Essays on America: I Made Myself Breakfast

20 Monday Feb 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, psychology

Tags

breakfast, collaboration, cooperation, life, peace, teamwork, truth, USA

Photo by Julian Jagtenberg on Pexels.com

I made myself breakfast.

Have you ever said to yourself, “I made myself breakfast.”

This morning, I made myself breakfast, and the picture below is what was left. A few shreds of sauerkraut and one moldy blueberry.

The complete breakfast included an English Muffin, Peanut Butter, blueberries, kale, sauerkraut, two garlic-stuffed olives, and a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

I made myself breakfast.

But did I?

In this picture you see a plate, a fork, and a napkin. Not only did some person initially come up with idea, but hundreds of people vastly improved the making of pottery and silverware and napkins. These particular items probably travelled many miles and were touched by many people’s work before they ended up in my possession. I can afford them because we live in a peaceful, mainly cooperative society. I certainly couldn’t make them on my own. And if they were made the way that they were a thousand years ago, only royalty could afford them.

The wooden tray? That too shows obvious signs of change over the years from the time one of our ancestors decided to eat off a half-log. You might see some lettering. The tray says, “LET IT SNOW!” None of the other things mentioned above would have been possible without the invention and improvement to language.

So far, my “self-made breakfast” involves thousands of ancestors who made any of this possible.

My “self-made breakfast” also involves thousands of contemporaries from around the world who cooperated to bring these particular items to the San Diego area.

We haven’t even gotten to the food.

Let’s take the English Muffin, just as an example. Some of our ancestors might well have procreated and then “tried out” something as a possible food but guessed wrong and died. They figured out which grains could be eaten, how to grow them, how to harvest them more effectively than to shell one seed at a time; how to make flour; how to bake bread. In my case, there’s another whole line of inquiry related to the discovery of electricity and its taming and distribution so that I can toast my English muffins. There are similar hundreds of our fellow human beings (and their supportive communities) who were involved in today’s peanut butter, today’s sauerkraut, garlic stuffed olives and so on.

Once again, there are not only countless people from all over the world who were involved in the development of these food items. There are thousands of people from all over the world who helped get these particular items to our kitchen.

It’s also true that if I’d been brought up by wolves, I wouldn’t know how to access or use any of these items. Not only that, my life has been saved numerous times by modern medicine. But “modern medicine” didn’t just drop out of the sky one day. None of these modern luxuries popped up like a mushroom. People worked hard and thought hard in order to all me to have a nice breakfast. However, it would be more accurate to say:

Humanity made breakfast for me.

Photo by Gabriel Santos Fotografia on Pexels.com

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Roar Ocean Roar

The Only Them that Counts is All of Us

Dance of Billions

Corn on the Cob

Patterns for Collaboration: Rituals

25 Tuesday May 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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collaboration, cooperation, Pattern, pattern language, ritual, teamwork

Author, reviewers, revision history:

John C. Thomas, Draft – May 22, 2021 (Draft)

Synonyms:

Rites. Observances. Routines. Habits. Sacrements. Ceremonies. Protocols. Programs. Practices.

Abstract:

Many groups, and not only religious groups, perform various rituals. Some are done periodically like daily prayers. Some are done on special occasions such as baptism, graduation ceremonies, marriage ceremonies, last rites, funerals, etc. Rituals appear to address many issues simultaneously.

Problem:

Rituals, so far as we can tell, are quite old. They seem to serve several purposes. It isn’t clear to me which of several purposes they were originally “designed” to solve.

Here are the problems they seem to touch on and offer partial solutions to:

In many cases, it is necessary for groups of people to work in a coordinated fashion. If each person separately develops their habits for dealing with things, conflict and confusion can arise. How can the group behave without interfering with each other?
Some rituals deal with major life changes. When Complex Adaptive Systems are faced with major changes, a whole host of individual changes and adaptations may be necessary to deal with the new circumstances. Too much change can induce exogenous depression. The person simply does not know what to do. Exogenous depression may be a coping mechanism to avoid making a catastrophically wrong decision before the person has had a chance to adapt to the new circumstances. However, in some cases, action must be taken before people have had a chance to let the implications of the new circumstances “sink in.” For instance, a death in the family has many implications. No-one knows quite what to do. Yet, something must be done. How can one behave when one is too depressed to think straight?
In very small groups, such as the tribes we evolved in, everyone knew everyone personally. As groups grew larger and larger; in order to accomplish more ambitious tasks, for instance, it became difficult for people to recognize who was in their “in-group.” How can one recognize who is in one’s group when there are too many people to know personally?
People grow aware of their own mortality. How can one gain a sense of belonging to something that transcends the boundaries of their own bodies when their own bodies are limited in space and time?
As groups grow larger and larger, there will be more and more diversity of abilities, capacities, styles, and so on. How can we keep track of what people are like?
Human life is complex and so is the human behavior that attempts to deal with that complexity. Our behavior at time t is influenced by what happens before hand and especially what happens directly before a given activity. If it is important to perform something at time t precisely, it helps to preface the action with a series of actions right before the critical time t. This also “loads” working memory with the same material.

Context:

Forces:

Individuals naturally have somewhat different ways of doing things.
Having individuals do things in different ways means that some individuals will discover, invent, or happen upon ways of doing things that are superior.

Group behaviors, to be most effective, require some degree of coordination.

* Some situations are so stressful and/or novel that people cannot make reasonable decisions.

* Some situations require action in a timely fashion.

Solution

Communities develop rituals over time. A community ritual may address any subset of at least five problems at once:

It provides a set of roles and procedures so that people may act together without interfering with each other.
It provides people with a “plan of action” that they can follow in times of change without having to try to think it through individually.
A ritual provides a kind of behavioral “test” that shows whether someone is in our “tribe.”
A ritual, since it has many common elements over time and space, reminds us that we are part of a larger effort.
Precisely because rituals are to be done in a common way, they partial out those aspects of behavior which are due to circumstances and motivations from those that are due to abilities and inherent styles.
When someone seeks optimal performance of a complex behavior, it can help to preface the complex behavior with a series of preparatory behaviors that are performed in exactly the same way over and over.

Examples:

First, I present below some “porto-rituals” from my own life that I don’t claim are examples of what people generally think of as rituals, but which are behavioral “in that direction” which solve each of these subproblems.

I do most of the food preparation for my wife and I. We mostly like the same things, which is handy. But sometimes, there are slight differences in preferences. For instance, I never add salt to my portions. In some things, my wife likes additional salt. Therefore, I alway prepare her drink or dish on the left and put mine on the right. This just avoids confusion. One might imagine however, that over generations such a heuristic could evolve into an actual ritual; e.g., women’s portions are on the left; men’s are on the right.

