was brought to us intentionally by the Z-Lotz. They’re the ones I should seek revenge on and not on myself. He looked at the face of Trunk of Tree very carefully, the way he imagined that Many Paths would do if she were here.

“I can tell you this, Trunk of Tree. I’ve known Shadow Walker all my life. As have you. And, we know Eagle Eyes as well. They are both good people. They will do … whatever they think is best for the Veritas … and for all the people.” Tu-Swift let this thought sink in through the thick skull of Trunk of Tree. He surprised himself by his next words. “Sometimes, we must be apart from those we love. It’s always difficult. But don’t make it worse by imagining things that you know are not true. I don’t know why, but Eagle Eyes likes you. Surely, you must know that.”

Cat Eyes nodded solemnly. “That’s right. Shadow Walker & Eagle Eyes — these are people we can all trust. Trust is fundamental. You’ll hear more about that at our feast. The destruction of trust is what led to the destruction of … of civilization.”

Trunk of Tree frowned. “Civilization? What are you talking about?”

Cat Eyes sighed. “Just listen to our stories tonight. It’s … there were many people … and many wondrous things … but the people lost the one thing more important than all the others.”

Tu-Swift saw the tears welling up in her cat-irised eyes. “They let their greed, fear, and hate grow … and their love for each other … and for all life … they let that decay … and when it did, it all fell apart. The words that people said came to mean nothing. All trust was lost. And, Trunk of Tree, when all trust was lost, all the energy of the people was put into weapons. Killing sticks were replaced by even less honorable weapons that killed hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands. The people thought that somehow, if they hurt others enough, they themselves would live forever, not as part of the great tree of life, but as something separate and apart, as hard as the mountains and as mighty and as immortal. So did the people come to think.

“The times came of great killing.

“The times came of great forgetting.”

The voice of Cat Eyes became stronger and though she spoke to Trunk of Tree, all the people nearby heard her and drew near to her.

“Now, we are beginning the time of great remembering;

“The great remembering of who we are;

“The great remembering of what we are not;

“The great remembering of what makes us a whole people;

“The great remembering of the importance of truth and trust;

“The great remembering of the horror and sorrow that comes of the many being misled by the few;

“The great remembering of what we could become instead;

“The great remembering that each of us is ourselves but one marvelous leaf on the great abiding tree of life;

“The great remembering that we cannot make ourselves into something separate and forever by destroying the tree that sustains us.”

Cat Eyes stood and took the hands of Tu-Swift.

Drums began to play and the people began to sing.

Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift began to dance.

All the people began to join in the dance.

———————————————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Index to a Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Only Them that Matters is All of Us

The Dance of Billions

Author Page on Amazon

The Healing Tea

12 Friday Jun 2026

Posted by petersironwood in creativity, family, fantasy, fiction, health, leadership, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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collaboration, family, fiction, grief, leadership, legends, loss, myths, pandemic, peace, story, Veritas, writing

When Many Paths awoke, she felt strong, as though the life force within her had replenished itself. She glanced over at She Who Saved Many Lives and frowned. The old Shaman’s rapid shallow breaths rasped. Her skin appeared to be covered with chiggers or orange bloated deer ticks. The rash of the red plague — that’s what really caused it. Many Paths swung her legs out and stood. A momentary dizziness swept over her. She remembered the healing medicine. Hopefully, Tu-Swift had left some on the porch as requested. She pulled aside the skins from the entry door but nothing had been prepared. Maybe Tu-Swift had also fallen ill, she thought.

She decided to gather the necessary plants herself and ask those she met along the way whether they had seen Tu-Swift. She met surprisingly few on her way to the riverbank and none of them had seen Tu-Swift. As she crested a small hill and began her descent to the stand of yellow dock, she heard crying. The voice of Tu-Swift. She came upon him silently. He sat on the bank of the river, his arms cradled tightly across his knees. He rocked back and forth slowly and sobbed quietly. She whispered his name, first softly and then more insistently.

He remained unresponsive while she sat beside him and put her arm around him, rocking slowly with him and softly singing one of the grief songs of the Veritas. After a time, he began shaping his sobs into song and singing with her. At first, his voice cracked a lot, but soon his voice grew more even and rhythmic.

When the song drew to a close, Tu-Swift stopped rocking and spoke to his sister, still staring into the roiling waters of the nearby river. “I killed her. I should not have left her. I thought…I thought maybe Cat Eyes had returned. So, I left Sooz. And now she’s dead.”

“She is and I am very sorry. It is not your fault, however. She died from this nasty red plague. And, I hate to say it, but She Who Saves Many Lives may be next if we don’t get her some medicine. And soon. Did you gather any of the ingredients already, dear brother?”

“Ingredients? Oh! That’s why I came here. I thought of — Sooz and I — we played together right over there in the pond. When I came here, I thought of her and — I could not think of else. But you’re right. We need medicine.” He arose, wobbled a little, and then went down to the stand of yellow dock.

Many Paths spoke to him, “Tu-Swift, you gather the yellow dock, I’m going up that hill to the elderberries. I still have rose hips. I’ll go back and minister to She Who Saves Many Lives. You should continue to stay distant. Tu-Swift, I know you miss Sooz, but now we need to concentrate all our energy on saving those who yet remain alive. I am worried about the mother of the tribe and also about Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker. They may not return — all the more urgent to save such lives as we can.”

