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The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire

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Myths of the Veritas: Many Paths Finds Many Keys

21 Tuesday Sep 2021

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cooperation, empathy, fiction, leadership, legend, Many Paths, myth, tale, Veritas

Many Paths frowned. She looked down at the wrinkly old lady who had been — and still was — her mentor, her shaman, her friend. She Who Saves Many Lives was drifting off to sleep but with a smile on her face, despite the difficulties and discomfort of the Red Spider Plague. Many Paths herself smiled. Even in sleep, the old Shaman made her feel better.

She decided to let her mentor sleep. Many Paths had been about to ask for a hint about the puzzle she had just been given. Many Paths laughed to herself thinking, Just as well. Her “hints” are just as likely to lead the student astray as they are to bring sunlight to the right path.

Many Paths left the old shaman’s cabin and walked about the Center Place of the Veritas. She greeted various members of the tribe warmly, and once she had greeted everyone in sight and reassured them that she was cured and that The Old Grandmother was resting comfortably. She had discovered that greeting everyone and having a short conversation with them allowed the maximum chance for uninterrupted thought. So, she settled herself at the porch of her own cabin. She reviewed what the old shaman had said to see if there was a clue to this seemingly impossible problem.

“There are two locked boxes. Each contains the other’s one and only key. Yet, I am able to use the keys to open both boxes. How is that possible?”

First of all, why had she brought this up? Was it just something that bubbled up in the overheated brain because of the fever? Perhaps. But Many Paths reckoned it more likely that She Who Saves Many Lives had intentionally chosen this puzzle because it held something useful for the problem at hand.

Well, thought Many Paths, to be more precise — not the only problem at hand — there were so many. But the one she had shared with her mentor was how to bring together all the nearby tribes and broker a peace deal amongst them. Fires. Wars. Killing Sticks. Stealing children. It was all madness. And the Z-Lotz? Bringing the Red Spiders Plague on purpose? Giving them a gift which was really meant to sicken them? How could there peace with such as that? And yet — and yet, somehow her lover Shadow Walker and one of her closest friends, Eagle Eyes had become the leaders of the Z-Lotz! If, she reminded herself, the note brought by the Eagle could be believed.

Many Paths sighed. She wished she could talk it through with someone. Yet…she had a feeling that She Who Saved Many Lives didn’t give her the puzzle because she wanted the answer. The old shaman already knew the answer. It was specifically designed to move something within Many Paths. Many Paths laughed aloud at her own train of thought. She shook her head and muttered to herself, “Here I am. I can’t solve the puzzle she gave me so instead, I’ve given myself a still harder problem — trying to read the mind of She Who Saves Many Lives! I think if I know why she gave me the puzzle, it would help me figure out the answer. The much more sensible approach is to solve the puzzle and then it will be much easier to solve why she gave it to me.”

Many Paths closed her eyes and put her fingers to her temple. With her eyes closed, she became much more aware of the warmth of the sun on her face. She quite consciously relaxed her muscles and slowed her breathing.

She thought: Inventory. What do I know? There are two boxes. There they are. Many Paths pictured two large wooden boxes side by side. They were identical. What are they made of? Are there holes? Is it still a box if there are holes? Maybe it’s still a box, but they are locked boxes. Locked boxes are not really locked boxes if their are large enough holes for me to slide my hand through and simply grab the keys. They are supposed to be locked boxes. But why are they made of pine wood? No-one said anything about pine or even wood. They could be carved out of stone, I suppose or even of ice. The boxes could melt! But she said ‘use the keys’ — well, I suppose you could take the keys and warm them in a fire and then, use that heat to melt the ice…but no, I wouldn’t yet have the keys. I could wait till they melt naturally. Then I could grab the keys, but I wouldn’t be using them to open the boxes. Is melting a box really opening it?