As I learned more and more psychology, it became more and more feasible to use what I learned in order to teach others or help others. But when? How much is enough? When do (or should) people “trust me” enough to take my advice? The ceremony, credentials, and rituals around getting a degree provide a handy shorthand that is generally though not universally accepted as showing that the point had been reached where my advice was “valuable enough” to receive credence (and reimbursement). This was much better, in my opinion, than having to decide every single day, “Should I stop learning and get a job today? No? How about tomorrow? How about the day after?”
One of the things that people in many academic communities do is review papers and grant proposals. In my experience, the reviewing process is partly influenced by reading signals about whether someone is in or not in the appropriate “tribe.” In a study of a new computer interaction technique, for instance, in my “tribe” it is not enough to simply claim that a new technique is superior. One is expected to show empirical evidence to that effect. If one does not do that, it detracts from the credibility of the claims. More than that, however, it signals to the reviewer that the author is not yet a full-fledged member of the community.
My mother was one of those people who always returned shopping carts to the store rather than leaving them in the parking lot. I do the same. I want to model good behavior for others, and avoid unneeded wreckage of carts and unneeded scrapes on the paint jobs on cars. But another motivation is that it reminds me of my mother. Since I am carrying on her tradition, it gives me a small feeling of continuity across generations.

In a similar fashion, my grandmother told me stories that she made up herself. I create stories for my grandkids (as I did for my kids as well). Apart from other benefits, this gives me a feeling of being part of a tradition which I think is beneficial for me, for my descendants and for society.

I organize some tennis games for some of the local tennis players who are about my age and ability. In order to do this, I book courts and then send out email asking everyone on the distribution list whether they can play. Anyone who wants to play replies. Around 7 pm the evening before the upcoming tennis game, I let everyone know whether they are “in.” I’m not claiming it’s exactly a “ritual” but only that it’s a kind of “proto-ritual.” It has ritualistic elements. One of the people I play with — actually one of the very best players — cannot consistently perform this ritual. Sometimes, he shows up without informing me. Sometimes, he send three emails telling me he wants to play. Sometimes, he responds to an email from weeks prior. The fact that he is unable to perform the ritual shows a fair degree of impairment in working memory. If you simply observed him playing tennis, you might never know this.
In tennis serves, golf putts, baseball pitching, and many other athletic and non-athletic behaviors that require top performance, many people find it helpful to engage in a consistent series of overt behaviors and thoughts before the critical activity. Engaging in a preliminary ritual is not only a performance enhancer; it is also a learning enhancer. It essentially means that if you are trying some new “tweak” in your tennis serve, the way you putt (or trying a new putter) or trying a slightly different way to throw a knuckle ball, you are keeping every other variable as constant as possible.

Resulting Context:

Rationales:

Metaphor:

The earth revolves around the sun. If the the gravitational attraction between earth and sun were much less, the earth would fly off into space and soon all water would freeze and life would soon cease. If the gravitational attraction were much greater, the earth would soon spiral down into the sun and the planet would be incinerated.

A society, group, team, or partnership must similarly have a balance between centripetal forces that tend to make it collapse into a singularity and centrifugal forces that tend to make it fly apart. Ritual can be seen as one of the centripetal forces that keep groups together.

As an individual lives their life, they will typically do some things in a fairly creative and ever-changing manner and other things will become habitual and routinized. For example, there are several ways to tie shoes but most adults only use one way. Unless, as once happened to me, you break your arm, you need pay little conscious attention to shoe typing. Anything that gets the job done is sufficient.

Related Patterns:

Context-setting entrance.

Meaningful initiation

Build from Common Ground

Known Uses:

Singing “Happy Birthday.” Playing the National Anthem before sporting events. Taking exactly two practice swings before a golf swing. Saying grace before a meal. Going out for a beer at a particular pub after every game. Reading the mission statement at the beginning of each “All-Hands meeting.” Reading the minutes of the previous business meeting at this business meeting.

References:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ritual

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Systems_of_Survival

Pan, Y., Roedl, D., Blevis, E., & Thomas, J. (2015). Fashion Thinking: Fashion Practices and Sustainable Interaction Design. International Journal of Design, 9(1), 53-66.

Schuler, D. (2008). Liberating Voices: A Pattern Language for Social Change. Cambridge MA: MIT Press.

Thomas, J. C. (2017). Building Common Ground in a Wildly Webbed World: A Pattern Language Approach. PPDD Workshop, 5/25/2017, San Diego, CA.

Thomas, J. C. (2012). Patterns for emergent global intelligence. In Creativity and Rationale: Enhancing Human Experience By Design J. Carroll (Ed.), New York: Springer.

Discussion:

What new rituals could be designed to remind people of their relationship to all life on earth and the impact of today’s actions on future generations? Could such rituals help remind people to “do the right thing”?

Are there existing rituals which could be used as is, or modified, for ecological purposes?

An introduction to Pattern Language

Pattern Language Overview

An index of Patterns

BOUNCE!!

17 Thursday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

America, collaboration, cooperation, Democracy, Georgia, leadership, pandemic, politics, teamwork, USA

BOUNCE!

The white line under the jumping man’s shadow is the “baseline”

I love to play tennis. Before I learned tennis or even knew it existed, I learned badminton. I love badminton as well as table tennis and racquetball. Now, living in San Diego, the weather gods are kind enough to shine sun and blue and warm so that tennis is often possible seven days a week. Unfortunately, my 75 year old body has issues with playing every day.

Before COVID, I went to the gym every other day and lifted. I still exercise my muscles but I can’t quite make it as effective as using real weights. Lack of strength and having flat feet combine to put a lot of stress on my feet and knees. Before COVID (will we call this “BC” at some point?) my strength was good. I was nearly as strong as when I was 16.

As it turns out though, lifting strength is not the only factor that determines how well you can run and jump. The body has, in effect, a number of “springs.” When someone runs (at least when a young person runs), fully half of the power for a running stride comes from the rebound of internal springs which provide power from the previous stride. Our human running springs are primarily the arch, the Achilles tendon and the quad muscles.

My own arches, sadly, have never worked properly. When I step down forcefully, rather than compressing and expanding, my foot slips inward and does not rebound. But the muscles and tendons have also become less resilient with time. Wearing orthotics helps align my body and lessens pain in the arches. But orthotics do not provide the “bounce” of the natural bone arch as it rebounds from the previous step. Nonetheless, I enjoy playing tennis. It’s good for the body, the soul, and the mind.