Tu-Swift did not turn to look at Many Paths, but he nodded his head silently and began harvesting the yellow dock. Many Paths climbed the small hill and began using her hands to rake the entire umbel of elderberries from one stalk after another. As she did so, she imagined that each stalk was a different tribe. What might it be like, she wondered, to sit down and talk among six tribes. How could it not just be chaos? There would have to be rules, she decided, and everyone would have to agree to the rules and to kick out any tribe who did not follow the rules.

Many Paths finished quickly and plod back down to the riverbank. Tu-Swift had finished as well. He did not look cheerful, but he did look as though, at least for now, he had decided to rejoin the world of the living. They strode back up to the village and boiled more tonic for She Who Saves Many Paths. As they worked, Many Paths related to him the plan to get all six tribes together in a single Great Dialogue.

“I have been imagining, Tu Swift,” she explained “that we should contact each of these tribes separately first, to see whether they would participate and to understand what each tribe sees as a possible benefit and also so that we might know of any concerns they have.”

Tu-Swift agreed that this approach made sense. “Do you think it matters which tribes you contact first?”

“I do, but I am not sure yet of the right order. I do think though that we should start with the Veritas beyond — I mean — the Veritas on the other side of the Twin Peaks.”

Tu-Swift tilted his head at this comment and looked at his sister quizzically.

“Yes, I think you should definitely be one of those to visit our cousins. But first, we need to get those Veritas of the Center Place healthy — those who can be. Some considerable thought is needed to … to build … a plan about how to conduct such a large meeting.”

Many Paths continued. “All tribes must agree to meet and to tell the truth, and of course, not to fight, or give such “gifts” as those the Z-Lotz last gave to bring sickness and death. I have been thinking also of how our lives relate to the lives of others. We are like … each of us has a different path. And, we learn along these different paths and we come to Dialogue with each other and we learn from those who took different paths and we teach others about our paths.”

Tu-Swift nodded. “Yes. And — and even when someone — even when someone dies. They have changed our life and taught us things and shown us things…. I learned so much from Sooz. I miss her, Many Paths. I miss Sooz. And, I also miss Cat Eyes.”

Many Paths spoke gently. “I know. I know you do. Cat Eyes you may see again in the flesh but Sooz you will meet only in your dreams and in your heart. And there is a part of you that is her. By being aware of how we are all inter-connected, not just all of us within the Veritas, but how also the Veritas — we are not — we would not be what we are except for other Tribes. And humanity itself would not be humanity without the trees, the birds, the vines, the fish. Just as we cannot put ourselves as more important than our tribe, we cannot put our tribe above all of the tribes. We cannot put humanity above all of the rest of life. It makes no sense.”

The tea was ready so Many Paths asked Tu-Swift to prepare more for others who may be in need but to keep his distance from those who were ill. Many Paths herself set off for the Old Mother and as she walked, she sang a new song.

“It is foolish to put Humanity above The Great Tree of Life.

It is foolish to put Tribe above Humanity.

It is foolish to put your own Family above the Tribe.

It is foolish to put your own Person-Life above your own Family.

It is foolish to put your temporary pleasure of a moment above your own Person-Life.”

She pulled aside the curtain and She Who Saved Many Lives had apparently propped herself up to take tea. Her voice cracked as she spoke, but there was still a lively child’s twinkle in her ancient yellow eyes as she said, “Indeed you are right, Many Paths. It is childish, foolish, or crazy to put the part above the whole.” The Ancient Shaman laughed a laugh which was part cough, but no less genuine for that.

The Old One spoke again. “And indeed, you are the leader this tribe needs. If you please, a little tea, and then I must rest again. I cannot say for how long.”

——————————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Math Class: Who Are You? (An essay on the inter-connectedness of all life).

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior (the ‘mental game’ for all sports including tennis, golf, softball, football, etc.)

Turing’s Nightmares (an exploration of the future of AI and what it means socially & ethically for humanity)

Fit in Bits (suggestions for fitting more variety, fun, and exercise into daily activities).

Tales from an American Childhood (autobiography & musings about then and now).

Index of a Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Myths of the Veritas: When Eagles Return

10 Friday Apr 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, politics, Uncategorized, Veritas

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collaboration, communication, cooperation, Democracy, empathy, fiction, honesty, leadership, legends, life, lying, myths, politics, stories, story, teamwork, truth, USA, Veritas, writing

Though the winged creature was hooded, Many Paths stretched her hand forth slowly and carefully so as not to startle the raptor away. As she did so, she imitated the screes of joy the eagles sang when they rode the air high above. She hoped that would work. It seemed to help to train the wolves. She missed them too! So many of her favorite people gone — and at her suggestion. To the task at hand, she ordered herself.

Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

It occurred to her at just this moment that perhaps the eagles were not singing for joy at all. Maybe they were exchanging information about the location of prey below! Or, maybe they were arguing about whose turn it was to have first go at devouring the body of the unlucky rabbit or mouse. Here I am, she chuckled, named Many Paths and still jumping to conclusions and taking the first line of thought that arises.

