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Wake Up!

03 Wednesday Jun 2026

Posted by petersironwood in politics, psychology, story, Uncategorized, Veritas

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books, fantasy, fiction, hope, innovation, leadership, legend, life, memory, myth, prison, problem_solving, sense_making, short story, story, truth, Veritas, writing

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Shadow Walker couldn’t understand where the bright light was. It seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. The noise overwhelmed him, seemed to jar his bones and make his teeth chatter.  Breathe, he told himself. Breathe. Disgusting. Sour. Rotten. He was spinning. The bright lights changed to blue and then red and back to blue. “I can’t think straight,” he mumbled aloud. Shadow Walker slowed his breathing. The word “inventory” came to mind. He slowly and carefully took stock of his body, part by part. It was all there; sore, but no broken bones. He moved his hand to his head. Apparently, a tree burl had grown on his head. But that cannot be, he thought. I must have fallen. I’m in a hole. He blinked and listened to the roar. 

Not a roar. Those are voices. Whose voices? Many voices. They were speaking gibberish. Gibberish he had heard before. ROI and Z-Lotz. Why were people speaking those languages? A picture came to mind — a beautiful young woman bathing. Then, she was speaking. They were pointing to some vines high up in a tree. Another image: crawling through the grass. He drew close to the beautiful woman. Her scent was nice. Not like now. Who was she? She was not the only woman though. There was another. If only the pain were less, I could think better. 

The light at least had grown dimmer. He could now make out mountains and in this vast landscape, no plants grew. He closed his eyes and saw the image of another beautiful woman with eyes like those of a cougar. He mumbled aloud, “I wish Cougar Eyes were here. She could translate this sea of words into something I could understand. Where the hell am I?”

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He stared back onto the giant landscape. Something was very wrong with it. He blinked a few times and suddenly realized that he was not staring at a giant landscape at all. He stared at a dirt floor a few inches in front of his face. He was lying on his side. He tilted his head to take in the room. 

I am in a prison, he thought. But why? He pushed himself up to a sitting position. A single shaft of sunlight struck the floor near where he had just been lying. He closed his eyes and nearly fainted. He sat alone on one side of this prison room, he realized. The other three sides showed a few dozen others hunched against the other three sides. They reacted to him — his sitting up — by pointing and jabbering — but he only caught an occasional word that made any sense: “death” “NUT-PI” “ceremony” “yesterday” or “tomorrow” — he couldn’t be sure which. Again he said and said aloud, “If only Cougar Eyes were here.” Across the room, a thin, frail, long-bearded man arose and hobbled toward him slowly. He stood directly in front of Shadow Walker and then awkwardly sat down in front of him and began speaking — in Veritas!

“Excuse me, Sir. My name is Tree Vines. Did you say ‘Cougar Eyes’ just now?” 

“Tree Vines! You speak Veritas!” 

“I do. Yes. I am Veritas. But I don’t recognize you. I suppose you have grown quite a bit since I last saw you. But did you say ‘Cougar Eyes.’?” 

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“Yes. I don’t recognize you either. I am Shadow Walker. Cougar… that’s not right. Tiger Eyes. No. Something. Her name escapes me. I have been struck hard on the head. I don’t know how I got here. Where are we?” 

“You are in a place called Hopeless because all who come here, die here, or — or out in the public square. NUT-PI mostly lets us die of slow starvation, but sometimes, he likes to put on a show. I am afraid that is likely your fate. According to what I overheard from the guards, you came here two days ago with a woman. Was this woman by any chance called ‘Cat Eyes’?”

“Cat Eyes! Yes. No. I mean, I do know a woman named Cat Eyes. But that is not the woman I came here with. She’s — her name is — also something to do with cats or eyes or fish. But no. Cat Eyes — not Cougar Eyes — she — I found her in the village of the ROI. Like you, she speaks Veritas, but she also — but I cannot recall how I came to be here. I cannot…my mind is not working properly. I’m sorry. But you speak Veritas. Yet, I don’t recognize you.”

“Nor do I recognize you. Though I have been among the Z-Lotz for a long time now. I set out long ago on a journey to find my daughter, Cat Eyes, and was captured and used as a slave here in their city. My master became deathly ill ….”

Shadow Walker interrupted, “What? Wait. Cat Eyes is your daughter?” 

“Yes. Yes. Her irises are shaped like those of a cat. And you know her? Is she well?” 

“Tree Vines, the last time I saw her, she was well. She led … several of my tribe went to try to reach the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks. She went with them. She said that’s where she was from.” 

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“That’s right! But how — I don’t think they could get there. She was stolen from us when she was young. She was taken by these people who rob parents. My wife and I set out to follow the trail and try to find her. Several of our tribe accompanied us. But we came to a sheer cliff. No-one could find a way in or around. The others turned back, convinced there was no way over the mountain. My wife and I stayed and at last, a huge hole appeared in the side of the mountain itself…a kind of giant door. We could see nothing but we were desperate and slowly approached this hole hoping it might lead to her. Before our eyes had adjusted to the strange dim light inside, a troop of horsemen came riding out. They struck us with clubs and I woke up in the City of the Z-Lotz. I was chained and beaten and made to understand that I was their slave. They made me change my name to Tree Vines to make fun of my thin muscular limbs. I used to called “Of The Night” but I seldom think of that now. I was never allowed outside my master’s house. I am not sure whether my wife…sometimes other slaves came and I tried to ask about my wife, but we could never talk long. I gave up on life. I poisoned my master, not to kill, but to make him ill, and they found out or rather guessed — and put me in here. But only the ROI and the Z-Lotz know the secret of the giant hole in the mountain. I don’t think she could get through. But why are you here?” 

“Tree Vines, it is good to hear someone speak Veritas again. And, hearing your words has helped me recall some things, but I am still not — I don’t know why I am here or — we came — there is something here that we need. I came with — a different woman because she was here before and she sees — yes! She is called ‘Eagle Eyes.’ She can see really well. But not well enough to keep us from being captured — or killed.”

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“I’m sorry to say so, Shadow Walker, but they are going to kill you. By the light on the floor, I see it is nigh on to the Summer Solstice and they have … festivities planned … in fact, I would do the mercy of killing you, but we must find a way to kill each other or they will have me take your place. They make everyone — even the slaves and prisoners — go and watch the torture death. It would be better to die here.” Tree Vines, shook his head slowly from side to side. “It’s very bad. I’m sorry.” 

“Everyone dies eventually. But I am going to kill as many as I can. Meanwhile, tell me as much as you can about this ceremonial death so I can find my best chance of escape, Tree Vines. Or, would you rather I call you Of The Night?” 

Tree Vines sighed. “No, that name will just confuse me. Call me Tree Vines. I will tell you of the killing rituals, but what else can you say about my daughter? Please. Tell me. What sort of person is she?” 

“Your daughter is strong, beautiful, and very smart. I will give you the short version and if fortune looks favorably on us, I will tell you all you want to know later.” 

“Fair enough, Shadow Walker, but — this prison is called ‘Hopeless’ for a reason. NUT-PI uses a special rod to wound people and torture them. No-one has ever come close to escaping.” 

“Killing sticks! Yes! That is why we came here. To find out more about them and possibly steal one. My young brother in law, Tu-Swift, was also taken by the People Who Steal Children. We followed the trail and eventually I found him. He was living as a slave among the ROI and they were using him to train horses. We escaped with Tu-Swift, but the ROI followed us and used fire arrows to attack us, but the fire spread by the wind back to their own village and burned it to the ground. Most of them abandoned the wreckage of that village. But beneath the burned armory, we found a wounded ROI man named Jaccim. Your daughter was tending to him. She is a very good and kind person. And, as I said, very smart. She helped Tu-Swift learn to decode markings so that messages may be sent without the sender of the message being present.” 

“So, Cat Eyes was not hurt or injured or tortured?” 

Shadow Walker sighed. “The ROI…the Z-Lotz…I don’t know for certain. She looks to be unhurt on the outside. But her heart — that I cannot say. She avoids talking much about her time in captivity. But she was very excited to learn that Jaccim knew a way through the mountains. And, we sent a small party to try to connect with the Veritas who live beyond the Twin Peaks.” 

Tree Vines chewed nervously on his lips. “You let her go with one of the people who robs parents–who steals childen?” 

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“Jaccim actually seems like a decent person. Your daughter cared for him and I brought him medicine. And, he spent a fair amount of time with us. Tu-Swift vouches for him. What we discovered — actually mostly Cat Eyes — is that the ROI do not seem to even question what they are asked to do. If it’s effective and efficient, they are happy even if it something like stealing children. I don’t think on his own, he is likely to do bad things. Anyway, it wasn’t just the two of them. One of our strongest warriors, Trunk of Tree went as well as Fleet of Foot and two of our friends from the Nomads of the South. Your daughter is very resourceful. She spoke once of poisoning her captors as well. But she didn’t get caught.” 