So, how do I know the boxes are identical? Suppose I am one of the boxes? I am in the tribe but I am also myself — my own person — even though I lead the tribe. Something is nearby. I can hear the answer rustling in the bushes but it is still too dark to see it clearly. Two boxes. Not necessarily the same. One could be the tribe. One could be me. If I had the key to the tribe … and the tribe had the key to me….they could me the key I need to open me and I could give them the key to open them.

In the mind of Many Paths, the two boxes began playing with each other. She made them mentally chase each other in circles. Then, when she grew tired of that game, she had them continue their roles to the end. One of the boxes opened its giant “mouth” — a hinged side — and “eat” the other box.

Many Paths stopped breathing. Her eyes snapped open. “Of course!” She said aloud. Her first inclination was to run back to continue her conversation with She Who Saves Many Lives. But she shook her head. She’s likely still asleep, thought Many Paths, and besides. There’s the other half of the problem. Why did she…? Ah, of course!

Many Paths saw that the second puzzle — why she had been given this puzzle when she had been telling She Who Saves Many Lives how much she wanted to bring peace to the tribes but she couldn’t even control Trunk of Tree — that wasn’t a puzzle at all. It was obvious. If she wanted to change the external world to be more peaceful, she herself would have to be changed — perhaps more peaceful — perhaps not. The puzzle didn’t specify exactly what about herself she would have to change. A puzzle merely illustrates a principle. It never dictates real world action. All the Veritas were taught this early, including Many Paths.

Her intuition led her to believe the two “keys” were different in her dilemma just as they had been in the puzzle. But —she also believed that they would be closely related. Many Paths wanted to the tribes to be more peaceful, more truthful, kinder, more cooperative. She sighed and issued a short laugh.

Many Paths said to herself, I want all the tribes to be more like the Veritas. I want them all to be Veritas. But — I can’t bring six tribes together and explain that they should all be just like me … or even more like me.

Again, Many Paths had a sudden impulse to run back to She Who Saves Many Lives to share her new insight. And, once again, she immediately suppressed that sudden urge. Instead, she sighed. She did wish that she could discuss this with one of her friends. It was clear that she needed to make a change, but it also seemed obvious to her that it was just the sort of change that friends could help with.

She thought, My friends will see in the moment that I am assuming everyone wants to be a Veritas and point it out. Eventually, the new way will permeate my thinking. But which friends? My most trusted friends were all unavailable at the moment. I’m not ready to allow the spread of rumors about a meeting with all the tribes. It can’t be just anyone. Could I talk about it with Trunk of Tree?

Many Paths took a deep breath. She reckoned she could talk about it with Trunk of Tree, but first, she needed to really see and understand his point of view.

She thought, Prior to seeing him, I need to make a guess at his perspective and then I need to check it out with him. I can’t just assume it’s right, but I might make a start. He’s always thought he should be the leader because he’s the strongest. In his mind being strongest is the most important thing. I need to make him see that we all do think it’s important. We value his strength and all wish we had more of your strength. We also believe that other things are also important. And, it may be the case, that in some instances, being the strongest is the very most important thing for a leader to have. And, it may be the case, that in some other instances, being able to see the best, or hear the best, or speak the most convincingly, or think the most creatively. Who knows? We have a way to choose a leader. And in that way, I was chosen. It doesn’t mean that you are not the strongest. It does not mean that we care nothing about you or your strength. It just means that for now, the shaman judges that the seven rings of empathy were the best trials. Of course, the people are the final judge and if everyone wants to change the way we choose leaders, so be it. Perhaps everyone will decide a wrestling match should determine the leader — or, as with the Z-Lotz and Cupiditas, — a fight to the death. If the people decide that, then so be it, and I will support you. And so will Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes and Tu-Swift. But as it is, I am the chosen leader. That doesn’t make me your ruler. I come to you as a friend and I need your advice precisely because you and I don’t always see eye to eye. Here’s what I’m thinking….