What else might they be? What do people do? People speak of things far beyond their immediate concerns. Do the animals? Do they tell each other stories? Make promises? Do they apologize? Do they try to trick each other? Well, they certainly do that!

Even as her mind raced about the challenges of cooperating with animals of a different species, her hand still slid steadily and smoothly to the target and she deftly undid the small knots. Now, she slowly withdrew her hand and murmured warmly to the raptor on her arm.

“Thank you, mighty eagle, for this word from afar.”

Photo by Anthony on Pexels.com

Many Paths recognized the cloth even before it was fully unrolled: the shred was from Eagle Eyes! The two of them had travelled together to gather the rare indigo gentian which Eagle Eyes had used to dye part of her smock.

Many Paths felt a sudden pull of connection to Eagle Eyes as she felt the cloth. She held it close and drew breath in through her nostrils. Perhaps it was only imagination but she caught the scent of Eagle Eyes. Something else was much stronger though! Soot. Fire. As she looked more closely, she could see that a tiny section of the cloth had been burned!

She of Many Paths felt that she had to share this new information with the tribe … and soon. First, she wanted to think what it might signify. Many Paths frowned. She wished that Eagle Eyes might have somehow drawn a map — possibly even including the positions of all of the companions of Eagle Eyes. She couldn’t tell whether Shadow Walker or Tu-Swift were all right. Why couldn’t she include cloth from them too…or their signs. She recalled with a smile the map that She Who Saves Many Lives had given her for their test for the First Ring of Empathy. But of course, that map was much too large to expect an eagle to carry very far.

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Many Paths strode toward the feast and tried to frame how she would present this. On the one hand, it was good news, but the news was ambiguous and incomplete. The fire part didn’t seem positive, but it was hard to tell. Too bad, she thought, that eagles couldn’t carry a better and more complete map. But the wolves could! Maybe they would bring more complete news. She felt a pang of affection for them as well as loss. She missed the wolves. Immediately, a much stronger feeling of missing flowed over her, for everyone, but especially Tu-Swift and Shadow Walker. She sighed and felt a big hollow inside, but then, the image of Shadow Walker came quite clearly to mind. She felt as though she could almost hear him talking though it seemed likely he was far away. The mind does play funny tricks sometimes, thought Many Paths, but it seems like he is telling me that my idea is right; we could communicate over distances by sending maps and symbols. Sounds a bit crazy, but why not? The wolves can track by a scent from something that is no longer there. What if we humans could learn to put a whole host of marks and scents on paper and then send it quickly via the wolves? She arrived at the feast and mentally placed this idea up on a branch of a tree she kept for “Interesting ideas to be thought about later.” For now it was time to reassure the people and tell them what she knew. For a split second, she considered the idea to pretend that she had simply “foreseen” that Eagle Eyes was all right and that there had been a fire. People might begin to believe she was magic and that could help focus the people to a purpose when the need became great. She could even weave a story that involved the “Magic Rings of Empathy.”

Now she smiled at the folly of that course. If she were successful in this lie — because exaggerating one’s own powers is always a lie — it would only encourage her to make even more outrageous lies in the future. The people cannot be led on a wise path with lies. That seems obvious.

Why then did she come up with such absurd courses of action? Maybe it was to continue to strengthen her resolve to do what was best for her people. For each time such a plot surfaced, at least so far, she had resisted the temptation. Mainly, she saw it was the wrong thing to do. Imagine that your eyes began lying to your toes about the position of a stone. Imagine that your mouth lied to your stomach and your hand lied to your mouth.

Even from a selfish standpoint, such exaggerations of her powers would be quite dangerous. She could be found out and lose all credibility with the tribe. Suppose someone believed that the Magic of Remote Sight arose from the Rings alone. Someone might contrive to steal those rings, with or without her fingers attached! If she shared the actual evidence she had, a shred of cloth, the whole tribe could apply their wisdom about likely interpretations. But if, instead, she presented her interpretation as fact, people could not think straight nor generate the full set of likely possibilities.

Beyond that, Many Paths knew that she could never fully enjoy and participate in the feast or in talking with her tribe mates if she knew she were telling them a lie. She would be — forever alone — even if they never found out. She would know she was lying. She would know. And that would put up a wall between them. No matter what someone said to her, she would have to “check to see” whether her answer would betray her. A moment’s lapse of ethics, thought She of Many Paths, could lead to a lifetime of cover-ups and further lies.

Instead, she took her place among warm greetings and admiration. She let it be known that she had some interesting news to share around the fire after their meal of venison and corn on the cob.

selective focus photography of grilled corns

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The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Orange Man: A Parable of Lying and Greed

The First Ring of Empathy (The Start of Book One)

Fire and Feast (The Start of Book Two)

An Essay on How we sometimes Confuse the Label with the Thing

Author Page on Amazon

Corn on the Cob (An Essay on Mindfulness and Gratitude)

At Least He’s Our Monster

Come Together Right Now

The Isle of Right

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Truth Train

A Lot is Not a Little

Absolute is not Just a Vodka

The Crows and Me

Guernica

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries: Mind Walk

Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Fifteen Properties

The “Not-See” Party

Myths of the Veritas: The Fourth Ring of Empathy

24 Saturday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in management, psychology, Uncategorized, Veritas

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collaboration, cooperation, diversity, empathy, family, fiction, leadership, learning, life, management, myth, Storytelling, strategy, tactics, teamwork, tests, trials, truth, Veritas, writing

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As was their wont, the Veritas celebrated each day but celebrated especially the completion of the harvest of the fullness of the fall. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, She-of-Many-Paths, Eyes-of-Eagle, Shade-Walker, Pond Mud, Alt-R, and all those who sought the rings of empathy and all those who did not participated as best they could in the harvest and in the celebration, for both harvest and celebration, they all knew, proved vital to the life of the Veritas.