Here, Shadow Walker tried carefully to study the face of Tree Vines to see whether he regarded this as a reproach since he had been caught. There was a frown, but Shadow Walker didn’t think it was from reproach. 

“I am — I am glad to know she is alive. But now, I am worried all over again. You let her go with one from among The People Who Steal Children, as you call them. She is still a child herself. She — you have no idea how she is. And, now, it seems unlikely either of us will ever find out.” 

Now, Shadow Walker frowned. “Your daughter is very much a young woman now. She definitely has a mind of her own. She insisted that she wanted to go. We dialogued about the pros and cons, but all of us, most especially your daughter insisted on going — she mainly wanted to see you — and her mother. But what do you mean, none of us will ever know?” 

“Shadow Walker of the Veritas Center Place, there is a reason that this prison is called Hopeless. No-one can escape.” 

“Tree Vines of the Veritas Beyond the Twin Peaks, I know well why they call the prison Hopeless. It is precisely so no-one will even try to escape. It is a label they chose. They mean to demoralize us. We will find a way out and you, I believe, will yet be reunited with your daughter. She is very resourceful. I told you she helped Tu-Swift decode the marks of the Z-Lotz.” 

Tree Vines tilted his head and tightened his lips. “You mentioned these marks before. Do you remember what any of them look like? I wonder…. No, it couldn’t be.” 

“Oh, I remember them all! Once Tu-Swift realized that each mark is like a stick figure drawing of someone making a sign, you see, and then your daughter and Tu-Swift together realized that each mark was only the initial sound of the word that the hand signs signify, we were able to decode the entire birchbark collection that Eagle Eyes … managed to take from here.” 

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“Did my daughter, Cat Eyes, ever mention the work of the Veritas beyond the Twin Peaks to understand the ancient artifacts we discovered?” 

“No. No. Not that I recall.” 

Shadow Walker glanced around the prison. He noted that none of the others were talking. Each seemed to be cocooned in their own private prison of hopelessness, they all sat, backs to the wall, arms wrapped around their knees, heads down. Perhaps they had sent their souls into another place since this one was so … filled with death. Each of them sees the others act hopeless so they do too. It’s perpetuated from one prisoner to the next. The name — hopelessness — and the expectation — those are better guards, I think, than any of the human ones out there. 

“Listen.” Shadow Walker drew closer and began whispering. “I intend to break out of this prison. But I may need the help of others. Do you know which of these men is to be trusted? Is it possible there is a spy?” 

Tree Vines inhaled deeply. He had become inured to the stench. “People in here don’t talk much. I’m not sure I’d really trust any of them. On the one hand, they are probably not great fans of NUT-PI. After all, they’re in prison. On the other hand, if they heard of your plans they might inform the guards in the hope of securing better treatment. That’s how NUT-PI operates. He betrays everyone but has everyone believing that they will he lucky exception. Anyway, plans are hopeless. You only have a day — perhaps two — before they will use you for entertainment.” 

“What sort of — entertainment?” 

Tree Vines drew still closer. “Are you sure you want to know?” 

Shadow Walker, despite his body still being wracked with pain, felt a small smile on the right side of his mouth. “Oh, yes. I definitely want to know.”

Tree Vines said, “If you want my advice, spend your last days thinking of something good, not dwelling on the horror that lies ahead.”

Shadow Walker’s smile spread. “I assure you that I will spend very little time dreading. I will spend my time planning, imagining, trying alternatives, imagining consequences, imagining alternative consequences, like a tree growing limbs from trunk, and twigs from limbs and leaves from twigs. I will find a way out as surely as I found a way in.” Shadow Walker paused for a moment and then looked into the eyes of the other man. “And you are coming with us.”

“You really think you can do it?”

“Either that or die trying. I’m not going to spend my days … underground. Now, tell me about how they imagine that they will use my death to provide entertainment?”

“All right. Well, the first thing is that it is always different. But variations on a theme. There will be some sort of sexual perversion involved. You can count on that. And there will be a lot of pain involved. And, the audience of — well, different people are in different positions but everyone is there — even the prisoners. It is our only entertainment — and — you will think me sick — a despicable man — but we all cheer, even though the person being tortured to death is one of us. Crazy when you think about it.”

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“Okay, thank you Tree Vines. But I need you to be much, much more specific. What weapons of torture? Where is the person relative to the audience. Where are the prisoners?  I realize it may all be different, but there will be patterns and if I can understand those patterns, I can see the weaknesses, the cracks in those patterns, that will always be there regardless of specifics. I already know what some of the cracks are because they are flaws of NUT-PI himself and will always limit his thinking. For instance, he is a colossal coward. And, he assumes (without knowing that he does so) that everyone else is the same. So that colors his predictions. He rules largely through other cowards because he can use fear to manipulate them. But it also means that very few, if any, are truly loyal to him. Even if there are such people, he will never be able to trust anyone. He will not be able to tell who are the few who truly want what he wants or think he is a god from those who will simply act that way to curry temporary favor or avoid punishment. These are general patterns of weakness, but there are many more for a system such as NUT-PI and the Z-Lotz have set up. But I also need to understand their cruelty in great detail so I can see the weakness patterns there as well.”

Tree Vines had a grim look on his face. It was painful to reveal some of the many possible tortures, but guilt tripled his pain. He along with all his fellow prisoners had cheered and he kept asking himself why. “All right, Shadow Walker. First of all, they always have the person restrained in some way. Perhaps his hands will be tied behind his back. Perhaps he’ll be suspended from a pole. Perhaps he’ll have one leg in a chain with a heavy ball attached.”

Tree Vines paused. “Do you want me to go on?”

“Yes. But take yourself back. Instead of saying, ‘sometimes this, sometimes that’ tell me of one particular torture from beginning to end; everything you saw, you heard, you smelled, you felt. Everything. Just like I was watching right beside you.” 

Tree Vines paused. He actually found himself smiling. He had been taught this skill at a young age, but he hadn’t used it in years. For the first time in an endless string of gray days in Hopeless Prison, Tree Vines felt hope. Perhaps, he thought, I should return to calling myself “Of the Night.”

——————————————————————

Author Page on Amazon

The Myth of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

Math Class: Who Are You?

Roar, Ocean, Roar

 

 

The Lost Child Who Brings Light

26 Tuesday May 2026

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

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acceptance, books, dark, education, fantasy, fiction, ignorance, leadership, life, light, problem_solving, psychology, sense_making, short story, story, truth, Veritas, writing

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“Who goes there?!” Two well-armed guards stood on either side of a broad path. Several of the villagers were cautiously walking up the path toward the guards, curious about the strangers. 

Trunk of Tree cleared his throat, but he hadn’t thought about what to say. 

Fleet of Foot began to answer, “We are Veritas. From the Center Place of the Veritas. Near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. I am called “Fleet of Foot” and this man is called “Trunk of Tree” — you can probably see why. This woman is named Cat Eyes. She was born here, but stolen at a young age. Now, she returns to see her family.”

The guards both frowned. It was a lot to take in. Behind the guards, the crowd began murmuring and passing along the information. 

One of the guards began, “We are Veritas. I am Throws Far and this is Tree Climber. Our ancestors lived near the once-forgotten Field of Flowers. We have tried many times to send a party back to the Center Place but no-one has ever gotten through. Come and meet our leader.  Follow me. Wait. Why do you have horses?” 

Trunk of Tree began to answer, “We — I don’t really like horses anyway. They are too big.” 

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Fleet of Foot added, “We have very little experience with horses. They just came into our possession recently. It is a long tale, but we will tell all your people. Cat Eyes wishes…”

Cat Eyes put her hand on her chest. “I am Cat Eyes. I smell spicebush tea.” Tears ran down her cheeks though she reined in her breathing so that she could continue speaking. “I thought I would never find my way back here. Do you know my parents, Gathers Acorns and Of the Night?”

The guards exchanged looks. Throws Far said, “Your parents? I know them. I knew them. They left to find you. We have not heard from them. We assume…we think…it’s likely that the fell into the hidden holes in the Ice Mountain. But how did you get here without going over Ice Mountain?”