I enjoy playing singles but I mainly play doubles. And doubles also provides a variety of lessons (and challenges) in teamwork.

Here’s one.

Consider that you are positioned near the baseline of the court (far away from the net) and someone hits a ball right at you. As it turns out, it is much much easier for your partner to tell whether this shot is going to be long or not than it is for you yourself to tell. Just today, for instance, I was standing just inside the baseline when a deep shot was hit right at me, about waist high. My partner yelled, “BOUNCE!” I let it go. I might mention that my partner’s eyesight is not so good as mine is. I’m not putting him down. That’s just a fact. Nonetheless, I prepared to hit the ball out of the air until I heard my partner yell “BOUNCE!” When that happened I pivoted and let it fly by me, turning so I’d have a good at where it landed. Two inches out.

It turns out that a similar kind of teamwork is important in the outfield of a baseball game. If you are playing in the outfield and a long fly ball is hit toward you, it is devilishly difficult to tell whether the ball is going to land near you, in front of you, or behind you. When a well-coached team plays, the outfielders will call out to one another and give guidance about whether a ball hit directly to another outfielder is going to land in front of them, roughly where they are or far behind them. In a poorly coached team, they do not help each other in this way.

In a well-coached team, the fielder who is not going to catch a high fly ball does not simply “zone out” and think, “not my play.” Instead, they are still cognizant of their ability and responsibility to help out their teammate who is going to catch the ball, even though they are nowhere near that teammate. Competition for fame, fortune, recruiting, salary, etc. all push toward not helping each other out. But normal people on normal teams actually have a normal reaction to want to help the others on their team. Good coaching enhances a feeling of teamwork. It also involves explaining, at least to the younger players, the ways in which they can help each other. Calling “Forward” or “Back” to a fellow fielder is only one of the many ways teammates in baseball can help each other.

The man behind the mask (the Catcher) and the outfielder trying to throw a player out who is trying to score — that is a delicate sort of dance so that the outfielder throws the ball the spot where the Catcher can most likely tag the runner (advancing player) out.

For a team to function at the highest level, there has to be both the skill to know how to coordinate and mutual trust. Mutual trust means everyone looks out for each other and wants everyone to succeed. Some teams lack one or both of these qualities. If they lack both, it will be nothing more than a set of individuals doing assigned tasks. That is both less effective and a whole lot less joyous way to play Baseball or Tennis. (Or, Life, for that matter).

Perhaps you’re not a fan of tennis or baseball but you like golf. Watch one of the most prestigious tournaments of all, the Masters, played at the remarkably beautiful Augusta National. The winners of the Green Jacket show their excitement with a riotous palette of smiles, tears, cheers, and beaming. Regardless of how the excitement is exhibited, the winner shows a lot of excitement. That level of excitement does not, however, even begin to compare to the degree of excitement that the victors exhibit in the Solheim Cup competition nor the Ryder Cup where teams are competing against each other.

There’s no comparison, to my eyes; or, in my own experience. Don’t get me wrong. I love to win an individual match. I am very competitive, likely too competitive. But I still experience a team victory as — not only more joyous. It’s a different level of joy. A private victory is much like a bite of my favorite food; perhaps a handful of cashews. I love cashews.

But a team victory? That is more like going out to dinner (if you can still remember BC times) at a wonderful and unique restaurant. I think this feeling is nearly universal. The intensity and even quality of that feeling depends on the quality of the teamwork. If the team really knows how to work together and has the empathy and motivation to do so, and if that teamwork is largely the source of the victory, it is all the sweeter.

The best teams have the skill and the motivation to cooperate well. Mediocre teams will lack one or the other of those qualities. Poor teams will have neither the desire to cooperate nor the skill to do so. But there is a fifth type of “team”: one composed of people who are actively working against each other. This is like a cancer in an organization.

If Susan sees Charlie fail to help Barbara as promised, Barbara will be less likely to help Charlie. She may even help him fail. But Susan does not remain unaffected either. She may also try to avenge Barbara. Or, she may say to herself, “Well, hell, if Charlie can get away with blaming someone else for his mistakes, why can’t I?” Mistrust, disloyalty, inefficiency, high turnover rates, actual violence in the workplace, absenteeism, theft — just as you would expect, higher costs are associated with all of these things and all of these things are more common in a toxic environment — one where people cannot trust each other.

In tennis, the on-court team is only two players. You might think the cooperation is simple. It’s more complicated than that. Believe me — or don’t — but it would be another whole essay to explain. One factor that’s important in all types of teamwork is mutual trust. If my partner says “BOUNCE!” and I let it go repeatedly only to watch it drop well in bounds, I’m eventually not going to trust those judgements of my partner any more.

Notice that trust broken is difficult to bounce back from. And, like arches, muscles, and tendons, when a society gets older, it may well have less “bounce” when it comes to forgiving betrayals. Perhaps the same is true for individuals.

I don’t know. But it seems to me (as a liberal) as though Trumpists believe liberals are betraying Trump. But why should a liberal have any loyalty whatsoever to Trump. Initially, I felt some loyalty to the Office of the Presidency, and was willing to watch him with an open mind, but he has shredded trust like a pet hamster named Liberty that fell in the document shredder. Only, in the case of Trump, the pet hamster didn’t just fall in the shredder. Poor Liberty was thrown into the shredder. And, when the legless and hapless hamster tried to squirm its way out, he grabbed a handy Barr to push it back in.

There’s something even worse, from my perspective. My “teammates” on the “other side of the aisle” are being conned. From my perspective, over here, on the side, it is painfully obvious. To them, it is not obvious. The cons are coming right at them like a high line drive and they cannot see how deep these shots are or how close they take us to the brink of a fascist dictatorship or utter anarchy.

I try to tell them, “BACK! BACK!” But instead of going back, or asking someone else, they continually insist they are not being conned. And then, they ask me why I hate America and hate Baseball. (Neither of those are true, by the way).

The ball falls over their head; the other team is scoring runs; and they deny that anything ever happened! They don’t only deny they were not back far enough. They deny there was a ball even hit to them. Or, they insist that they are free and as such, they don’t have to back up just because I say so.

They don’t even run back and get the ball that landed behind them! Someone else has to do that. I look at the scoreboard, and what I see is this:

COVID19 — 300,000 dead
America – 12,000,000 unemployed

They apparently look at the scoreboard and see:

Liberal Hoax — 300,000 supposedly dead

DOW —————30,000

Donald Trump worked from day one of his Presidency to put our American “team” in the fifth and last category: a divided team without mutual trust.