Her thoughts continued: Of course, I must be open to many paths of conversation. Perhaps I should suggest that I speak uninterrupted for a time. Trunk of Tree could be a good confidant if he will hear me out first. It requires so much work though to work with him. Of course, the same can be said of getting the six tribes together. It’s like trying to weave…yes…it is like weaving! The tribes can all be different. We can do things differently. But the question is, what do we want to work on together. And let us move in different directions and make the whole basket stronger.

Many Paths felt relieved somehow and looked forward to having an honest conversation with Trunk of Tree. She circled through the village looking for him but he was nowhere to be found. She wondered if he had gotten so made that he had injured himself or even left the tribe. She shook her head. She was having a bad day of fishing or hunting. She chuckled to herself and thought: I was actually looking forward to talking with Trunk of Tree and he’s not here. Oh, I miss Shadow Walker!

Just then, the attention of Many Paths turned to the air. She heard a distinct drumbeat pattern that someone safe was approaching. She thought: It looks as though I will have my conversation with Trunk of Tree after all.

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The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas: The Wobbly Man

Essays on America: The Isle of Right

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts

The Myths of the Veritas: Night Moves

19 Sunday Sep 2021

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fiction, legend, myth, tale, Veritas

Shadow Walker sat in silence at the edge of the dimly lit “Royal Chamber.” It was his turn to “stand watch” and though he had trained his mind to concentrate, his mind nonetheless wandered from time to time. He thought of many things, but mainly of Many Paths. Despite the myriad talents of Eagle Eyes, he wished Many Paths were there instead. The mind of Many Paths was well suited to thinking through the current dilemma. Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes had agreed to provisionally treat his three chosen ministers as confidants. He had hated to do it, but he fed each one of them different “confidential” information which he asked that they not share with anyone else. In this way, he could eventually success whom he could really trust.

In the “Royal Bed”, as it was known, they had folded extra blankets to make it appear that two people were sleeping cuddled together. Meanwhile, he and Eagle Eyes had agreed to take turns watching to see whether any assassin would appear. This much, at least, seemed like a good plan for now, but they needed their sleep. It wasn’t sustainable to stay alert on short sleep indefinitely. And besides, it wasn’t only in their sleep they could be assassinated. Even if they managed to avoid death at night, could they be on their guard sufficiently to protect themselves the entire rest of the day? Day after Day?

At least being potentially beset on all sides helped Shadow Walker stay awake for his shift. He could see the form of Eagle Eyes lying asleep on the floor near the opposite wall. He cared for her. She had already saved his life at least twice since arriving at the City of the Z-Lotz. For now at least, the Z-Lotz as well as the remnants of the ROI treated him as king and bowed down deeply to him. This was a move which invariably sickened Shadow Walker inwardly, but he tried to portray the face of someone who would find such actions pleasant. For this image, he chose his memory of Trunk of Tree whom he imagined would like it if people bowed down to him.

Trunk of Tree. There was another dilemma. Trying to convince Many Paths that I was dead? Trying to take her for his own mate though — what about Eagle Eyes? He was good in a battle. That much was so. Perhaps, he … he takes actions that might lead to war because that is what he’s good at? This will not help me here though…although, it does relate to trust. Trust.

Trust is hard! That much seems certain. Trunk of Tree and I have been friends our whole lives and yet…

Suddenly, Shadow Walker stopped breathing to listen better. He had thought he heard a commotion outside. This “City” as the Z-Lotz called it, was always noisy, even at night. But the noise was not a harmonious, peaceful song as given by the birds, bugs and bullfrogs of night. For a moment, it was too quiet and then … a disconcerting noise. So, maybe it was nothing. He heard nothing more and gradually relaxed his muscles. His mind turned back to trust.

(Weaving in different directions makes it stronger.)

He did actually trust Tree Vines, and to some extent, Tree Vine’s wife, Gathers Acorns, as well. And, that degree of trust may have slowed his hand just enough as he leapt to his feet and nearly beheaded her. In an instant, Eagle Eyes was awake and on her feet as well, bow in hand and drawn.