A beautiful lanky youth with long ebony hair pushed her way through the growing crowd. “Cat Eyes? Is that really you?” She walked right up and looked into the teary eyes. “Oh! Cat Eyes! It is you! I am your cousin, Blackberry Patch!” Blackberry Patch gently took the hand of Cat Eyes into her own and led her along the path to the Fire Circle. Cat Eyes stared around. The Fire Circle looked familiar though vastly smaller than she remembered. There was a cliff of brown stone which she remembered but there were many … rooms … in the cliff which she did not remember at all. “It’s nice to meet you, Blackberry. I don’t. But I’m sorry I don’t remember you.” 

 “I remember you! You were quite a … you were always…do you remember playing ‘Hide and Find’ with me?” 

Cat Eyes kept casting her eyes about to try to find things that looked familiar. She looked back at Blackberry and then over to the brown cliff. She pointed, “I think we played there … in the …  tunnels. But it looks all different.” 

Blackberry Patch nodded. “Oh, yes! We have been excavating. We’ve found out —- there used to be — we’ve found many things of the ancients! But never mind that. Let me introduce you to the others. We never thought you would be found. After your parents … we’ve never made it out of these mountains. The mountain of ice is now very unsafe. Much of it is mud and where there is ice, there are hidden cliffs. We stopped trying. But some people think that there might be a tunnel in the ancient places in the cliff. Here.” 

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Although Blackberry Patch spoke directly to Cat Eyes, everyone who could get close enough was listening. The rumor had now spread throughout the village that strange visitors had come and that one of their own had returned. Nearly everyone in the village had heard the story of Cat Eyes and most of the adults in the village remembered her specifically because of her oddly shaped pupils. They all had to wriggle themselves close enough so that they could verify that this was indeed the one who had disappeared. The people stopped their normal activities and crowded around. Many questions were asked but confusion reigned until the man who was obviously their leader came solemnly among them. His voice boomed low and loud, cutting through the din. 

“WELCOME! WELCOME! Oh, long lost of the Veritas! And Welcome, Oh, Welcome to the daughter of Gathers Acorns and Of the Night, whom we all well regard and remember. Oh, daughter of our tribe, Welcome, She with the Eyes of the Cat! Please, take this seat of honor and introduce us to your friends!” Gentle Talons, their leader, gestured grandly toward a beautifully made blanket. Cat Eyes nodded and began to walk over to her place. 

Trunk of Tree, who had remained silent during their walk into the village now seemed to find his voice. “I am Trunk of Tree and the leader of our small group.” He began to walk toward the place where Cat Eyes was about to sit. Fleet of Foot, put a strong hand on the shoulder of Trunk of Tree and said, “Not now. It will be more powerful if she introduces you.” After noting the hesitation in Trunk of Tree, he added, “Just as their leader was not the first but the last to arrive. See?”

Trunk of Tree relented. Cat Eyes, sat down gracefully and gestured to her companions. How on earth should she — could she — tell this tale?

She thought: Everyone is looking at me and I don’t know what to say. The image of Many Paths flashed into her mind and she decided she would pretend to be Many Paths — or her own version of Many Paths. “Come friends, and sit near me. We have many tales to tell each other. But I will begin with the basics. First, I am overwhelmed with happiness to be here and I am overwhelmed with grief to hear that Mom and Dad disappeared. I remember much about this place, but the brown cliffs have changed much, I see. Let me introduce my friends and traveling companions. I have not known any of them very long, but we have become good friends and I can vouch for them all. 

“This strong man has been the leader of our expedition. You may easily guess why he has the name Trunk of Tree.” She smiled. She looked at the people. Everyone could see that she spoke the truth from her own heart. “This man on the other side is known as ‘Fleet of Foot’ and, as you might expect, he is a very fast runner. But he is also a fast thinker, and quite diplomatic. She smiled at him and then at the crowd. “That man Jaccim is our expert on horses. The Veritas have adopted him. He saved my life at least twice and possibly more. He is still learning our language. He knows of, and led us here via, a tunnel passage that does not require crossing the treacherous ice mountain. 

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“The man next to him is visiting the Veritas. They call him Lion Slayer because, indeed, he actually did slay a lion single-handedly. He, and his wife, Salah Hudah, are from the Great Tribe of Southern Nomads. They aided us in a great war which, I have no doubt, you will be interested to learn more about at another time. Lastly, there is me. I was born here. And, I lived here for a time. I was stolen away and taken somewhere that I now know to be a village of the Z-Lotz. And, my name is Cat Eyes.” She paused, winked and added, “Though I have no idea why I bear that odd name.” 

The crowd chuckled appreciatively. When that died down, Cat Eyes continued. 

“There are many fine stories to share and we hope to do just that. Trunk of Tree, tell to our brothers beyond the twin peaks what we have brought as gifts.”

Trunk of Tree shook his head. He frowned for a moment and then remembered that they had brought gifts. “Yes. Yes! We have brought you some … gifts. They are …” In a panic, he suddenly realized that he didn’t know, but Fleet of Foot had been carrying the bag of gifts and handed the cinnamon to Trunk of Tree. “Cinnamon. This smells very nice in cooking. And, we brought … “ Trunk of Tree took the next gift. He studied it for a moment and then stared at Fleet of Foot. “Fleet of Foot, can you tell what these pretty stones are?”

Fleet of Foot took one of the slices of mica and turned it this way and that so that people in the crowd could judge its shininess. “This is mica and we are still learning about it. But if you take a very thin slice you can see right through this rock and yet it is still rock. It keeps out the wind and keeps the bugs from crawling through it. It is sharp but not much use for a weapon. Although…” Fleet of Foot paused for just a split second, unsure whether to let people in on the unique weapons they were preparing. “Who knows? It might be useful to make a bridge that looks strong but would break when stepped on, for instance.” 

Someone asked, “How did you discover mica?” 

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Trunk of Tree looked panicked for a moment. He had no idea. But Cat Eyes, spoke up instead. “That is an excellent question. And, when everyone tells our story, you will find that answered. We must hear the story from end to end. And there are more gifts, but I must tell you some critical things first.” 

“The first one, and perhaps obvious is that there is another path. You are no longer confined to these mountainsides. It might be that a few of you would venture back to meet your cousins near the forgotten field of flowers.” She paused, waiting for the murmuring to subside. 

“Second, the Z-Lotz have things that we never dreamed of. They have devised a ‘Killing Stick’ which kills a person without touching them. They point the ‘Killing Stick” at their victim and there is a loud noise and a bright flash and the victim begins to bleed profusely.”

This time the murmuring did not die down until Gentle Talon’s booming voice echoed off the walls. “Let her finish!” 

Cat Eyes sighed. She took a deep breath. “And last, perhaps most importantly of all, the Z-Lotz have a way to … they think something and say it. But when they say it, or perhaps only think it, they make a mark on a piece of thin beech bark. Then, later, someone else can come and look at that mark and imagine what was said. They can hear it softly whispered even though no mouth is nearby.” 

This time, the crowd did not react with murmuring. There was dead silence. She reached into the bag of gifts and pulled out the small bit of bark with odd marks and thrust it in the air. “This is what it looks like. The marks are from sign language. But they are only the first sound of that word. I know it’s difficult to understand, but … “

Another voice rang out. “I told you! I told you! “ 

Now, the murmuring began and swelled as people who understood this concept of the written word and began to successfully explain it to their friends. 

The voice of Gentle Talons boomed out again. “As foretold! She is the one! She brings light to the tunnel of ignorance! Welcome home, O lost child!” 

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Cat Eyes shook her head. What are they talking about, she wondered. There was a children’s story about a lost child who came back to lead her … people … through a long tunnel into the light. Great Bear in the Sky!! That’s just a legend. Do they think I am a prophesy? A leader? A Goddess?

Cat Eyes tried to make her voice heard above the din. “Wait! Wait! I am not a leader or a prophesy. I am just me. I am just … one of you who was stolen but was lucky enough to return.” 

Gentle Talons bellowed, “Did you not come through a tunnel of darkness into the light to arrive here?” 

Cat Eyes said, “Yes. But so did they.” She gestured to remind people of her companions. 

Gentle Talons continued, “But you are the only one who left and then returned!”

Cat Eyes nodded. “True. But I have no idea what ignorance you are talking about.” 

Gentle Talons looked lovingly at Cat Eyes and said gently, yet loud enough for everyone to hear, “Is it not obvious, my child? You have brought us the light of knowledge! Once we began excavating the cliffs, we found many tunnels of darkness lined with row after row of strange boxes filled with such leaves as you’ve shown us. All are marked with these same strange markings. But until now, we have never had the light to enable us to understand a single mark. And now we do. You have brought us that light of understanding! Welcome, oh, child of light! Welcome home!” 

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Cat Eyes took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She felt so many conflicting emotions that she felt for a moment that she would be overwhelmed, not knowing which was her true feeling. And, suddenly, it occurred to her that her feelings were all real.