We have the skills of teamwork. We have the motivation to act as a team. What is missing is trust. Americans do have the skills to cooperate across every kind of divide. Most Americans do have the desire to work together on some serious problems such as immigration reform, sensible gun control, addressing climate change, increasing employment, decreasing crime, improving our standing in the world, stopping systemic racism. I don’t say all Americans share these goals, but most do. At a more fundamental level, we all want a shot at a decent life and a chance that our kids will do even better. That’s what most people want. We can get all of that and more with teamwork.

The hardest part of that will be recovering and rebuilding mutual trust. There has been colossal betrayal that goes way beyond policy differences between liberals and conservatives or between Democrats and Republicans. Until the Trump administration, there was an expectation of truth; there was an expectation of hiring excellence for the government; there was an expectation that we would face a common enemy like Russia together; there was an expectation that we would all take an oath of office seriously; there was an expectation that people in high places would not, with absolute impunity, line their own pockets from the public treasury. There was an expectation that a President of the United States of America would tell the truth about a deadly pandemic and not spread lies about it and model lethal behavior. There was an expectation that both Republicans and Democrats would put our Democracy and the legitimacy of our elections ahead of conning followers out of millions of dollars just to line the pockets of Donald J. Trump.

All those expectations were broken. Trust was broken. Now, we have to try to see that we’re on the same team and work together.

We can do it. But it won’t be easy.

The most important thing that liberals, Democrats, Republicans, conservatives, and independents can focus on is that our election worked. I don’t just mean that the technology worked or the process worked. What’s most important is that the vast majority of both Republicans and Democrats worked together to make that election happen and be counted and be reported. Yes, there were some high-ranking high-profile Republicans who seemed to be joining the Trump “Let’s Destroy America!” Train; the Trump “If you don’t want me, fine! I’ll burn your silly little democracy down on the way out!” Train. But thousands and thousands of people of all political stripes and all across this country came together to make it work. People in the Great Plains worked together; people in small towns worked together; people in large cities worked together — Republicans and Democrats.

Those who supported Trump need to understand that we were not trying to rain on their parade or hate on them. We were trying to tell them that the damned ball was going over their head! They were being conned! (And many still are). Being conned can happen to anyone. And it’s pretty much always the case that it’s easier to see from the side as shown in the following dialogue.

Grandpa: “Oh, Grandson! You’ll never guess what happened today. I got a letter in the mail from this really nice man in Kremblinia and he’s giving me…us, really… a million dollars! Isn’t that amazing!”

Grandson: “Grandpa. No-one gives away a million dollars!”

Grandpa: “No, no. You don’t understand. It’s not exactly a give away. He can’t get to his money because of political problems in Kremblinia. You know. It’s in Africa. I guess they have corruption there.”

[Au: There!!??]

Grandson: “It’s still a scam.”

Grandpa: “No, it’s real. He just needs my bank routing number so he can wire me the money into my account.”

Grandson: “You didn’t give it to him, did you?”

Grandpa: “Of course I did! You think I’ll turn down the opportunity of a lifetime? Why are you being so negative?”

Grandson: “Call the bank. Quick. He’s going to rob your account!”

Grandpa: “Let me just show you the letter. You can just tell he’s sincere. He’s very religious actually. He was taken from his mother when he just a little kid. Horrible. They do that there. Anyway, he became a Prince in this whole region, but then the Muslims came in. I forget all the details. I’ll show you next time you come over. You’ll see.”

[Au: There??!!]

Grandson: “CALL THE BANK! Before it’s too late!”

“BOUNCE!!”

———————————

My Cousin Bobby

Essays on America: The Stopping Rule

Essays on America: The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

Ramming Your Head into a Brick Wall Doesn’t Make you a Hero

Index of Best Practices in Collaboration and Teamwork

Author Page on Amazon

The Winning Weekend Warrior — book on sports psychology

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

14 Monday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 58 Comments

Tags

collaboration, cooperation, harmony, leadership, poem, poetry, singing, teamwork

There’s a teeny little bird

And he’s sittin’ in a tree

And he thinks that he’s the cutest thing

That ever there could be

But he’s really quite absurd.

He’s never learned to truly sing.

His feathers all awry,

He isn’t very spry;

He cackles like a jackal.

Like a wounded pterodactyl,

He whizzes on his wing.

And fails and flails at everything.

There’s a teeny tiny bird

Who sits atop my fountain.

He screams he’s on a mountain

But he’s really quite absurd.

He cannot speak one loving word.

He keeps on countin’ countin’ countin.’

He gawks and stalks the birdie girls

Who are hardly more than chicks.

He squawks and talks and hurls

Hate and fear and bloated ticks.

He overlooks the very thing

That could have let his melodies ring.

This most have known for ages past:

It isn’t screaming hate or flying fast.

It’s loving all of every hue;

Whether black or white or red or blue.

Then the song itself turns true.

And all return the love to you.

The song of sweet with every beat

Now ripples with fountain’s bleat,

Echoes from the mountain peak.

Tickling back upon the beak

The world wide, the answer’s known.

No-one wins from a louder groan.

There’s a teeny little bird

And he’s sittin’ in a tree.

At last, he sings eternally.

It seems at last, he knows the Word.

Some say “Life” and some say “Love.”

Some say both — when sung in harmony.

Let’s sing each to each in harmony.

Let’s make this earth a better place.

Not only for the human race.

Let’s remake Eden where we each can be.

Let’s sing “Love!”; Let’s sing “Life!” Let’s sing “Grace!”

Let’s sing in perfect harmony!

Introduction to a “Pattern Language” for Cooperation

Index to Pattern Language for Cooperation

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Life is a Dance

Piano

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

Author Page on Amazon

The Itsy Bitsy Spider & the Waterspout

08 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

America, arachnid, collaboration, COVID, politics, spider, teamwork, USA, web

I do admit that spiders kind of creep me out.

However…

They are also a rather amazing family of creatures. Much like humans, they have managed to reach most of the lands on our planet. Spiders produce silk which, by weight, is five times as strong as steel.

https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2018/11/spider-silk-five-times-stronger-steel-now-scientists-know-why

Some make beautiful webs. And some are themselves beautiful. In any case, like every other advanced life form, their internal structure is an incredible design fitted to their environment.