The Veritas likewise celebrated the first snow, and She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives spent the winter carefully observing all among the tribe and especially the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes. She also began devising the next trial. And among the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes, all awaited the call to the next trial. One among those six, named Trunk-of-Tree, waited in stillness like the sleeping trees, silently wondering what the next test might be. One among those six, named Fleet-of-Foot, waited like a cloud letting the winds of chance and fortune shape his days and his thoughts. But four among those six, did not wait for the next words of She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives to prepare for the next test.

She-of-Many-Paths continued to study the Wolves and as she learned more about them, she became less afraid of them and they became less afraid of her, so much so that she observed them mating. When she observed this, she somehow wished that Shade-Walker was watching with her although this wish struck her as a strange one and her cheeks grew flushed.

animal animal photography canidae canine

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She-of-Many-Paths did not limit herself to trying to see through the eyes only of Wolf. In the long dark evenings of storytelling, she listened to the tales but tried to imagine each one through each being in the story, whether human, animal, lake, cloud, or tree. When she helped with harvests or any other task of Fall or Winter, she would try to learn from the wisdom of those who had done such tasks many times before. Some in the tribe jokingly though lovingly began to call her, She-of-Many-Questions.

Likewise, Eyes-of-Eagle continued to observe Eagles though her real passion had become shapes and what they signified. She wondered, among many such wonderings, why Acorn had a sharp point on the bottom. She tried dropping acorns in various ways and if they were dropped from sufficient height, they always landed point down. She imagined that she was a mighty oak and that the acorns were her babies. She liked it when they landed point down. It seemed the right thing.

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Eyes-of-Eagle watched also how water flowed around rocks. She discovered how to make dams and watched what happened when the dam was removed. She looked at the legs of running animals including her tribe-mates and saw how cleverly the shapes of all such legs flowed by each other without catching on each other. She saw the ways in which every snowflake was the same and the ways in which every snowflake was different. Eyes-of-Eagle also took notice of the changing shape of Shade-Walker whose arms and legs had become adorned with larger muscles.

Likewise, Shade-Walker became obsessed, not only with Snakes, but also with light and also with heat and how light became heat. He imagined what it was like to be light and what it was like to be heat. He noticed as well how many, but not all, animals and plants slept a long sleep when light and heat were less. He noticed how each animal and even sleeping plants made their own heat even when there was no light. He became more convinced that Snake could feel the heat of animals from a much greater distance than he himself could. In his noticing of heat and light, Shade-Walker began to notice the way that sunlight played in the hair of She-of-Many-Paths and in the hair of Eyes-of-Eagle. The sunlight in their hair brought warmth to his own body, and this he found mysterious.

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He whom the tribe called Easy-Tears continued to observe Squirrel. He was surprised to learn that Squirrel seemed to forget many of the places he had saved acorns and hickories and butternuts though he himself recalled each such one he had seen buried. He began to wonder whether Squirrels had their own language. When eagle, hawk, or owl flew nearby, it seemed to Easy-Tears that the first Squirrel who saw such a Squirrel-eater would warn the others. But was the chattering just a general warning such as “Beware! Beware!” or did the warning say where to look as well or say how far away such a Squirrel-eater was? Easy-Tears marveled at the way Squirrel could leap from branch to branch, just catching on to a far tree and nearly but never falling. On one such marveling however, during a thaw, he saw one such unlucky Squirrel miss a very high branch and fall onto a hard rock. This was a fall that Unlucky Squirrel did not recover from. Then, Easy-Tears watched through the thick boughs of a scented cedar as all of the friends of Unlucky Squirrel came to circle around him and look upon Unlucky Squirrel in chatter-less and respectful silence.

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She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives observed or otherwise knew how each of the Six prepared themselves, or not, for the next trial. But, this was not the limit of her knowledge and observations. She also followed with some close attention Pond Mud and Alt-R as well. Though both had failed the third test, their reactions were quite different. Pond Mud took no further interest in learning about ants. Indeed, he was often seen taking such a small person as an ant and crushing her between his fingers as though to prove his superior strength. This and his other actions indicated he was feeding the “Bad Wolf” within. He sometimes used his superior strength, not for the good of the Veritas, but to force his will upon others. Pond Mud seemed to think little of how he appeared through the eyes of Ant or indeed through the eyes of any other among the Veritas.