She realized: It is not a contest or a race. It is a rainbow to embrace. My grief about my parents not being here in no way means I cannot feel nervous about what is expected of me or my pride of having spoken well. Nor does the red of the rainbow mean that the green does not also exist. In fact, each color makes the other colors that much more vivid. Sometimes I glance at the red and sometimes I glance at the blue or the green. Sometimes the earth sleeps beneath a blanket of snow. And, sometimes it bakes in the hot summer sun. My own feelings change, more slowly than my eyes can dart from color to color, but much more quickly than the seasons turn. And, that is just natural; that is just nature. 

Of course, Cat Eyes saw all this in a more visual way; images superimposing themselves upon each other until a balance was reached — an acceptance of a balance between being in control of and responsible for one’s actions — while at the same time feeling the ever-changing flow of one’s heart and just accepting that all of it is nature.

Her heart filled as she thought: All of it is just natural. It is okay to feel that I want nothing so much as to go back to the Veritas who helped rescue her and spend the rest of her days there and also to feel that she never wanted to leave this place ever again. It was even more beautiful than she had remembered it. And, I do know enough about decoding the marks that I could lead them to understand what those many boxes of marks mean. It is okay to feel all these things. But in the end, my body can only be in one place at a time. It had better be where I want the heart of my hearts to be.

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Cat Eyes smiled and asked gently, “Do you suppose I could share some of your spicebush tea? You might like to try it with some cinnamon.” Cat Eyes felt something shift inside her. She was home and being home and knowing it was all real somehow healed something deep inside her. She was alive. She had survived so much. She realized that she would now be — and always had been — home no matter where her body stood. Someone thrust a warm mug of spicebush tea into her hands. She inhaled both the fragrant spicebush from her childhood and the exotic and novel cinnamon as well. She was home. Home. And — better — she realized that she always would be.

———————————————————

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

The Forgotten Field

The Orange Man

Life is a Dance

The Dance of Billions

The Walkabout Diaries: Rainbows

Travels with Sadie

Use Diversity as a Resource

 

 

Choosing the Path More Traveled By

18 Monday May 2026

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

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fantasy, fiction, journey, leadership, legends, myths, problem_solving, reunion, sense_making, short story, stories, tales, teamwork, Veritas, writing

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The path chosen by Jaccim entered a thick hemlock forest and became naught but a deer trail that twisted and turned through the seemingly endless grove. Cat Eyes relished the smell of the hemlocks which somehow reminded her of home though she did not recognize this particular path at all. Sunlight slanted through the forest ahead of her and soon they exited the hemlocks and came around a bend with sheer granite cliffs on one side and a swift river on the other. Ahead, a high cliff shot straight up for a considerable height. It appeared too sheer and high to climb. She scanned the face for a path but saw none. She turned back to the others. 

“It appears we have come into a box canyon with no way out. At least, I see no way out.” 

scenic photo of cliffs during daytime

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“I knew it!” shouted Trunk of Tree. “We’ve been led into a trap!” He spun around and pointed at Jaccim. “You did this! Where are the ROI hiding? Speak now or never speak again!” 

Jaccim could not understand the yelling of Trunk of Tree. He looked to Cat Eyes and shrugged. 

Cat Eyes sighed and put her hands out in what she hoped was a calming gesture to Trunk of Tree. “I sense no danger here, Trunk of Tree. Jaccim has no idea what you are saying when you scream loudly. Let me translate for you.” 

Trunk of Tree drew out his war club and scanned the surroundings for enemies. He repeated his question to Jaccim still more loudly and rapidly. 

Cat Eyes tilted her head and looked at Trunk of Tree. “Jaccim will understand you no better if you scream more loudly. I can barely understand you when you scream thus. Let me ask him whether he made a wrong turn. Please. Relax. If we are walking into an ambush, why scream out an announcement?” 

Trunk of Tree grumbled something incoherent, but held his tongue for a moment. Cat Eyes queried Jaccim in ROI and then turned back to the group. 

“Jaccim says we are on the right path. He understands it looks like a box canyon with no exit, but it’s an illusion. He claims that there is a giant door up there what will allow us to go beyond the wall.” After a moment, she added, “I believe him. Think back. He is not a guileful person. At least, I don’t think so. Nor did Tu-Swift. Nor, obviously, did Many Paths. Let’s proceed. With caution, just in case. But let’s proceed. I have a sense we are closer than ever to my homeland.” 

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The group exchanged glances. All concurred, except Trunk of Tree. “I don’t agree. I think it’s a trap. I’m surrounded by people I don’t know! I don’t trust any of you!” 

Fleet of Foot spoke, looking directly at Trunk of Tree. “We’ve known each other for many winters, Trunk of Tree. I see no trap. But, let us take your advice and proceed cautiously. We will soon discover whether there is a door.” 

Before Trunk of Tree could respond, Easy Tears added, “We have also known each other for our whole lives, Trunk of Tree. You know me to be an open person. Perhaps I am too open. But you know that you are too valuable a warrior for Many Paths to put you in danger. Let us see what to make of this door, if it exists. We may need your strength to open it. Perhaps it is like the door that the rescuers had to open to find their way to Tu-Swift.” 

Trunk of Tree frowned. He reached back and touched the bump on his head. It still hurt when he touched it. He felt as though something here did not fit. It was unnatural, somehow. But maybe it was just the sheer size of the cliff before them. They could not cross the raging river. And far above the trees on the far side of the river, he could see the first of the twin peaks. This path into the box canyon seemed directly away from their ultimate goal. His head still felt confused though. He decided to go along with the group for now, but keep his guard up. 

Within minutes, Jaccim had led them to a smooth wall of gray rock with a strange and primitive drawing. He turned back to Cat Eyes and said in excited ROI (or, at least, in as excited as ROI ever got), “We’re here. It’s just as I remember.” 

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Cat Eyes stared at Jaccim. She turned and slowly “translated” for the group. “He says…he says, we are still on track. I guess this is the door. But I see no handle.” 

Then, to Jaccim, she said, “What are you talking about, Jaccim. You’ve led us to a solid wall of rock.”

Jaccim paced and peered, clearly looking for something. He muttered as he searched and Cat Eyes translated. “I know. I know. It looks that way, but I think that’s why we use these portals from the ancients. People can’t follow us because it looks like nothing. Somewhere near here…ah, here! Watch this.” Jaccim went over to what appeared to be a tree trunk, used his hand to clear away some dirt and brush. A flat top to the “trunk” was adorned with a series of inlaid square stones of some sort. He turned to the group and said in thickly accented Veritas, “Watchit!” He pushed on the stones. 

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Nothing happened. 

He pushed on them again. 

Nothing. 

Jaccim frowned. 

He mumbled in ROI, “It seems to be broken. Sorry, Cat Eyes. We might be able to make it open with strength. One cannot possibly do it, or even two strong men, but with all of us, and horses, we might. I think we can.” 

Trunk of Tree felt anger rise in him again, “I told you it was a trap! I told you! We’ll be attacked any moment! Look around!” 

Cat Eyes stood close in front of Trunk of Tree and said, “Relax, Trunk of Tree. He thinks we can open it. He’s looking for the … edge of the door.” 

All of the little search party were now looking around the strange looking rock. Easy Tears found a nearby flat rock which glinted strangely beneath the branches of a fallen tree. Its roots were still in the ground — but barely. It was a wild cherry and its branches covered the strange flat rock. “Look here. This tree has decided it must hurry and fruit though its time to do so has not yet come.” 

Trunk of Tree whirled quickly. “Who cares! This is a trap, I tell you! I’m the leader.” 

Easy Tears said, “Yes, of course you are, but we are looking for the edge of the door to push on. We will need your strength, but first we need to — what is this?”  

She had finished pushing the fallen branches away from the top of the flat rock and beneath was a smooth blue surface. Soon, the entire group had come over to stare at this strange surface. Blue rectangles were made up of smaller rectangles. Between the rectangles were gray … lines. Everything was shiny, almost like water. It glinted in the sunlight. Fleet of Foot was the first to touch it. He turned to the others, “It’s smooth, like a crystal.” 

Cat Eyes felt it as well. She turned to Jaccim and spoke in ROI. “What is this?” 

Jaccim answered, “We don’t know. I remember it from before. It was not covered before. I have never touched it. We were trained not to touch anything we didn’t understand from the ancient ones.” 

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Cat Eyes quickly translated and turned back to Jaccim, “What ancient ones? What legend are you referring to?” 

Jaccim frowned. “The Z-Lotz never told us really. They told us a story to make us remember to touch only what we needed to do our jobs. Otherwise, we might grow sick and die. Do you remember their stories?” 