Their behavior is part of that beauty as well. I had an opportunity to observe a fairly large one for a few days. She had built a web, larger than a bicycle tire, all across the entry way of our back deck. My wife and I liked to go out on the back deck, but both of us were reluctant to destroy the beautiful symmetry of the web. I spent some time watching and she always returned to the center of his web after every “search and destroy” mission that she carried out. As soon as something hit the web, she rushed out unerringly to the spot where the unlucky mosquito, fly, or small moth struggled to set itself free. I only saw one insect succeed before the spider wrapped his prey and bit it to immobilize it. After wrapping up the unlucky prey, the spider would go back to the center. The center is a wise place for her to hang out. It gives the minimum maximum distance to “get to” the prey. And, it allows maximum discrimination for which direction to go. It also allows the spider to “run” the same “algorithm” to get to her prey.

Once, it happened by chance, that two little flying insects hit the web simultaneously and quite far apart. The spider rushed off to one of the two and wrapped it immediately in its silky tomb. Then she returned to the center. She seemed to recall that somewhere out there was another meal, but she didn’t know where. And the insect caught was no longer struggling. So — the spider began systematically “plucking” the radial strings of her web one by one. At last she came to the strand which led to the position of the fly who was attempting to play possum. But once that strand vibrated, the fly, out of what might be something like fear, began to struggle again. That was a fatal mistake. In a flash, the spider’s hypothesis confirmed, she ran up that strand and wrapped up that prey as well.

In The Hobbit, as well as The Lord of the Rings, large spiders are willful villains. It’s much the same in Harry Potter. It’s rare for a spider to be one of the “good guys” but it does happen; e.g., in Charlotte’s Web. Spiders can hurt and even kill people. But it is very rare in the United States; on average about 6 per year. About 30 are killed from stinging insects; about the same number as dogs. About 130 are killed from collisions with deer. The biggest killer worldwide, in terms of complex animals is the mosquito. Those critters have partners of course. They transmit malaria, dengue fever, Zika, encephalitis and other diseases. Spiders trap and kill a lot of mosquitos. Does that make them our friends? Is the enemy of my enemy necessarily my friend?

The truth is that the web of life has many players and is a constant dance. We try to make sense of it, but we are not really in a position to really understand how the estimated 8 million species interact. In a few cases, like the novel coronavirus, it seems pretty clear that the virus is not friendly to humans. In this case, the “vector” that transmits the virus is not a mosquito. It’s other human beings — especially those who don’t wear masks or socially distance — who are acting as vectors, spreading disease, and killing their fellow Americans. Is the friend of my enemy my enemy?

A house divided against itself cannot stand.

Which is exactly why Putin is working so hard to divide Americans against each other and to break up the EU and NATO.

Have you heard the story about the tailor who killed giants by hiding in a tree and throwing stones at the giants? Each giant assumed another giant had thrown the stone and they ended up killing each other while the tailor sat hidden in the tree. Except in our case, we know there’s a tailor in the tree throwing stones and it makes no difference. Weird.

Meanwhile, the spider spins a web. Watch her grace. Watch her unity. It isn’t simply the left hand knowing what the right is doing. It’s every one of her eight hands knowing what each of the other seven is doing. When they don’t fight with each other, much can be accomplished.

Author page on Amazon

The Isle of Right

Opponent does not mean enemy

The Declaration of Interdependence

Two Boxes: Each Contains the Other Box’s Key

18 Wednesday Nov 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

fiction, leadership, legend, myth, peace, psychology, puzzles, story, tale, teamwork

“Breathe.” Many Paths gave herself this advice today. She had given it to so many others and had heard it all during her childhood from the elder Shaman, She Who Saves Many Lives. She intentionally calmed herself. She looked over to her mentor who seemed to be getting better yet again. Many Paths no longer trusted these improvements. Three times now, the Old Mother had seemed to have finally fought off the Red Death of Tiny Spiders, only to later slip back into a fitful and feverish sleep. Now, once again, She Who Saves Many Lives sat up in bed and beckoned for more of the healing tea.

Many Paths turned toward the entrance to her cabin and said, “Tu-…” but then, she broke off. She chuckled at herself and shook her head. Just yesterday, she had decided to send her younger brother, Tu-Swift, off to the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. Many Paths thought he was the best person for it and not only because he would find the most pleasure in it, though that weighed heavily in her decision. Tu-Swift — so easy to get along with! Perhaps that was because she was his younger brother. No, she reflected that she got along very well with She Who Saves Many Lives, and with Eagle Eyes and with — well — most of the tribe. But things had gone horribly wrong with POND MUD and ALT-R. And yesterday — she sighed at the memory — things had not gone well with Trunk of Tree either.

She handed the healing tea to She Who Saves Many Lives whose hands seemed steady; her gaze, quite alert. Many Paths judged it would be quite all right to let the Old Shaman sip the tea herself. Nonetheless, she was startled when She Who Saves Many Lives spoke up so strongly and clearly.

“Lost in thought, Many Paths?”

“Oh, well, yes, but I need not burden you with it. Drink your tea and rest. That’s what you need, Old Mother.”

She Who Saves Many Lives laughed — and laughed without coughing — another good sign, thought Many Paths.

“I suspect I have a great deal more experience deciding what I need, dear Daughter.”

Many Paths reddened. “Oh. I didn’t mean … I’m glad you’re feeling better. I just don’t want to see you slip back into illness,” said Many Paths.

“I know, dear. I appreciate that. Don’t worry. I’m not going to jump out of bed and run down to the river. But I think it would do my mind well to focus on something. If it’s private, of course, you don’t have to tell me. But you do seem troubled.”

Many Paths looked carefully at She Who Saves Many Lives. “I — I cannot seem to get along with Trunk of Tree. I worry. He gets angry so easily. He tells himself a story that makes him angry — and then, he doesn’t bother to find out whether the story is even true! It makes me so — “

The Old Shaman’s eyes twinkled. “Angry?”

Many Paths shook her head and laughed. “Yes. You got me. I get angry too. But — I don’t stomp off somewhere. Honestly. He’s strong. We could use him. We’ve lost so many people, and there are so many things to do — all at the same time — and — instead of helping…. I want to see Shadow Walker every bit as much as he wants to see Eagle Eyes. Surely, he must know that!”

She Who Saves Many Lives tilted her head and as Many Paths looked at her, she realized that the Old Mother had the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth and more than a hint hiding behind those deep and ancient eyes. Many Paths pursed her lips together and shook her head. Then, she chuckled. “All right. All right. He does not really know. That’s the essence of the problem. He grabs hold of the first picture that comes to mind…and now I am doing the same. Despite my name.” Many Paths shook her head again, and sighed deeply. “All right, Old Mother. But what can I do about it. You are such a good teacher. But how do I teach someone who refuses to even consider another opinion?”