Shadow Walker was so taken aback by his nearly killing one of the few people they could trust, he stood speechless. Eagle Eyes hissed, “What are you doing here? You sneak into someone’s chamber in the middle of the night? You could have been killed! How would that be? How would we explain that to Cat Eyes? How … “

Gathers Acorns held up her hand and shook her head slowly. “Stop! Listen! You must hear my tale and then you can decide whether I acted stupidly.”

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes looked at each other a moment and sighed. Shadow Walker calmed his breathing but his mind was still not totally convinced she wasn’t there to assassinate him. He tightened his jaw and nodded for her to speak.

“No time for long explanations, but many, many Z-lotz are coming to kill you tonight just before dawn. You must leave now. Immediately. Tree Vines and I will accompany you if we may. We have provisions. Take whatever is close to hand. Your weapons. We must go quickly!”

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes again looked to each other for guidance. Then, they realized they were both doing it and it struck both of them as funny. In different circumstances, they might have laughed. As it was, however, Eagle Eyes spoke, “We don’t have time to destroy — or take — all the killing sticks! Should we take a few?”

In Shadow Walker’s mind a picture flashed: As a young brave, he had been looking over the edge of a deep well. His dad held him tight across his waist. Far below, he thought he could see a reflection of himself, but it was dim. He wasn’t sure. So, he waved to the reflection to see whether it would wave back. In his excitement, he had forgotten that his waving hand held his favorite rock — a gray crystal of galena — lead ore. The rock slid from his hand. He realized in an instant it was gone forever. Inaccessible.

Shadow Walker looked at Eagle Eyes and said, “We don’t need to destroy them. Let’s make them all inaccessible.”

“How?” Eagle Eyes shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

For all we know, no-one but us actually knows how to move the partition or even that the weapons are there. It would be just like NUT-PI not to tell anyone about it. He would have that special lever made and then likely killed the carpenter who did it. Or, perhaps, the threat of death would be enough. In any case, we can likely destroy the link between the knob and the partition. We can’t count on no-one knowing. Or, breaking through the wall if necessary.”

Gathers Acorns drew near and put one hand on each of their shoulders. “We can also make them inaccessible another way. It won’t take long. I’ll see to it while you pack up. Don’t make a disturbance and keep whatever you take to a minimum.”

Shadow Walker strode to the knob on the back of the bed. He thought it possible that yanking hard might break the connection. He didn’t feel it had actually broken, but a narrow wooden rod now stuck out a few inches. Shadow Walker drew his sword and hacked straight through the rod. He could hear a clattering down below the floor.

Eagle Eyes looked at Shadow Walker. “You realize, we can’t get them either.”

“I know. I know that I made a decision for the whole tribe.”

Gathers Acorns reappeared with Tree Vines. She said breathlessly, “It is done! Let us go!”

For a brief moment, it occurred to Shadow Walker that it could all be a trap.

“Trust”, he whispered to himself, “a difficult puzzle. For another time and place.”

Out into the night, lit only by a few oil lamps, they sped to the edge of the city, whereupon they vanished into an even darker night lit only by stars. Traveling fast at night held its own dangers, but they wanted to put as much distance as possible between their party and, what they imagined would be, much larger search parties.

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Killing Sticks

The Forgotten Field

A tale of greed: The Orange Man

Another tale of greed and divisio n: Myths of the Veritas: Stoned Soup

Rings of Empathy

Cedars Sighing in the Wind

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

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cooperation, ethics, fiction, leadership, learning, legend, myth, parable, Veritas

Cedars Sighing in the Wind

When Cat Eyes had finished reading aloud the story of The Wobby Man, she put aside what the ancients called a “book” and looked expectantly at Tu-Swift. He seemed lost in thought — tortured thoughts filled with thorns — by his visage. Cat Eyes stood and grabbed a nearby water pouch. Reading made her thirsty. She sat back down across from him. She smiled. She was happy to see him again; happy to be reunited with her parents; happy at all the things that the tribe had learned from their discovery; happy that it had taken both of them working together, with their mutual friend Suze, in order to discover how to read. The joy of Cat Eyes felt a sharp edge though because Tu-Swift seemed anything but happy.