Cat Eyes didn’t like thinking back to her days being a slave in an ROI household, but thinking back had helped her work with the others to decode the game and the strange markings so she forced herself to try. After a time, she shook her head. “No, I don’t recall anything except what you already said — not to touch anything except what was permitted or I could get badly hurt. But I don’t recall any stories about ancient ones. Anyway, this is a mystery for another time. Let’s find the edge as you suggested and try to push this door, if it even is a door, open at last. I want to find my people!” 

The group asked her to translate and she accommodated. Lion Slayer ran his hands along the vertical rock face and found a long shallow groove. “Is this the edge?” 

Jaccim walked over to the place where he saw Lion Slayer pulling on the rock and put his own fingers into the shallow groove. He gestured to the others. “Here! Here! Pull!” 

Soon all seven had found a place to put their fingers and they pulled, but nothing budged. They tried over and over. 

Trunk of Tree had been straining mightily and the tips of his fingers bled. He stepped back, hunkered over and put his hands on his knees. When he had caught his breath, he said, “This is absurd. There is no way in. I still say,” and he paused to take another breath, “it could be a trap.” 

Cat Eyes shook her head, “It’s not a trap, Trunk of Tree. I don’t believe that, and what’s more, I don’t think you really believe it either.” She turned to Jaccim and said in ROI, “Do you have any other ideas?” 

Jaccim said, “Somehow, we need to use the horses. Last time I was here, long ago, there was a handle and we could tie the rope around it, but now, I see no handle.” 

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Meanwhile, Hudah Salah had walked over to the tree trunk with the inlaid jewels. She idly felt them. They felt cool to the touch, like crystal. She noticed that they were of different colors, though quite faded. She touched one that looked as though it had once been green like the underside of hemlock needles. 

She jumped back as a thunderous rumble came from deep within the grey slate rock. The ground shook slightly and all seven felt slightly sick. They stared wordlessly as the great slate rock began to move. 

Jaccim pointed to the widening gap. He said in excited, broken Veritas. “Opens! Opens! How works, is supposed to. Path! Path!” The Veritas and the Nomads of the Southern Desert were both familiar with doors but the doors that had used were always small, meant to accommodate one person at a time. Cat Eyes and Lion Slayer had seen larger doors in the ROI city, but the door that opened before them now grew wider and wider. The door slid to reveal a gaping hole, as tall as four or five warriors. The rumbling continued for a time. At last, the door stopped and beyond lay a deep cave. 

The group slowly approached the entrance. Jaccim held the ropes that hung about the horses necks and spoke to them in a low, gentle, reassuring voice. The mare readily drew near but the young colt balked. He flared his nostrils and whinnied. 

Most of the human travelers were reluctant to approach as well. They came to the entrance and peered inside. The inner cave seemed to disappear into blackness after a few feet. No-one could tell initially whether there was another wall, a deep chasm, a giant cave bear, a snake pit, or something worse. After a few moments, Cat Eyes turned to Jaccim, “Is this the path you remember, Jaccim?” 

He nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes. This goes beneath the mountain to the Veritas beyond. This is the path.” 

Trunk of Tree grunted. “I am not going into pure blackness. How do we know there’s a path in there?” 

Cat Eyes laughed, “Look, Trunk of Tree. Use your eyes. There’s the path. Right there.” 

Lion Slayer and Hudah Salah exchanged looks. Lion Slayer said, “We don’t see a path either. I see solid ground for a little while. Then, it’s just darkness.” 

Fleet of Foot and Easy Tears agreed. 

Cat Eyes groaned. “What? Can’t you see the lights? Can’t you see the path?” 

Reluctantly, the group moved beyond the edge of darkness into the cavity. They looked up and could barely make out the high ceiling. As they stepped in a few more steps they felt swallowed in darkness, as though ingested by some giant stone being. As their eyes begin to adjust to the dim light, they shuffled farther into the space. After a few minutes, they began to see what Cat Eyes had been talking about. Before them lay a gently curving path of a darkish and continuous rock. And indeed all along the massive walls were a large number of dim lights. Encouraged, fearful, yet curious, they strode in even farther. Jaccim had managed to calm the horses enough to join them.

Easy Tears spoke. “I don’t like this. I think it’s amazing. But it still scares me. Should one of us stay behind to warn others in case…in case, no one ever comes back?” 

Cat Eyes asked Jaccim whether it was safe. He nodded enthusiastically. “I used this. I have heard of others using it. It’s a … safe path.” 

Cat Eyes translated for the others though they sensed that he genuinely believed it safe.   

After a few more minutes, they crept further in and their eyes adjusted still more to the semi-darkness. Now, they began to noticed the markings on the sides of the great cave. They included pictures but also the markings that they had been decoding back at the Veritas camp. Everyone continued and no-one offered to stay outside in case of disaster. Even Trunk of Tree forgot his misgivings as he walked into a world so different from everything he had seen or heard described. 

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Behind them, they heard a distant rumble. Too late, they realized the door behind them had just shut completely. 

———————————————————-

 

Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration   

Travels with Sadie Teamwork

The Walkabout Diaries: Life Will Find a Way

The Impossible

The Orange Man

The Forgotten Field

Somewhere a Bird Cries

The Crows and Me

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Imagine All the People     

A Difficult Journey

17 Sunday May 2026

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

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empathy, ethics, family, fiction, leadership, legends, life, myths, politics, problem_solving, sense_making, short story, stories, story, tales, teamwork, truth, Veritas, writing

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Trunk of Tree awoke just as the morning sun dispersed the fog. He sat up and then regretted it. Dizziness overcame him along with a pounding headache. He lay back down and the pain in his head doubled. His comrades began to notice that he had awakened. 

Easy Tears asked, “How is the head of Trunk of Tree this morning?” 

Soon the others had gathered around. “I’m fine. It’s late. We should leave soon. Where are we? Where’s the river?” 

Glances were exchanged and in a single minute of silence, Fleet of Foot was nominated and unanimously chosen as the one to take charge of telling Trunk of Tree what had happened and when exactly which truths should be told. 

“Last sunset, we were camped by the river and ready to settle down for the night when Jaccim noticed the horses were terribly nervous so indicating danger. There was lightening on the mountains and later we could hear water rushing toward us. Things got very confused then. You might have reminded us then about how Eagle Eyes used rushing water to destroy Cupiditas warriors. You might have led us to higher ground. You might have fallen at some point or been kicked by a horse, but you fell to the ground senseless at some point. Jaccim hoisted you onto a horse. He must be very strong, or perhaps you helped him a bit. Anyway, you lay senseless but safe all night. We tried to wake you up, but we couldn’t make anything like the roar of the water when the flood tore through here. Do you recall all the trees that were down there?” 

sunray through trees

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Trunk of Tree squinted his eyes. He took his head in his hands. “I don’t remember anything except we found water. And we need to find the Veritas. But we are Veritas. Aren’t we? But who is he? I don’t know you,” he said, pointing to Jaccim. “Why are there horses here?”

“Trunk of Tree,” said Fleet of Foot, “Listen to me. Look at me. I know for sure that you were bumped on the head hard. Hard enough to knock you out for hours. Your memory is … you need to take it easy for a few days till you remember what’s happening. We are Veritas. Yes. But this woman, Cat Eyes, told us of cousins over the Twin Peaks. And, this man, Jaccim, confirmed it. We are headed there now to learn what we can learn from these people. You are leading us. But for now, you should rest and let your head —- your head is like a bird nest that’s been scattered by the storm. Like the bird, you must now rebuild it from those broken pieces. Do you see?” 

Fleet of Foot looked first at Easy Tears and she nodded to him. He had done well, but her eyes shifted back to Trunk of Tree. He was going to go along with it. Easy Tears thought: Perhaps he had somehow learned a lesson to listen to those who know more. Or, perhaps feeling weakened put him in a more receptive mood. We will see whether this is a cool breeze or winter coming. Easy Tears looked back to Fleet of Foot and nodded again. Message received. 

For the next few days as they took it easy till Trunk of Tree seemed to have recovered his full strength, if not his full memory. After three such days of slow walking to accommodate the recovering leader of their expedition, they reached the foot of the first of Twin Peaks. At first, the path was fairly clear and open. Cat Eyes began to have a tingling on the nape of her neck. I am going home, she thought. I am at last going home. Will I remember anyone though? Or, will I be like Trunk of Tree and only remember my new friends? She shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to go through this whole sequence yet again. There’s no point, she told herself firmly. I will see soon enough, at least I will if this fool Trunk of Tree doesn’t get us killed by his stubbornness. He was still groggy, she thought. Maybe I could just pretend to like him, lie with him, and then in his sleep, while everyone else is asleep, I could… end him. 