“Ah, the answer to that would be quite useful indeed! If I had the answer to that puzzle, Alt-R and POND MUD would still be with us. My dear, I am sorry, but I had some fever and I’m afraid my memory is not quite…remind me again why Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes are not here yet.”

“Of course. Sorry. We got a message tied to the leg of one of the eagles that were trained. Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes, as you may recall, went on a reconnaissance trip to the Great Stone Village of the Z-Lotz. There, they were captured. No, no, don’t frown yet! Here’s the amazing part. They are ruling there!”

Many Paths smiled to see that she had quite surprised She Who Saves Many Lives, whose eyes had widened considerably, as she said, “Hah! How? How?”

“We don’t know. There was only room to write a little. They found the parents of Cat Eyes. They should arrive soon at our village. That’s all I know. I suppose I don’t even know that for sure. I feel it is true, but the message might have been sent by the Z-LOTZ as part of a trick to lure us into a false sense of security. But if that were the case, why would they say that our two scouts had been imprisoned? Anyway, even if they are “rulers”, I do worry. But, unlike Trunk of Tree, I’m not worried about them mating, which seems to be what Trunk of Tree is convinced has happened. I really wanted him to take a small party there to make sure everything is fine. At some point, I expect to see Shadow Walker again, but he — they — cannot just leave right away. At least, I can’t think of how they can. Anyway, Tu-Swift went to see the Veritas on the other side of the mountain. He’s being helpful, at least. But Trunk of Tree stormed off saying he didn’t care what they did with each other. So, now, I have to find a few others to journey there. I want….I want there to be peace, Old Mother, peace among all the tribes and among all the people. But I am having trouble even getting one man I’ve know my whole life to do as I say. How can I bring peace among all the tribes?”

“Surely you have noticed, My Daughter, that at night, if you want to see a dim star, you cannot stare directly at it. You need to look a bit off to the side. And sometimes, that works with difficult problems. Instead of charging into it, sometimes it helps to put your mind to something seemingly unrelated for a time.”

Many Paths sighed. “All right. I’ll try it. I’m only going in circles now, anyway. What should we discuss?”

She Who Saves Many Lives nodded. “When you told me this little story, an old puzzle came to mind. I don’t think I’ve ever told it to you, but I may have. Anyway, there are two locked boxes. Each contains the other box’s one and only key. The only way to open the boxes is with the keys. You can’t use a knife or termites, for instance. Here’s the thing. I am able to open both boxes. How is that possible, Many Paths? How can I do it?”

{Translator’s Note:} So far as the records show, the Veritas at this time had a unique way of making “keys.” Keys and locks were made at the same time by precisely breaking crystals. Apparently, because of this method, every lock had exactly one and only one key that would open it and every key fit exactly one lock.

———————————————————

Author Page on Amazon

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Watershed Virus

20 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 40 Comments

Tags

America, cooperation, diversity, life, love, poem, poetry, teamwork, truth, USA

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The virus splits us

How many tears are left?

One from another. Every day bereft.

Divides us. Stable genius.

One from another. Teeny tiny

They may call it: Pity party for the party

“Social Distancing” Of the absurd & no true word

But we already — We’ve been flipped; chipped

Distanced ourselves from others.

In the evil oil dipped — baptized anew.

gray industrial machine during golden hour

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We divided the world into countries,

How do we distribute goods?

Countries into regions,

Who deserves another raise?

Regions into cities,

Those who own the town?

Cities into neighborhoods.

Whom to blame & whom, to praise?

We speak different languages.

We all meet & greet; hate defeat.

We wear different clothes.

We all have garb for different moods.

We eat different foods.

We eat & dance & move our feet.

We hear different stories.

So we believe differently.

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But when we die,

How does that turn out?

As it turns out,

The same for everyone?

We are all dead when we die.

When did we start to doubt?

Not breathing kills us all.

As sure as a gun (but not as much fun).

In every land, I see tears.

For the ungrateful dead.

In every land, I feel fears;

For the future tense, unsaid.

Heroes fight to save each other;

Thank you, sister; Thank you, brother.

Heroes work to keep it together.

Sibling by another mother.

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Worldwide we face a hidden killer

It hides beneath falsehood & lies

And nearly all of us are trying

Greedy people make us fear.

To find a way to keep us all from dying.

Greedy people in a gentle guise —

Our days grow quieter and stiller.

Tell us only to like those just like us dear.

Bravery is everywhere; in every land

Even if not-leader leads the band.

We zoom a virtual meeting,

Even if he cowers from his role.

We play a virtual band

Even as his cruelty is his only lonely goal.

We wave a heartfelt greeting.

He snivels, swivels in this land.

And in this time of utmost need,

The time of hating passes and we

A very few show outsized greed

Can see once more our unity.

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They lie and cheat and steal each dime;

We know again we will one.

Use the crisis to spread their slime.

All we’ve been since we’ve begun.

Yet there is nothing worth that snort of power

They get from what could have been their finest hour;

Instead, letting every opportunity turn sick and sour;

They sneak & hide and lie and glower and cower.

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Heel spurs would never ever brave a bullet.

Not even a grown chicken; he’s just a pullet.

Afraid to fire people face to face.

Afraid to run a fair, untainted race.

At last, the vast majority will see their worth

We all will know the very roundness of this earth.

We all at last will laugh at tyranny’s yoke,

And shrug it off like a tired orange joke.

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We’ll work together you and me and all of all

We’ll mend life’s spinning precious ball.

We’ll only let true leaders head our bands.

We’ll only let the truthful lead our lands.

Seven billion souls will not be slaves,

However loud the loveless liar raves.

Life is for the living and we will find

Ways to grow our vast collective mind.

Heart to heart, we’ll dance new ways

To show our love and show our care.

Heart to heart, we’ll green our days;

We’ll build a world for all to share.

A world where fair is fair is fair.

Liars lie in muck and mire;

If you care, put out the fire.

Raise your voice in loving song.

Love, you see, is strongest strong,

Will conquer all this sickly wrong;

You and I can get along

Just fine without a tyrant king.

It’s love — just love — of which we sing.

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

Trumpism is a New Religion

Essays on America: Labelism

Use Diversity as Resource

Myth of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Math Class: Who are you?

Parametric Recipes and American Democracy.

Index of Pattern Language for Cooperation

Author Page on Amazon

Happy Easter!

12 Sunday Apr 2020

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

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Tags

cooperation, Easter, forgiveness, love, pandemic, poem, poetry, psychology, teamwork

Hi. Happy Easter.