“But, I don’t — .” Tu-Swift didn’t finish what he said to Cat Eyes because he didn’t know what he himself meant to say. Instead, he shook his head from side to side. “Why?”

Cat Eyes took his hands into her own and looked at him with love in her eyes, a love that he did not see because his head bowed down and his eyes were only upon the ground. After a few moments she put one of her hands under his chin and lifted it up. They looked into each other’s eyes and she could see that his eyes were tearing up. “It’s okay. It’s to learn from, like all the stories here.”

Tu-Swift shook his head from side to side and bit his lips. “But why?” His voice was plaintive as though he had a thorn stuck painfully under his fingernail and pled for her to remove it.

Cat Eyes sighed and asked gently, “Why what? What are you struggling with? Maybe we can work it out together. Often, life is a fight, but it doesn’t mean you have to be alone in every fight.”

Tu-Swift nodded. After a pause he said, “Why did The Wobbly Man do all that evil? And why did they let him?! Why couldn’t they see what he was up to?”

Cat Eyes nodded. “There are people who do things — evil things — such as steal children. Perhaps there always will be. But I don’t think they think of it as evil. To them, it’s their way of … living … or of having fun. They like destroying life and love in others … I guess because they cannot experience it themselves. I don’t know.”

Tu-Swift sighed. “You are right of course. Within the Veritas where I grew up, there was one such. The Wobbly Man sounds much like him. He manipulated others. He was cruel. Yet, he was such a good liar that he almost fooled our leader, the wise She Who Saves Many Lives. He actually betrayed the tribe to NUT-PI. And here’s the worst part. He got several other braves to go along with his schemes. Without ALT-R, I don’t think POND MUD or KAVANUT would have even been evil.”

“Yes.” After a pause, Cat Eyes added, “It’s much like that Red Spotted Death. It can spread from person to person. And, just as there are evil people even in societies based on truth and trust and love, so too there are people who act in good ways even among the Z-LOTZ and the ROI. It’s much like the story about the two wolves inside someone and which one you feed. The customs of the tribe can make it easy to feed the good wolf — or easy to feed the bad wolf.”

Tu-Swift let out a long sigh. He stood up and held out his hand. Cat Eyes took it and, for a time, they walked in silence. Without intending to do so, they ended up at the entrance to the now dysfunctional tunnel. They stood for a time, holding hands in silence staring at the tunnel. At last, Tu-Swift voiced what both were thinking.

“How could a people know so much as to build a tunnel through a mountain — and yet be so ignorant as to let a liar destroy their village?”

Another long silence ensued until Cat Eyes sighed and spoke again. “We still have many books to read and understand. Many books are filled with words whose meanings we have yet to understand. It appears that it wasn’t just a village here and there. The plague of evil lies destroyed everything. I know you have struggled with whether to use the fire sticks….”

Tu-Swift wondered why Cat Eyes stopped speaking. He looked at her and saw that silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. He squeezed her hand and asked gently, “What is it, Cat Eyes? Why are you so sad?”