Alt-R however, seemed to realize that, smart as he was, he did not know all things and set himself to learning from the best weaver how to weave and from the best stone chipper how to chip stones and from the best tree hewer how to fell trees. In this way, he gradually learned how to see more clearly through the eyes of others. The Shaman felt that perhaps she had been too hasty in her judgement of Alt-R. She would continue to watch him with careful eyes and a careful heart.

At last, the icy snows and winds of winter withdrew and the speckled red and green heads of Skunk Cabbage appeared in the swamps and likewise, the slender rods of Garlic and Onion began to welcome the spring sun though their roots lay beneath melting snows. When at last, no snow or ice remained except on mountain peaks and in shady caves, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives called the Six-Who-See-With-Animal-Eyes to her.

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“As you all know,” began the Shaman, “the animals of the air, and the lakes, and the forests, and the plains are all different and each has their own skills and their own ways of knowing and seeing. So too, even among the Veritas, there are many different skills and many different ways of knowing how-to. Indeed, even among you six, I have observed that you have different flavors or colors of how-to.”

{Translator’s Note:} What follows is necessarily a very loose translation. The Veritas apparently had many words to describe the quality of what was made as well as how it was made. No-one to my knowledge has determined precisely how the various mind sets relate to what happens in terms of either what is produced or the experience of the production. I am not sure, for example, whether the word for the way of how-to for Fleet-of-Foot necessarily implies a sloppy end result as well as a result achieved quickly.

“Among you Six, Fleet-of-Foot likes to run quickly. But so too, does he do everything quickly. He has learned to gather acorns quickly. He has learned to weave quickly. His tongue is as quick as his feet as you have all no doubt noticed.

“Trunk-of-Tree is much slower and stronger, but he also has learned the how-to of building, weaving, and spear-making to be strong against winds and winter and many throws. When, he speaks, he speaks slowly and carefully but with purpose.

“Easy-Tears wants everyone to be happy to save his own tears. He therefore has learned the how-to of making things that all or many will like immediately. So too, when he speaks, he is careful not to offend but to make everyone like what he is saying.

“Shade-Walker has learned the how-to of making things so that the making itself is a pleasurable thing. This too is a valuable how-to as are all such ways in different circumstances.

“Eyes-of-Eagle has been learning the how-to of making things beautiful.”

Now, Fleet-of-Foot spoke, “Which among all these many ways of how-to is the best though? Surely, it is always best to make all things as quickly as possible. Isn’t that what all should be learning?”

“Each way of how-to is best under different circumstances, Fleet-of-Foot. There is no best part of a tree. Without roots, the tree will die. Without bark, insects will eat the tree. Without leaves to welcome the sun, tree will die. Without nuts, fruits, or cones, tree can have no children. Every part is different, but each is important.” She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives looked at each of the others in turn. When, she came to She-of-Many-Paths, their eyes held and She-of-Many-Paths began to speak.

“So it is also with Wolf. Without legs, Wolf cannot run. Without eyes, Wolf cannot see. Without a mouth, Wolf cannot eat. Without ears, Wolf cannot hear. Every part is vital. I see this clearly, She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives, but I am not so sure what my how-to skill is. I think all of these ways of how-to are vital.” Then her eyes silently questioned the Shaman.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives smiled with her gentle eyes at She-of-Many-Paths as she answered. “Each thing we make comes from the earth; comes through the people and their work; comes to those who use such things and everything returns to the earth once again. When you take reeds from the Lake of Reeds and weave a basket, the basket is a gift from the earth and the lake and also from your own labor. Your labor is also a gift from those of our ancestors who learned how to weave. I think your own way of how-to is to make such a connection clear so that each such person who uses your basket or throws such a spear as you make is quite aware of that connection. Such a basket or spear feels good in the hand but it also feels good in the way it connects the person and therefore all of the Veritas to the earth and all of us, living and dead.”

She-of-Many-Paths had never had such a clear vision of her how-to calling, but when she heard it, she felt her heart quiver. This, she now realized, had always been in her heart as she did things and made things. Each day she had seen more and more clearly how all things were connected and that all the people were connected. A gift, she thought, should make those connections clearer to everyone else. The image of Pond Mud and his well-muscled body came to mind and she wondered whether she could construct such a gift as to make him see how he was connected to all so that he would stop trying to bully smaller boys and stop crushing ants to no purpose.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives continued, “Each of you has began exploring a different way of how-to. As you grow in experience, you will learn more about your own path. You began on your path patly because of your own nature. And partly you began on this path because of circumstance. As you learn, people will come to know you and seek you out according to your special way of how-to. Over time, you will become more and more expert at your particular way of how-to. This is good. All of these are appropriate or less so according to circumstance and task. However, it is also good that you learn at least something of the way of how-to of some other person. This has many benefits for you and for the Veritas.

“It will be good for you in the very process of trying to do something according to someone else’s how to. It will stretch your mind. You will also be better connected to someone else for having tried to use their how-to skills. In the future, in some cases, it will be necessary to make something for the people that makes use of more than one of these skills in order that it may most benefit all the Veritas. It may also be that in such a working together you may discover a new way of how-to that none yet know. Between two paths in the forest, another path may be laid. In a storm, a river may take a new path. Therefore, listen as I tell you your next trial.