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A message of hope is always a good thing. It doesn’t mean you don’t plan. It’s just that a hopeful attitude will be more likely to bring good results than a defeatists attitude AND you’ll feel better right up to the moment of success or failure. It’s true that you might be slightly more disappointed if you’ve been hopeful than if you’ve been despairing, but — so what? Hope takes some courage, but it’s much better than the only alternative.

And, to me, there is also another important message in the Easter story. Forgive your enemies. That doesn’t mean you don’t work to put appropriate people in appropriate places based on their actions. But don’t dwell too much on how bad they are; instead, model and rejoice in good behavior and there is — right now — a huge amount of that right now! It is just incredible! We see skill. We see courage. We see discipline. We see leadership. We see all the things on full display that make this nation and this world a wonderful place to live in. Yes, there is an undercurrent of evil, but celebrate and support the good things and the good people and the good leaders. Support the good. Throw your weight and your skill behind them. The forces of light always win over the forces of dark in the end. So, in that spirit, I’ll post this poem from 23 years ago.

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

The Forgotten Leaf

(Featured poem in Soul to Soul e-zine, Sept., 1997)

Blinding brave and gutful breaking rage made hate!
Gigantic boulders heaped on enemies’ brainless heads!
Burly muscles slashed and brawny bones bursted;
Horses trample; raw flesh burn; crush the being’s being!

Spiteful, I curse and ravishing prate —
And see the forgotten leaf I laid on my desk.
Shaking hands gingerly hold the withered brown.
I’m calm. My hate was only half-seeing’s seeing.

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Imagine all the People…

05 Sunday Apr 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

America, collaboration, cooperation, COVID-19, leadership, life, pandemic, plague, poem, poetry, survival, teamwork

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

Beyond the cloud,

The sun still shines,

It isn’t loud.

It never whines.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Beyond the cold,

The summer comes.

When spring is old,

The drummer drums.

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The rhythm’s wrong.

The tune is halt –

Ing, he says: “I’m strong.

It’s not my fault!”

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

When virus kills,

Says: “No-one knew.

All our illness; all our ills:

The blame belongs on all of you.”

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

Putin’s plan for planet earth:

“Kill it dead ‘cause I must die.

I don’t like a spring rebirth.

It’s hard on lethal spies

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Like me — who don’t really care.

Once I’m dead; no longer me,

It’s not really fair!

No-one should be allowed to be!”

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Trump is fully on board,

He thinks you should be too!

“A suicide pact’s the proper chord.

If I have to die — so should you!”

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Putin has plans for you and me.

He still thinks like KBG.

But we don’t have to play his heartless game.

He doesn’t even know your own true name.

photo of man and woman having fun with their child

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Live and right your country’s wrong.

You can sing a different song.

Dance away to a different tune.

Eschew the hate & picayune.

22FAC19F-5ABE-4C2B-8102-313BC7FAE5EA_1_105_c

Dance instead to the stars above!

Dance instead in honor of love!

Handless holding each to each,

A nation strong’s within our reach.

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Let nation’s rainbow colors show!

We will win and we will grow!

A smile beneath a mask will show!

Vlad and ilk won’t ever know —

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That reaching down to raise another

Makes us taller, Sister, Brother.

This is how a forest stands!

This, the key to freedom’s lands.

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Our globe is round and for a reason,

It’s love, it’s love that conquers treason.

Take my touchless hand! Stand tall!

All for one. And one for all!

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The wind is strong but we are stronger,

COVID lives long, but we live longer.

Take my touchless hand! And stand as one!

One for all. And all is won!

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

———————————————-

Author Page on Amazon

Shadow Walker’s Walk

19 Sunday Jan 2020

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

emathy, ethics, jealousy, leadership, legend, myth, story, tale, teamwork

A few days after Cat Eyes and the others told their tales, Shadow Walker’s ankle felt good enough to allow him to accompany Trunk of Tree as he checked on the Northern guard postings. He had taken to asking someone from the tribe each time he made a check. Although all the Veritas possessed detailed mental maps of the entire area, Trunk of Tree needed to see the entire area through new eyes that came from the knowledge that there are such things as Killing Sticks.

As they ascended the area known as White Pine Hill where the path could easily accommodate two abreast, Trunk of Tree, began to speak, “I’m glad you made it back okay. And, bringing back Tu-Swift as well. That’s something! Honestly, when you didn’t come back right away, I thought you would never find him. I mean, they were on horses. It’s just amazing that you ever found them.”

“As I said in my recounting, they were terrible at hiding their trail. It struck all of us as odd. Even the Nomads of the South. I thought they were just careless. Perhaps riding horses made them always impatient. I didn’t know about Killing Sticks at the time, but now, I am thinking that perhaps they had some so they did not feel threatened.”

“Perhaps, but our guards that were killed were surprised. I don’t think … wait. The only witness who was there was knocked out and doesn’t not recall much.”

“In any case, Trunk of Tree, they did not use them when they attacked us with the fire arrows. So, I am not convinced the ROI had any. Perhaps only the Z-Lotz have them. Perhaps, indeed, only Nut-Pi has one. He may feel that it gives him power and he doesn’t want others, even his own warriors, to have such a weapon.”

On they trod for a time in silence before Trunk of Tree resumed, “With so many of them and such fierce weapons, you can see why I thought you dead.”

“I suppose,” said Shadow Walker, after a pause. “I never really gave it much thought. Finding Tu-Swift and staying alive dominated my mind.”

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Trunk of Tree continued, “So, yes. Of course. Staying alive. But we did not know you were alive. I thought not and so, of course, I thought of the tribe and supporting Many Paths so…I just thought you should know. So now you do.”

Shadow Walker grinned, “So now I know what, exactly?”

Trunk of Tree seemed surprised. “What? Oh, you know. I thought it might be that the tribe would need to think about re-arrangements and things. And, now, oh — Congratulations! by the way. But back then, you were not officially betrothed. That’s what I mean.”

Shadow Walker laughed. “Trunk of Tree! Oh, Trunk of Tree! Where are you?! Where is the brave warrior from the Battle of the Three Paths? I hope when are in the next battle, you keep your words clear and sharp and pointing straight to the conclusion. That way, we can react on the same day as the battle.”

Trunk of Tree reddened visibly. “What do you mean?”

Shadow Walker stopped and turned toward Trunk of Tree in such a way as to stop him in his path. When he had caught his eye, Shadow Walker said, “Many Paths told me about your various attempts to woo her.”

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“I wouldn’t put it that way. I was thinking about the tribe.”