“Actually, I was just thinking a little while ago how happy I am about so many things. Yet … we had so much. We knew so much. But we destroyed it. If the books are true, and if our understanding is correct, weapons were developed that … weapons were created that were far worse than fire sticks. Far worse. Yet, there were also treatments for every disease. But the people forgot that they were part of the Tree of Life. People forgot that they were all one. People — not everyone — but enough — just began to grab everything they could for themselves. Lying became commonplace. Once the truth meant nothing, decisions were made by power alone. That is bad enough in the Z-Lotz or, from what you told me, among the Cupiditas. But imagine that they had — not just fire sticks — but horrible weapons that could destroy many villages and all the people in them. Of course, in doing so, these weapons killed birds and butterflies and trees and no-one even seems to have noticed! Maybe … perhaps, we are not really understanding. Maybe they are just stories to prevent people from becoming what the books say that they became. Maybe.”

Tu-Swift bent down and plucked up a small flower that had grown in the cranny of the wall that held the now defunct controls for the tunnel door. He gently braided the stem into the silky hair of Cat Eyes. When he was done, he said, “Well, the tunnel is real. Yet, no-one really knows how it works. How could that be? I mean, unless there was some great loss of learning. I don’t know. Perhaps, we can learn from these stories, whether real or not, how to … how to ensure that we do not fall so far again. From what you said, it sounds…it sounds as though the people became sightless and witless. How can the people not see that they are a part of the Great Tree of Life? How can they not hear the song of the bird or the murmur of the stream? How can they not see the beauty of the trees and flowers all around them? How can they not taste the sweetness of honey?”

Cat Eyes nodded. “That is one of the main question that we — those of us who are studying the books — keep asking ourselves. But when this question is asked, none of us answers. Not yet. Each of us is hoping someone else will explain. But what comes to our ears is only the silence and the cedars sighing in the wind.”

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Roar, Ocean, Roar (A poem about the power of cooperation)

The Only Them that Counts is All of Us

An index to a proposed Pattern Language for Collaboration & Cooperation

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy (Here begins the continuous trilogy of the Mythical Veritas who value truth, love, and cooperation).

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Whom to Trust?

14 Monday Jun 2021

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ethics, leadership, legend, myth, truth, Veritas

“Whom can I trust?” Shadow Walker paced, his energy still high from his second brush with death since becoming the “King” of the Z-Lotz. He didn’t wait for Eagle Eyes to answer and instead ‘ran ahead without his footwear’ as the Veritas liked to say. “I mean who? I am supposed to be their King! Can you imagine someone plotting to overthrow or kill Many Paths?”

Eagle Eyes nodded. “Yes, I can. If we are going to discuss this, you must keep your voice low. We might be overheard and that would not do. I can imagine someone trying to overthrow or kill Many Paths.” Eagle Eyes paused, watching the face of her friend carefully. When she saw that he understood, she continued. “Shadow Walker, you had better be able to imagine that you might be undone. Or, we surely will be. And I have an inkling that your death would be of some interest to Many Paths. Thunder clouds she would see on every horizon. For her, bright green would turn dark blue and blue would look brown. The yellow sun would no longer sparkle like stars after a rain. She would just find annoyance in the rain. Her large bright heart that sets a glow in all the people would instead be a siphon to suck their sunny spirit out and replace it with spent black embers from a fire once so bright.”

Shadow Walker took deep breaths and consciously calmed himself while Eagle Eyes spoke. Just thinking of Many Paths helped. But it also awakened an overwhelming desire to leave; to return home; to see Many Paths; to touch Many Paths; to smell and taste her; to make love with her; to be home where he could trust everyone.

“Yes, Eagle Eyes. She would grieve for a time. But she is our leader. And she takes that responsibility — that is above everything else, her own comfort, her own desires — even her love for me. She would not allow her to stay in such a foul place very long. Because of exactly what you say. She would well understand that by seeing a snake in every river, she would lead others to see the same and eventually the people would die of thirst. She knows how important it is to lead by example.”

Eagle Eyes nodded again. “Yes. And an angry leader may anger everyone. A stupid leader encourages the people to be stupid. A cruel leader inspires more cruelty. Do you agree?”