“Fleet-of-Foot, your task will be to create a hammock with the way of how-to of Trunk-of-Tree to his satisfaction and with his guidance.

“Trunk-of-Tree, your task will be to create a basket that will be as instantly popular as though it were made by Easy-Tears himself.

“Easy-Tears, your task will be to create a travois that will be as grounded and mindful as one created by She-of-Many-Paths.

“She-of-Many-Paths, you will make a hide tent to the satisfaction of Shade-Walker.

“Shade-Walker, you in turn, will devise a set of fine clay jugs that will delight the sense of beauty of Eyes-of-Eagle.

“Eyes-of-Eagle, you will make me a new dream catcher with the how-to ways of Fleet-of-Foot.

“Each of you will help any of the Six with any asked questions and observations. But the work itself must be done by the person assigned. I may observe you from time to time and I may not. When a task is finished, you are to show me the finished work in pairs for I want to question you both. At such time as all six tasks are done, I shall then determine how many of the six of you will pass on to the next trial. It is even possible that some may join in the next trial who did not participate in this one.

“Do not be deceived. This is a more difficult test than you might think. You may fail by not satisfying your judge. But you may also fail by not helping sufficiently the person you are judging. And, both of your pair may fail if I feel that your judge has not been sufficiently strict in his or her critiques. Go now in peace. I look forward to seeing these artifacts designed and built with the way of the how-to of another.”

The protégés returned to their own lodgings. They began their walk in silence but by the time they returned to their lodgings around the central fire, they were talking excitedly about their plans and all were resolved to begin at dawn.

She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives returned to her cabin smiling. She badly needed a new dream catcher, for lately, her dreams had been disturbing indeed. Well, soon enough, that would be fixed. She drifted off wondering why it was so difficult to explain that all of the ways of how-to had their place in different circumstances. It seemed quite obvious to her, but this had not been so obvious to the Six, with the exception of Many-Paths. Well, they are yet young. She noted too that they were becoming quite aware of the presence of particular others among the tribe. All part of life, she thought. The Shaman began to imagine a world where the ways of how-to are all one way. She-Who-Saves-Many-Lives dropped off to sleep and began dreaming of a world in which everyone made things only using the how-to way of “Fleet-of-Foot.” It was not a peaceful dream.

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Point your magic arrow here and click to discover other possible worlds.

The Walkabout Diaries: Variations

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries: Sunsets

The Walkabout Diaries: Symphony

The Walkabout Diaries: Bee Wise

Travels with Sadie: Tolerance

Travels with Sadie: Teamwork

Travels with Sadie: Taking Turns

Where Do You Draw the Line?

Your Cage is Unlocked

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Where Does Your Loyalty Lie?

Pattern Language Summary

Fifteen Properties

Myths of the Veritas: The Second Ring of Empathy.

22 Thursday Jan 2026

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

≈ 4 Comments

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#compassion, #ethics, #leadership, #management, Bohm Dialogue, collaboration, competition, cooperation, empathy, fiction, learning, life, myth, politics, trial, truth, Veritas, writing

Myths of the Veritas: The Second Ring of Empathy.

[My photo of masks created by Sarah Morgan].

“She Who Saves Many Lives” began the very next dawn to craft ten of The Second Ring of Empathy. This she fashioned from bronze as well but each ring sported a small but fiery opal. Each was beautiful and ever-changing yet each was different from each of its kin.

After caressing the final touches on the first such ring, she summoned that one of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” who was known among the Veritas as “She of Many Paths.” She had been named this because of her penchant for trying many paths before settling on the way to take.

The instructions to this first such were to immediately begin fasting. On the dawn of the fourth day, “She of Many Paths” was instructed to travel to the twisted oak near the waterfall that sings and to sit quietly by the dark pool at the bottom of the falls and notice all that she saw. When the sun was high she was to return to “She Who Saves Many Lives” and tell all that he had observed. And, it was so. And so she did.

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{Translator’s Note}: It isn’t said in this part of the legend that the initiates were explicitly told to be silent, but those familiar with the Veritas will see that such secrecy was indeed implicitly assumed. Naturally, the young Veritas were sorely tempted to share their experiences with each other. However, they most probably did not. If they did, the narrative below makes it clear that any such sharing was well disguised.

“She Who Saves Many Lives” had not been idle. While “She of Many Paths” had been fasting and observing, the shaman had been crafting another opal ring set in bronze. After “She of Many Paths” shared her observations, “She Who Saves Many Lives” summoned another of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others.” The girl was called “Eyes of Eagle” for her superior eyesight. “She Who Saves Many Lives” told “Eyes of Eagle” that she was to drink nothing and eat nothing for the whole next day. When the dawn of the next day came, she was to travel to the twisted oak, rest, reflect, and observe. When the sun was high, she was to return to “She Who Saves Many Lives” and tell all that she had observed. And, it was so. And so she did.

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From the time of the crescent moon to the first quarter, no more were called from among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others.” It happened then, that a day became hotter than any could remember. No-one wanted to do anything besides sleep and swim. At noon, “She Who Saves Many Lives” summoned another of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others.” He was called by the Veritas “Shade Walker” for his definite preference to stalk, walk, and sit in the shade. “She Who Saves Many Lives” instructed “Shade Walker” to trek the journey to the twisted oak; to sit by the dark pool (but not partake of its refreshing waters); instead to observe and reflect and then relate it all back to “She Who Saves Many Lives.” And, it was so. And so he did.