“OK, Trunk of Tree but now Many Paths and I are betrothed. And, if you want to think of the tribe, we need to keep our unity now more than ever. Don’t ask her again. Not while I’m alive.”

“Absolutely! I’m … I mean Many Paths is too … Honestly, who is stronger? Me or Many Paths?”

An image flashed into Shadow Walker’s mind. He saw Many Paths skipping stones along the river not far from the Center Place.

Shadow Walker said, “When it comes to who can heft a larger rock, you are stronger. In fact, you’re probably the strongest of the tribe. Though perhaps some day we should test that. I think I might be able to best you. When it comes to balancing many factors in coming to a good decision, she’s the strongest of all the tribe.”

Trunk of Tree nodded and they resumed walking. After a few paces, he asked, “Well, what about throwing stones?”

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“Throwing stones? Well, not all stones are the same, but I would guess you can throw similar stones farther than Many Paths.”

Trunk of Tree nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes! I should be able to throw stones farther. Yet, she bested me just a few days ago.”

Shadow Walker chuckled. “Tell me what happened. Exactly.”

Trunk of Tree stopped again and closed his eyes. “She challenged me to see who could skip a stone farther. I picked one up and threw it. Hard. And with some skill. Then, she did the same thing and skipped it twice as far! I swear she did.”

Shadow Walker laughed gently. “Oh, she’s done the same to me. But let’s go back to your description. Tell me again. You picked up a rock. Tell me about the rock.”

Trunk of Tree frowned. “The rock? A flat one.”

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Shadow Walker prompted, “What else?”

Trunk of Tree shook his head. “What else? There is nothing else. I looked down, saw a flat rock and skipped it.”

Shadow Walker nodded. “Right and what did Many Paths do?”

“She did the same. She stooped down, picked up a rock. Then, she … Hold on. She picked up another one. And another. What was that about? She picked up several and then…she lifted them and swung them and examined them. I remember thinking that she should hurry up and throw. But she picked one and then … well, actually, she still didn’t throw. She … felt the ground with her feet. What was that about? Anyway, she found a spot she liked and then…well, she still didn’t throw it. She twisted her body and her arm a few times. That’s like… that’s what we do with our legs before a race. I see. That’s what she meant by saying that preparation was important.”

“Right, Trunk of Tree. And that’s not all. She loves skipping stones. She’s done it many times. And though she never said so, I imagine she tried many variations of stone to find out the very best size for her, the best way to throw it, and even where to skip in the stream.”

Trunk of Tree slowed his pace again and asked, “What do you mean where? Surely, you can’t tell where a rock will skip!”

Shadow Walker replied, “I can to some extent. But I’m sure Many Paths can do it even better. If you hit the rapids, it’s more likely you get a bad skip.”

Trunk of Tree shook his head. “How do you … how can anyone get along with her? She’s so … she thinks so much!”

“We get along just fine. To me, it’s a joy that she’s always thinking of something I never would have thought of. But what about you? Eagle Eyes is the same way! She comes up with amazing ideas!”

“She does. But lately…since she returned. Things are different. I’m not sure she likes me any more.”

Shadow Walker gestured to a spot in the cliffs that rose steeply on either side of the path at this point. “That would be a great lookout point. And, these cliffs would be a good spot for a potential ambush. But why not ask Eagle Eyes to help you find good battle spots for us?”

Trunk of Tree sighed. “Many Paths made a similar suggestion. But what if she doesn’t like me?”

“You’re guessing what is in her mind and how she feels! Ask her! Or, just ask her to come with you and see how she acts. But do something! Don’t just imagine how she feels.”

Trunk of Tree & Shadow Walker came to a broad field. After a time, he spoke again, “Do you believe what Cat Eyes told in her tale?”

“Yes. I was very suspicious when I first met the ROI. But Tu-Swift pointed out something odd about them. It seemed they only would fight when they were ordered to. Anyway, I have many reasons, but I believe her story about the other part of the Veritas.”

Trunk of Tree said, “Yes. I believe that part. I think we should try to connect. Maybe they would help us fight off the Z-Lotz and their Killing Sticks. But I still feel that Cat Eyes knows something she is not sharing.”

“I agree, but I think I know what it is. She was taken at a very young age. They trained her for sex. That’s what I think. She’s never said that, but whenever anyone asks her about the time shortly after she was captured, a darkness comes over her, she stiffens, and her jaw becomes rigid and she says she doesn’t remember anything or remember much or she changes the subject.”

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Trunk of Tree made a face of disgust. “But she was only a child! Surely…That’s … why would anyone do that? That’s not natural!”

“No, it isn’t natural. It’s evil. But you see how it is with some people who will do anything for power. To them, being cruel to a child is even better because the child has no way whatever to fight back. And you can bend them to your will from an early age. Cat Eyes herself said as much though she doesn’t want to say anything about the horrible things that were done to her. I am afraid, Trunk of Tree, that these people who use Killing Sticks and Steal Children will show no honor whatever. We must train our people, even our children, how to kill without being caught — in case any such as Tu-Swift are taken at an early age ever again.”

Trunk of Tree nodded. He led Shadow Walker off the main path on to a small deer path that doubled back toward the cliff. They followed it as it zig-zagged its way up around the side of the cliff and up to the potential lookout that Shadow Walker had spied. It was a vigorous climb that often stabbed Shadow Walker’s ankle. The view from atop the cliff was worth it, however.

Somehow, it seemed to Shadow Walker, that high places like this allowed him to see everything in his life with perspective. He realized that he valued Trunk of Tree’s friendship and forgave him for seeking to replace him. Shadow Walker momentarily contemplated Many Paths with Trunk of Tree. Far from feeling jealous, he now felt a certainty that she would think circles around him. Shadow Walker smiled. She did the same to him, but he didn’t mind. She always showed him the paths of her thinking and he could follow them up to a high place where he could see the world more clearly.

He smiled more broadly as he felt deep in his heart that this was a great and beautiful land he looked upon. There were many wonderful people and he knew that though these Killing Sticks posed a great danger to the Veritas, his tribe would defend it to the death, he felt sure — each and every one of them.

One way or another, he thought, life and truth will survive and thrive. And so will we. So will we.

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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

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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

Tag Archives: teamwork

Essays on America: I Made Myself Breakfast

Patterns for Collaboration: Rituals

BOUNCE!!

How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

The Itsy Bitsy Spider & the Waterspout

Two Boxes: Each Contains the Other Box’s Key

The Watershed Virus

Happy Easter!

The Forgotten Leaf

Imagine all the People…

Shadow Walker’s Walk