Shadow Walker admitted to himself that it sounded plausible. But then he tried to imagine a counter-example. He couldn’t. Yet, something tickled in his mind that the truth of Eagle Eyes was a partial truth. “There is much truth in what you say. However, just a few minutes ago, I was very upset — for obvious reasons. But you didn’t let it make you upset. Instead, you calmed me down so that I might think more clearly and not do something impulsively that might make the situation worse.”

Eagle Eyes considered. “Yes. You’re right. Sometimes bad behavior produces a good reaction in good people. But that only works at first. Imagine –these people, the Z-Lotz — the leaders lie to the people. They choose their king by assassination. The king — well, certainly NUT-PI, but conversations with Cat Eyes suggest that others were similar — the king shows no loyalty at all to the people whom he depends on. He tries to control them all with fear.” Eagle Eyes bowed her head and shook it side to side. She sighed a deep sigh. “How can people let themselves live like that? It’s horrible. Anyway, the effect of all this to our current circumstance is that because NUT-PI himself was so untrustworthy and so disloyal, many of the Z-Lotz could well be the same. They may think you’re better than NUT-PI, but the ambitious ones are all able to convince themselves that they’d do a better job than you! After all, you’re not even a Z-Lotz.”

“All right, Eagle Eyes. So…” He broke off because Eagle Eyes put her index finger on his lips. He remembered her admonition to speak softly so as not to be overheard. He took several deep breaths and continued.

“So, let’s leave! Let the Z-Lotz sort out their own issues! For all we know, Many Paths needs our skills right now. Why are we saving these people when we may still have more problems at our own Center Place.?”

“First, I don’t think sneaking out is all that feasible. But even if we did leave, might they not be affronted by a King who simply — abandons them. Hard to know whether they would become so ensnarled by their own fighting that they would ignore us or whether they would somehow find this a good excuse to attack the Veritas. And — the very best we could hope for is that things would “get back to normal.” And these people would come and steal children again. If we stay…and we live…there is some chance we could improve relations between … well, really among all the tribes. And, they know things that could be important for us. Besides, none of the people born into the Z-Lotz chose to be born there. If we can help them….”

“If. Yes. If. They know their ways. We don’t.” Shadow Walker looked at Eagle Eyes, who was clearly deep in thought. “I don’t even know how many of them know about that cache of weapons and gold that we found. I don’t know whom I can ask about those weird liquids in the see-through rocks that are not rocks.”

Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker reflected on their situation in comfortable silence for a time. The Veritas were unafraid to give their ideas space enough to breathe; time enough to mature.

After a time, Shadow Walker said, “We desperately need to understand more of their language. Perhaps we could find some tutors to trust. More than one. It may be very hard to decide whom to trust, but it may be possible to find someone to trust. If we could ask questions of multiple tutors, and we get the same answers, we might presume that they are telling the truth, or at least the truth as they see it. Yet, if they say almost the exact same words, then they are telling a rehearsed story to gain our trust.”

Eagle Eyes added, “In addition to learning more about the Z-Lotz and their language, for others, we can simply be honest. Tell them that, because of the assassination attempts, you don’t know whom to trust so we will need to test their loyalty. Give them the Veritas Test of Truthfulness. If they pass, you will trust them and that will be a very good thing for them as well as for you. On the other hand, if they lie to you, they will not pass the test and that will be a very very bad thing for them.”

“What is the Veritas Test of Truthfulness? Why have I never heard of it, Eagle Eyes?”

Eagle Eyes smiled. “We will need to create it.” After all, She Who Saved Many Lives created seven tests of empathy. We ought to be able to create one test of truthfulness.”

“We observe someone doing something very difficult without their knowing that we are watching. We note how they do. Then we ask them how they did. We will see how accurate they are in their description. If they are honest about their mistakes, they are likely to be honest about other things. On the other hand, it seems a bit ironic — and more than a little sad — to build a test of honesty that relies on deception.” Shadow Walker looked down to the side and bit his lower lip.