{Translator’s Note}: In the recounting of the next part of the narrative, I have slightly shortened the repetitive structure of the original since the modern reader is much more impatient than were the Veritas.

One by one, “She Who Saves Many Lives” called each of the remaining from among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of the Others” and gave them a task. Each such task, “She Who Saves Many Lives” constructed to be especially apt for that particular person. Each such task was different. Each such task was designed quite deliberately to put each particular person in a different frame of mind. Just as the first three had been hungry, thirsty and unbearably hot, so too were the successive candidates from “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” variously exhausted from physical labor, desirously aroused by tales, angry, fearful, over-filled with food, in pain, and, finally, in a happy and hilarious mood. “She Who Saves Many Lives” knew well that each person would see, smell, hear, feel, and recall different things because of these different states of mind. And, as she heard their various recountings, her judgment on this was confirmed.

On the day when Winter and Summer balance each to each and Summer promises to give way to Winter, since all had now accomplished their tasks, “She Who Saves Many Lives” invited all them to a council fire. They were now asked to dialogue about their observations of the deep pool, the spraying cataract, the twisted oak and the nearby surrounds. “She Who Saves Many Lives” did not speak but listened carefully to all that was said.

{Translator’s Note}: Here the word “dialogue” is used to convey a process much like Bohm Dialogue. The English word “dialogue” is often erroneously thought to connote a two-sided debate because of the apparent Latin root “di” meaning “two.” However, the English word “dialog” actually comes from the Greek roots, “dia” meaning “through” and “logos” meaning “meaning.” A dialogue is not properly a debate with two sides. Rather it refers to a process of developing meaning through the processes of the group: recounting experiences, listening respectfully, and reflecting upon what was said. No-one “wins” and on-one “loses.” It is much like group problem solving except that there is no specified problem to solve. More on Bohm Dialogue can be found here. Again, with a nod to the great impatience of the modern people, I have taken the liberty to summarize much of what was actually related.

“She of Many Paths” spoke first of the many frogs, rabbits, and insects she had seen by the dark pool. She spoke of how tasty they would be and what manner one could cook frog, rabbit, and dragonfly but she had been instructed only to observe and thus had not eaten any though she was quite hungry. She also observed how frogs lay just beneath the surface of the water jutting their quick tongues out to capture fly or mosquito. She had also observed rabbits eating the large ripe blackberries she would have rather had for herself.

“Eyes of Eagle” said she had not noticed any rabbits at all though she had seen a few dragonflies skimming the water eating mosquitos. There may also have been frogs but mainly, she had noticed that the water falling over the cataract fell mainly into the deep pool but many drops also hit upon the rocks at the sides of the waterfall and that such drops splattered high into the air. At some times of the day, these made rainbows. Several times, wonderful cool breezes wafted mist onto her thirsty tongue.

“Shade Walker” had also noticed such lucky sprays. He recounted that when he first arrived beside the deep pool, he could think of little else than how wonderful it would be to dive into the depths of that cooling pool. Five fish jumped into the air from the pool and then dove back in. “Shade Walker” had imagined five times that he had been such a lucky fish. He had thought he might go mad with the heat and began silently cursing his ancestors for ever leaving the water. As the sun continued its sky journey however, he noticed the shadow of the twisted oak approaching him. Soon, his knees and feet were in the cool shade of the twisted oak. Soon, his torso and finally his face and head were also in shade. Still the water splattered off the rocks making a cooling mist. When the sun was half-way between its high point and sunset, a cool breeze flitted through the glade.

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So in turn, did each of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” recount to the others their observations. Each of “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” listened respectfully. Occasionally, one would make a brief comment. “She Who Saves Many Lives” sat in silence, neither speaking word, nor gesture, nor grin nor grimace.

Now it came to pass that each of the ten sat silently reflecting a long while on the experiences of the others. At last, “Shade Walker” spoke: “It seems that perhaps the same place seems quite different depending on whether it was day or night.” All nodded.

“Eyes of Eagles” spoke next. “As well, the hungry see food; the thirsty see water; the hot, see shade; the fearful hear enemies; the exhausted see little but ways to rest.

The one known as “Bent Finger” claimed that his observations had been the best and encompassed the whole of what everyone else had seen.

“She of Many Paths” asked whether he had noticed dragonflies catching mosquitos or rabbits eating blackberries.

“Bent Finger” scoffed, “I meant important things. I saw all the important things.”

“She of Many Paths” then proceeded to tell a story about her own experiences the point of which was that it is sometimes difficult to know at the time what is an important observation.

“Many Muscles” opined that he had had the most difficult task for “She Who Saves Many Lives” had sent him exhausted from three day’s worth of hard labor to sit and observe. “In such a state, it is very difficult to observe anything.”

“She of Many Paths” observed that she had probably never been so exhausted as “Many Muscles” had been and therefore it would be difficult for her to know exactly how “Many Muscles” had been feeling just as it would be difficult for someone without three days hunger to know just how she had felt.