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Cat Eyes was somewhat startled to see Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot standing before her. Easy Tears spoke and the revenge fantasy dissipated like fog. “Does any of this seem familiar to you yet?”

“Oh. Oh, no. But I don’t expect it would. People stayed in our settlement for the most part. Venturing outside was … unnecessary … and also dangerous. We knew there were evil people out there. I mean who else would steal children away from their parents?”

They all considered this for a moment. 

Easy Tears said, “Suppose you met someone, fell in love and had a baby. And suppose you raised this baby for years. And then, someone stole your baby away. Wouldn’t you try to steal their baby away and trade it for getting your own back?”

Cat Eyes nodded. “I might indeed. I might get my revenge. But it has to be the right person. I can’t take it out on Trunk of Tree. It’s not his fault.”

Easy Tears and Fleet of Foot looked at each other. Easy Tears said, “Trunk of Tree? What does he have to do with this?”

Cat Eyes stared at the two of them. “Sorry. I was thinking about something else. Back to your story. Why couldn’t I just tell them that I would take their child unless they gave mine back?” 

Fleet of Foot nodded. “That might work. But the other person might simply keep your child but be more on guard about their own children. They might take your threat as a warning and they would prevent you from actually doing it.” 

“Especially,” added Easy Tears, “if they had Killing Sticks.” She paused for a moment. “So, I might. If that were the only way to get my own child back. Strike without warning.” 

After a fair pause, Fleet of Foot said, “What if that’s what the reason the Z-Lotz have the ROI steal children?” 

Easy Tears was taken aback. “What? What are you talking about? They stole Tu-Swift. They stole Dah-Nah. They stole Cat Eyes, too. No-one stole their children. At least, not yet.” 

Fleet of Foot continued, “But how do we know that? If we had stolen children, or our grandparents’ grandparents had, would we have sung songs about it? Even if it never happened, the Z-Lotz might think it had happened. Most of them may think they are somehow protecting their own children. Or trying to get their own kids back. I don’t know.” 

They sat, for a time, in silence. It was time to break camp. As Cat Eyes stood, she looked the two of them intently. “I know. I know how to tell.” 

“How is that?” asked Easy Tears. 

She answered in a quiet, venomous voice, “If you stole a child in order to get your own back, would you make it perform sexual favors for you in the meantime?” 

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“No,” answered Easy Tears, “of course not. That’s disgusting.” 

“Nor I, of course. Horrible,” said Fleet of Foot and he grimaced.

“I thought not,” said Cat Eyes. “That’s how you know they are evil. There is no excuse for raping a child no matter how many lies they tell about it.”  

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Author Page on Amazon

Start of the First Book of The Myths of the Veritas

Start of the Second Book of the Myths of the Veritas

Table of Contents for the Second Book of the Veritas

Table of Contents for Essays on America 

Index for a Pattern Language for Teamwork and Collaboration  

Somewhere a Bird Cries

Peace

After All

All We Stand to Lose

We Won the War! We Won the War!

Who Won the War?

The Crows and Me

The Silent Screams of Dead Men’s Dreams

At Least He’s Our Monster

Shadow Walker’s Shadow Walking

16 Monday Mar 2026

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, psychology, Veritas

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fantasy, fiction, hatred, leadership, legend, myths, peace, problem_solving, story, strategy, Veritas, war, writing

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To ameliorate his impatience with the slow, ankle-sprained progress he made in his search for Tu-Swift, Shadow Walker entertained himself by thinking through the ways to be a more stealthy warrior. 

{Translator’s Note}: I used the expression “entertained himself” because from what we can tell, the Veritas very much enjoyed learning from others and from oneself. Such improved skill might well save his life. In our culture, we would therefore perhaps call it “practical” and it would be irrelevant whether it would be entertaining. But they thought that most activities were at once practical, entertaining, and educational. 

Shadow Walker’s internal dialogue continued: I have my eyes of course, he thought, and it is much harder to see in the dark. But besides that, I see differently in the dark. More like a cat. It’s hard to see color. And, I’m more sensitive to movement. Not everyone sees as well as I do. And, some, like Eagle Eyes see far better. At this, Shadow Walker’s logical flow diverted. He began to wonder yet again about all the missing members of the search party. He and Eagle Eyes had worked through the trials for the rings of empathy together. And, though he only knew him a short time, he had come to like and respect Lion Slayer. Still, he felt his main priority was to find Tu-Swift. Though already quite fast a runner, he was still relatively small and inexperienced. He thought: Eagle Eyes was an experienced fighter and possessed excellent vision. She would see an enemy coming before that enemy saw her. Probably. But it all depends…and he returned to his considerations of how to make himself stealthier with respect to sight. 

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He explored this theme for a time, going back in his own memories about how various factors affected his vision. He recalled from the empathy trials that a person’s state influenced what they saw. If they were hungry, they would tend to see things more as food. If they were thirsty, they would see things more in terms of moisture. And so on. It occurred to Shadow Walker that the beautiful symmetry in the clothing that adorned so many of the Veritas actually made them much more visible as targets. A more random pattern like fallen leaves…

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Shadow Walker smiled at the recollection. When he was about six winters old, he had been playing in some autumn leaves when one of them suddenly jerked upward in a buzzing flight! The Praying Mantis is a fairly large insect and it had seemingly appeared from nowhere and startled him greatly. So, color and pattern as appropriate to the background would help. Masks. Yes. The face was the most distinctive and obviously human part of a person. Now, it occurred to Shadow Walker that perhaps the ceremonial masks that they sometimes wore had once been part of a camouflage outfit. Perhaps once such masks had been necessary for hunting or war or both. 

All the Veritas were trained while stalking to wait and move only when the wind moved. But perhaps there was more to that skill as well. He had noticed that the wolf pups had far better hearing than he did. And sense of smell of course. But now, Shadow Walker thought about the ears of horses. They moved like those of the wolves and were also large. A horse could probably hear the slight snap of a tiny twig much better than a human could. If the People Who Stole Children still had their horses, he would have to be very careful indeed not to be heard too soon. 

brown horse

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With another flash of insight, Shadow Walker realized that if these People Who Steal Children were going to insist on being enemies, it would be well for the Veritas to learn much more about the ways of horses. It seemed to him, in their brief exchanges before the fire had separated them, that Tu-Swift had already begun down that path. Perhaps it would be necessary to make friends with horses as the Veritas had done with wolves, eagles, and many plants. To encourage plants to grow, it was necessary to learn what each plant wanted. Some wanted much water; others less. For some, planting a small fish nearby seemed to help them. Others had to be groomed of pests. Maybe it was the same with horses. 

Shadow Walker reminded himself to stay alert to the task at hand. At last he reached the edge of the burned forest, but the “cover” there was hardly better than in the burned out field. After only hobbling a few hundred yards in the remains of the burned forest, he noticed odd indentations in the earth, spaced an arm’s length apart. He had never seen a track like this. He bent down and picked up a small piece of charcoal. He twirled it in his fingers and it disintegrated. Then, he looked at his hands and noticed they were smudged with ash. He decided to pattern his body and clothes like a fawn, dappling both with black splotches of varying size. 

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Ahead of him, the wolf pups were excitedly sniffing at a large black blob. As he limped closer, he saw that it was the charred body of a deer. He peered at it and realized that something had turned it and examined it, perhaps for edible meat. There was none. The destructiveness of fire was complete. Shadow Walker thought of the legend of the Orange Man who, through his own greed, had destroyed a complete village and himself as well. Perhaps the People Who Steal Horses had done the same. Perhaps they were all dead. But perhaps not. He smiled, realizing that it was Many Paths more than anyone else who had taught him to consider a wide variety of alternatives before taking action. 

Suddenly, a wave of love and longing for Many Paths came over him. The image of her smiling face floated before him. He sighed. Why would people come and steal Tu-Swift? And, Dah-Nah too for that matter. He ground his teeth as he thought: They are a cruel people!

He began to fantasize some particularly nasty tortures for them. Then, he realized that he himself did not want to become as cruel as they are. He did not want to feed the “bad wolf” within himself. It would be easy right now to feed the “bad wolf” within. Those people astride horses had done so much damage to the Veritas, to the fields, the trees. The “good wolf” seemed to have gone for a moment. Then, he noticed that the two real wolves right beside him both stood rigid, their ears turned, their nostrils flared. They stared behind him. 