“That’s my point exactly!” added “Bent-Finger.” I was probably the only one in a good mood and that’s why I saw the most.

Their dialog continued for many hours until at last “She Who Saves Many Lives” spoke.

“I thank you each for your many observations and as well for your thoughtful reflections each to each on what each of you said. I think the future generations of the tribe will be well served by such as you. Indeed, no one person can feel and see and hear what many can. Hopefully, you will now be in a slightly better position to know what it’s like to be hungry, thirsty, hot, tired, aroused, angry, fearful, over-sated, in pain, or happy. I have made my decision.”

At this, “She Who Saves Many Lives” stood and began walking around the outside of the circle, handing each of eight among “The Ten Who Can Count Mountaintops with the Eyes of Others” one of the rings of opal. “Many Muscles” and “Bent-Finger” received no such ring.

“She Who Saves Many Lives” waved her hand and extinguished the remaining embers. She spoke thus: “Arise now, rest, and further contemplate the teachings that each of you has provided to the others. And, know that it is hard to know what someone else is feeling be they hungry, thirsty, hot, tired, aroused, angry, fearful, over-sated, in pain, or over-happy. Soon, there will be another task for you who would earn the Third Ring of Empathy.”

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Magic Portal: Touch this and you may then cause a book to be delivered to your door should you so wish it.

Pattern Language Summary

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

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Travels with Sadie 13: Dog Parks

18 Sunday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in dogs, pets, psychology, Sadie, Uncategorized

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books, civility, collaboration, cooperation, Democracy, dogs, fiction, life, love, pets, truth, USA

When I take Sadie for her morning or evening walks, she generally does “Good Walking.”

There are some exceptions. If a small animal passes too close to us, she will sometimes lunge toward it. She also tends to pull if she’s desperate to “do her business.” She seems to have a particular place in mind. The third common situation is when we get close to one of her neighborhood dog-friends who is also out for a walk. She approaches nicely until we’re about ten feet away and then—she wants to greet the other dog—immediately. Instantaneously. NOW!

Sometimes, though, she approaches or sits and awaits, vibrating with excitement, but controlling herself. She and the other dog sniff and then suddenly, it’s all too much as she breaks into a sprint. That’s fine.

Except for one thing. We’re attached by a leash, and, alas, I cannot sprint. I probably never could sprint nearly so fast as Sadie, but certainly not now.

In addition to ball playing in the garden, swimming, and walks, we also take the dogs to nearby dog parks. No big surprise, but they love it.

The truth is, I like it too. Many of the dogs are friendly to strangers. That’s fine with me. It’s not always fine with Bailey, however, who definitely has a jealous streak in him. Even when my wife and I hug, he wants to join in the loving. But he has gotten more tolerant of other dogs coming to say “hi” or to ask for a ball or frisbee to be thrown.

Sadie doesn’t seem much bothered when other dogs giving me some attention. Though Sadie and Bailey are both Golden Doodles and have many similarities such as their love of ball playing, they also have numerous differences. For instance, to signal that she really needs to go outside for a potty break, Sadie comes and stares at me. Bailey comes over to me and acts crazy. Sadie is much more likely to lie down and be mellow when I’m writing on the computer or watching Astrid. Bailey will continue to want to play ball and when all else fails, he’ll play ball by himself.

Ironically, I’ve never suggested this to Bailey. When Sadie was young, I tried on many occasions to show Sadie how she could play ball by herself, but she never caught on or showed any interest.

Bailey very much wants our approval. Sadie likes our approval too, but she does have a stubborn streak. Following the instructions of her own inner demons is relatively more important to her.

The differences among dogs are one of the reasons that I like going to the dog park. It’s fun to see the physical differences among the dog population. Equally, it’s interesting to see the differences in the ways that the dogs behave, both with each other, and with humans.

Another thing that’s nice about dog parks is that the people tend to be friendly. They too exhibit many differences in physical and behavioral characteristics. It’s a venue that seems to lend itself to informality and openness. When I’ve chatted with people, I don’t feel that they are trying to “impress me” with name dropping, etc. A few people—a distinct minority—show up and basically spend the whole time on the phone with very little of their attention going to the real world around them including their own dog. But that’s far from the modal behavior.

On the way out of the dog park, I passed by a flag pole with a large round concrete base. You don’t need a dog’s superior nose to know that this spot is frequented a lot by the canine population. Part of the reason is that it is frequented a lot by the canine population. In other words, there’s a “bandwagon” effect.

Looking at the dark stains all round the base of the flagpole makes me think of the way twitter devolved, but it applies to much of what happens on all social media. A small number of posts have a huge number of likes, reactions, and repostings while most have none. The algorithms of most social media platforms help promote this.

It isn’t just social media, however. There are many such positive feedback loops in our society. Wealth and power result in more access to health, food, shelter, convenience, and education. This in turn, leads to more power and wealth. At the very high level, the wealthy and powerful don’t just win more competitive contests; they can and often do rig the contests.

The dogs at the dog park differ in age, strength, speed, and size as well as breed. Yet, in many ways, it’s very egalitarian. No dog gets all the attention or all the water or “rules” the other dogs or fetches every ball.