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He spun around in time to see the flash of a sword. His ankle gave way as he ducked and spun. He fell hard against the blackened deer carcass. As the warrior stepped forward, Shadow Walker shot his good leg out and swept the warrior’s forward leg out from under him, causing the warrior to fall and yell out, perhaps warning others. Shadow Walker’s powerful arms pinned the warrior’s arm behind him and he twisted it hard. The man struggled mightily, twisting, turning and falling onto the sharp triangle of a burned tree stump. The stump shot clean through the man from belly to back. He began to scream and tried to free himself. Shadow Walker twisted the sword from the man’s hand and lay his own weight atop the man thus further impaling him. For a moment, he found himself enjoying the sound of the man’s ripping flesh. The screams soon became a weak bubbly burble. 

Shadow Walker scanned the forest remains, alert for more warriors who might be drawn by the screams. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. The hungry wolf pups were much more interested in lapping up the spilled blood than anything else. They seemed quite unconcerned about further attack. Perhaps this had been a lone survivor and perhaps not. Shadow Walker remained crouched down for several minutes. At last he became convinced that he was not in immediate danger. He stood up and began to examine the sword. It consisted of something not earthly, yet familiar. This, he suddenly realized, was made of the same stuff as the door on circles that they had encountered on the way here. What was this strange metal? And, how could they have made a sword this smooth and even? 

black and white building construction industry

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Perhaps there was more to be learned from this enemy than the training of horses. They seem to have better weapons as well. The wolf pups began tearing at the flesh of Shadow Walker’s would be killer. It occurred to him that it might be a mistake to let them taste the flesh of humans. It was too late to stop now. He wanted to examine the warrior more closely, but did not want to have the wolves think he was attempting to “horn in” on their “kill” but soon they had their fill and he examined the corpse. In the dead man’s tunic he found a small leather pouch which contained three circles of gold. 

This is odd, thought Shadow Walker. Why make gold into a circle? The disks also had strange markings on them and the image of a face. These are a very odd people indeed, thought Shadow Walker. He secured the sword and the pouch with the gold disks around his waist with leather thongs. Then, he began making his way toward the village. Again, the forest seemed completely deserted. Yet, he remained wary. He followed the odd track. It seemed to him that it could well be the track of someone using a make-shift crutch or cane. It might be Tu-Swift. But it might be another warrior from the People Who Steal Children. 

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Soon, Shadow Walker could see clear spaces beyond the edge of the charred forest. In those clear spaces, the burned remnants of the village of the People Who Steal Children stood. Fire, he reminded himself, was not something to be toyed with. He had to admit that he had felt a strange wave of pleasure wash over him when the heard the ripping sound of flesh. That fire of hatred and cruelty must be contained or it would destroy him as thoroughly as the forest fire had destroyed the People Who Steal Children. Shadow Walker moved cautiously; moved with the wind; moved from shadow to shadow, as his eyes searched the open spaces for signs of life. 


Author Page on Amazon

The Legend of the Orange Man

Story of Feeding the Good Wolf vs. the Bad Wolf

Where does your loyalty lie? 

At Least He’s Our Monster

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Guernica

After All

Somewhere a Bird Cries

We won the War! We won the War!

The Crows and Me

Peace

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Dance of Billions

The Isle of Right

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Don’t Throw Out the Baby with the Bathwater!

08 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in creativity, essay, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

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AI, leadership, life, management, mental-health, politics, Problem_finding, problem_solving, thinking, truth, USA, writing

On Throwing Out the Baby with the Bathwater. 

adorable baby beautiful bed

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Babies are a pain. Let’s face it. Of course, they are. But they are also a joy. Not only that, they are the future of humanity. Yet, it’s true that they require a lot of attention. And, they have unpleasant by-products, bathwater being one of the least unpleasant. But we say, “Don’t throw out the baby with the bathwater” because we humans do have a tendency to over-emphasize whatever the negative aspects of something are and take for granted the good parts. 

For example, let’s say that your furnace goes out. You are sitting there one cold, wet November evening, before winter’s knife edge of cold is softened by the splendor of a snowfall’s sparkle. No, this is an evening for complete relaxation; it’s the end of a frustrating day at work. Time to settle down with a little Jack Daniels on the minimal rocks and watch the next episode of your favorite TV show. But you find yourself thinking: “It’s cold in here!” So, up you go to see whether someone — certainly not you — has set the thermostat too low. No, you see that it’s set to 72F. But the actual temp is only 67F. No wonder it’s chilly. You put on your slippers and pad down the basement stairs to look at the furnace. It’s not running. 

burning campfire

Photo by Berend de Kort on Pexels.com

You feel that you have been cheated out of your richly deserved and eagerly awaited evening of relaxation. Instead, through no real fault of your own, you find these plans and dreams in shambles and you have to go through a series of hoops, each of which will steal some of your money, and equally important, steal some of your time away from activities you’d prefer. The path in thinking that is tempting to take is to “throw out the baby with the bathwater” and decide that the company or the manufacturer is evil. (They might be, of course; my point is simply that deciding that on the basis of the evidence at hand is not warranted). You might even decide that all heating companies or even all companies or, in extreme cases, everyone else is evil. 

A similar line of thinking, again completely understandable, is something like the following. “Well, when I grew up, we just put everything in the trash. You know. We didn’t have to recycle things. If it was good enough for my parents not to recycle, it should be good enough for my kids.” It really doesn’t seem fair. After all, you were just doing what you had been taught was right and now, all of a sudden, like an infomercial embedded in a sit-com, you are supposed to do something different that does take some extra time. And why? 

assorted plastic bottles

Photo by mali maeder on Pexels.com

As the population of earth grows and grows, our own behavior will inevitably be influenced by a greater and greater number of people. That would be true even without the fact that nearly half of earth’s 7 billion human beings [That was early in 2019; now, it’s 8.3 billion and 68% have access].  now have access to the Internet. Sometimes, that interconnectedness puts constraints on your behavior or makes you feel uncomfortable. On the other hand, that same interconnectedness is what allows so many people (hopefully you included) to live in far better circumstances than did any Medieval king. 

Because we humans trade skills, and natural resources, and cultural strengths, and ideas, and money throughout this whole diverse world, our standard of living is a symphony of glorious possibilities instead of a tuning fork forever singing the monotone of “Sing, Johnny One Note.” But we tend to take for granted the affordable laptop, the central heating and air conditioning, the car now fitted with life-saving seat belts and air bags, the cancer treatment that saved your life, or the pollution regulation that prevented you from getting the cancer you would have gotten without those regulations. You have access, I hope, to a public library and the Internet where you can find out about the world’s great architecture, the world’s great ideas, the world’s great art. Think about that. The world’s knowledge is at your fingertips. Not just the knowledge of your family, or your town, or your state, or your country — the world’s knowledge. And, of course, it isn’t just you. More than 5.5 billion people on earth have this access. And, they can invent, and learn, and dialogue together to create a much better world. 

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And that much better world will necessarily be different from the world of today. Being different means that people such as you and I will need to change; learn; and sometimes we will be uncomfortable. It’s understandable that it’s somewhat disconcerting. But we need to look at this in balance. The modern world gives us many good things. Yes, it has some unpleasant side-effects. If we work together though, with the knowledge of the world at hand, we should be able to find ethical and effective paths forward. 

It isn’t only in terms of world-wide cooperation (or lack thereof) that we need to take a balanced look. It’s easy to get frustrated with an actual baby and temporarily forget how wonderful it is. It’s easy to get frustrated with college courses, or roommates, or spouses, or co-workers, or technology, or stop lights, or —- when what is really causing that frustration is not the totality of any one of those things. Stop lights actually speed you on your way! If you’ve ever been to a busy intersection when the traffic light stopped functioning, you’ll quickly see how much worse off things are without the traffic light. 

black traffic light

Photo by Davis Sanchez on Pexels.com

So, please, let’s all have the best 2026 that we can. But when you encounter one of the many frustrations of modern life, let’s try to do a better job of seeing the totality of the system, not just the bothersome part. It’s not easy. When your down jacket, usually so comfortable and warm, happens to send the spiky end of a feather into your neck, it’s natural to focus for a moment on the sharp spike. Okay. We all do that. But let’s also remember that ancestors, not so long ago, would have loved to have a down jacket against the winter freeze. 

beautiful blowing cold cute

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater! 

————————————

Author Page on Amazon. 

Corn on the Cob

Finding the Mustard

What about the Butter Dish?

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

You Bet Your Life!

Essays on America: The Game

The Self-Made Man

Wednesday

The Stopping Rule

OOPS!

The Update Problem

Roar, Ocean, Roar

Tools of Thought: Symmetry

07 Wednesday Jan 2026

Posted by petersironwood in management, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

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beauty, Business, Design, HCI, human factors, Human-Computer Interaction, poetry, politics, problem_solving, symmetry, truth, UX, Web design, writing

Symmetry

IMG_3316

(Original, free-hand drawing by Zoe Colier).

There are many varieties of symmetry. Symmetry exists rampantly in nature and symmetry is also incorporated into many human designs. In this short essay, I want to remind people of several varieties of symmetry and then show how symmetry may also be used as a tool of thought to help solve problems by simplifying the space of possibilities that must be considered. 

Symmetry is a concept with far broader application than cutting out paper snowflakes or choosing a nice looking Christmas Tree, Menorah or other Holiday decoration. It is fundamental in logic, mathematics, physics, chemistry, biology, and even in social science.

Symmetry exists at many different scales as well. Planets are generally roughly spherical and their orbits are roughly circular. 

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The human body, along with most other animals, exhibits rough bilateral symmetry in external appearance. If you examine your own fingerprints or the pattern of your moles, for instance, you will see that one side of your body looks slightly different from a mirror image. If, like me, you are a righty who play tennis, you will find the forearm muscles on your right arm are slightly larger than those on the left. What is remarkable to me is not that there are slight variations between left and right but just how slight those variations are. And, we are not alone. Fish, insects, flatworms, roundworms, snakes, turtles, lizards, horses, dogs, cats, apes, and humans are all roughly bilaterally symmetrical in appearance. I say “in appearance” because our internal arrangement of organs is not at all symmetrical.  

External Appearance and Internal Organs

In general, it seems to me that most animals possess more complete or “perfect” bilateral symmetry than do most plants. I suspect that this is because animals generally move through a physical environment. Since we can move around, the environmental forces are generally symmetrical and so our ability to react to those environmental forces is also symmetrical. A tree, on the other hand, may have a genetic “blueprint” to be bilaterally or (more likely) radially symmetrical, but it may be subject to strong asymmetrical forces such as wind, a water source, or sunlight versus shade. 

Our designed objects are also most often (at least) bilaterally symmetrical, and particularly for those objects which must interact and move through the physical world. Cars, boats, motorcycles, busses, trains, trucks, bikes, skis, surfboards, roller skates, ice skates, snowshoes and tennis shoes all tend to be bilaterally symmetrical. On the inside, however, again just like us, there are often some irregularities. The arrangement of controls of the car, for instance, are asymmetrical. (Each control in itself often does show symmetry. In some cases, this makes it easier to use, especially without looking. I suspect that the symmetry may often be for aesthetic reasons, for ease of manufacturing, for ease of maintenance or replacement or some combination.) The asymmetry of arrangement “works” because the arrangement of displays and controls does not interact with the natural world the way that the car body and wheels do. The controls are designed to interact with a human being. There are also rough conventions for where controls are laid out, how they operate, and what each type looks like. Asymmetry of arrangement is also evident under the hood. However, some of the components such as the engine, the battery, the radiator have symmetry within them. The radiator, which arguably has the most interaction with the outside world, is symmetrically placed though its plumbing is not. 

automobile car customized drive

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In the design of User Interaction and Experience, an argument can be made for certain kinds of symmetry. For example, in the Mac editor Pages, which I am using to write this, if the B for bold button background turns blue when bolding is turned on, I expect the background will turn back the way it was (white) when bolding is turned back off. I also expect that italics and underlining will behave the same way, especially because all three are in the same toolbar. 

Where possible, it also generally makes sense, I believe, to design so that the functionality of a system is symmetrical. This isn’t always possible. Some actions are necessarily irreversible. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone who has toddlers or who has pets. In the real world, if you shoot someone dead, you cannot “unshoot” them. Unlike a computer system who asks, “Do you really want to delete all your files?” before doing so, guns do not ask that. If you are designing what can be done with a toy robot however, if you can make it go forward, you want to make it so it can go back as well. If it can turn right 90 degrees, you would like to enable it to turn left 90 degrees. Saying, “Oh, yes, but don’t you see, you can, in effect, make it turn left 90 degrees by making it turn right 90 degrees three times?!” does not cut it, IMHO. 

Typically, you not only want the functionality to be symmetrical, you also want the control functions and appearances to mirror the symmetry of the functionality. For example, if you can issue the command: “MOVE ROBOT FORWARD THREE PACES” you want the symmetrical function to be evoked this way: “MOVE ROBOT BACKWARD THREE PACES” and not, “THREE PACES BACKWARD FOR ROBOT MOVE.” If you decide to give auditory feedback for the first command that says, “ROBOT MOVING FORWARD THREE PACES” you do not want the reverse command to provide feedback that says, “ROBOT THREE PACES BACKWARD MOVING.” (Oh, by the way, if you cannot provide symmetrical functionality, please do not pretend to do so with a facade of symmetrical looking commands that actually behave asymmetrically!)

action android device electronics

Photo by Matan Segev on Pexels.com

A lack of symmetry (or consistency) in the functionality, command structure, or visual appearance often arises because of a lack of communication within the development team. If different functions of the robot are to be implemented by different people, then it’s important that those various people use an agreed upon style guide or Pattern Language or that they  communicate frequently. Of course, this is not the only cause of asymmetry. Even if your team communicates really well, they can’t design an effective gun with an “unkill” function. 

There are, of course, various types of symmetry. Bilateral (mirror) symmetry is what the external appearance of our bodies has. There is also translational symmetry, where the same shape is repeated along a line. The string ABCCBA shows bilateral symmetry while ABCABC exhibits translational symmetry. Most human factors people now agree that hot water faucets (usually on the left) and cold water faucets (usually on the right) should both be turned off by turning to the right and turned on by turning to the left (translational symmetry) as opposed to having the faucet on the right turn off to the right and the left faucet turn off to the left. But you will definitely experience both types. 

In both music and poetry, at least in the culture I am most familiar with, translational symmetry is more common than mirror symmetry. It does sometimes happen that musical composers experiment with playing a tune backwards or even with the staff turned upside down. But this is far less common than repeating a theme or melody. Similarly, a rhyme scheme like ABCABC is much more common than is ABCCBA. {In this notation, ABCABC means that the first line rhymes with the fourth line, the second line rhymes with the fifth line and the third line rhymes with the sixth line.} 

black and brown millipede on a green and brown branch

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In biology, we also find translational symmetry or something close to it. The segments of a tape worm, the segments of the body of a millipede or centipede, the small legs of a lobster, and even our own vertebrae and ribs show translational symmetry. In social structures as well, we find both mirror symmetry and translational symmetry. For instance, the Golden Rule says to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. In addition, as it happens, if we are nicer to other people, then, generally speaking, they are also nicer to us. This is not always true, however. Some people simply take advantage and view all of life as a zero sum game. Whatever you gain, they lose and vice versa. This is a very limited, inaccurate, and self-defeating attitude in most social situations. Most social situations, are, of course, much more complicated. Generally speaking, there are a great many situations that both you and your “opponent” or even your “enemy” would agree are good and a great many others that both of you would agree are bad. If you are playing tennis or golf outdoors, for instance, you may be fiercely competitive but both of you would probably find a game that brings out the best play is better for both of you. Both of you would probably also agree that being rained out is a bad outcome.  

men in black and red cade hats and military uniform

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In the military and in many industrial settings, there is a great deal of translational symmetry. The “ideal” set-up is to have many groups at each of many levels and each group is meant to be as similar as possible to all the other groups at that level. The marching that military groups learn is both symbolic of this translational symmetry and practice in behaving as a unit composed of identical parts. Whether or not this is the best way to run a military is debatable. To me, it’s undeniable that this management style has been imported into a huge number of organizations where it is definitely not the best way to organize. 

The last thing to note is that symmetry also pops up in design. There is often a whole series of information exchanges from people who have quite different areas of expertise. These exchanges can result in mutual learning, solutions that work, and often patents, and occasionally, some really cool, transcendent, game-changing designs. In my experience, it is much better to have a design process based on symmetrical relationships founded in mutual respect than to have a design process based on having someone in a hierarchical power relationship make decisions that are to be implemented by an identical set of “underlings.”  

macro photography of snowflake

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

The Takeaway

Symmetry is everywhere. There are many forms. If you start looking for symmetry, you will find examples in nature, in mathematics, poetry, art, music, machine design, the military and even in design problems and design processes. Thinking quite consciously about the types of symmetry that exist in a problem space and what could or should exist in that problem space, can lead to novel solutions.

 

——————————————-

Author Page on Amazon. 

The Walkabout Diaries

Local Symmetries

Alternating Repetition

The First Ring of Empathy

Donnie Takes a Blue Ribbon for Spelling

Travels with Sadie

It was in his Nature

A Cat’s a cat

A Suddenly Springing Something

Hai-Cat-Ku

Hai-Ku-Dog-Ku

The Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

 

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