“Then let’s not,” said Eagle Eyes after a time. She saw the questioning look in the eyes of Shadow Walker. “I mean, let’s not be deceptive. I don’t think we need to. We will ask them to do something and observe them. I believe, the dishonest will still give themselves away. They are so used to lying that they won’t be able to give a fair description of what they did and did not do.”

Shadow Walker considered. ALT-R had been able to fool nearly everyone about his true nature. For most people though — Eagle Eyes was likely right. What if the Z-Lotz had their own ALT-R? Would they be able to smoke them out? After all, Cat Eyes had said that the Z-Lotz leaders convinced the people who actually worked that they believed in a whole jungle web of lies when actually, they didn’t. She had seen their hypocrisy. Perhaps because as a slave, they saw her as not fully human or not very clever. Shadow Walker realized that he would benefit from the thoughts of Eagle Eyes so he said aloud, “We need to start with the people I do trust. I can explain to Tree Vines that the sooner he can help me vet the Z-Lotz, the sooner he can leave to see his daughter — and — that his daughter will grow up in a safer world. If we do this right, we might be able to prevent kidnappings such as what happened to his own daughter so many years ago.”

Eagle Eyes laughed.

Shadow Walker frowned. “Is that funny?”

Eagle Eyes said, “No, it’s just that I had an image. I saw honesty spreading through the Z-Lotz like a plague.”

Shadow Walker chuckled too. “That would be something.” Then another frown passed over his brow. “But that seems like we’re making them into Veritas. Is that right? What if they prefer being dishonest and choosing Kings by assassination rather than competence?”

Eagle Eyes said, “Yes, in the same way that watering the squash turns it into something edible instead of a barren stalk. We’re not talking about their preferences for how well done they like their meat. We’re talking about truth — which is every bit as vital as water is for life itself. Lies, dishonesty, cruelty, hate — these are not the paths of Life. These are paths of Death. As shown by our story of the Orange Man.”

——————————————-

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy (Beginning of Book I)

The Myths of the Veritas: Feast and Fire (Beginning of Book II)

The Myths of the Veritas: A Map of Sorts (Beginning of Book III)

Index to Patterns for Collaboration and Teamwork

An Essay on the Nature of Nature

Finding the Cache

12 Saturday Jun 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

fiction, legend, myths, Veritas

Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes spoke softly to each other in their native tongue — Veritas — as they explored their “House of the King.” They wanted to plan without being overheard.

Shadow Walker suggested, “At no time should both of us be asleep. I think I can trust our three ministers, but I am not sure. Cat Eyes told us that most of the Z-Lotz do not even believe the myths and legends that they insist everyone else believe! How can one see into such a heart? They shade their soul windows. Can you know the heart of such a one? Can your eagle eyes penetrate the blank stare?”

Eagle Eyes shook her head. “I cannot.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “You are strong and wise and handsome and these things help. But you are still seen as something foreign. I cannot imagine that the people held much love for NUT-PI. He was a cruel and ineffective leader who repeatedly betrayed those loyal to him. There may be others from among the Z-Lotz…no, there must be others from among the Z-Lotz who are popular and who are ambitious enough to be King. Even among the three ministers.”

Shadow Walker nodded. As they spoke, they strode through the King’s House. Shadow Walker’s hand’s idly trailed along the walls as they spoke. The surface felt shiny like rock, but felt warm, something like a rock in the sun, but they were inside. Odd. The surface seemed rock-like but not really rock. It was also much too regular. He wondered whether some of the tiny but deadly red spiders were on the walls.

Eagle Eyes explored her surroundings a different way — by darting her eyes everywhere. Shadow Walker stopped and took the hands of Eagle Eyes. Unlike the Z-Lotz, his eyes were open as he said, “Thank you for saving my life! We will get through this, but I must confess…I don’t know how. I need you and your quick thinking if we are too survive.”

Eagle Eyes tried not to blush, but she couldn’t help herself. She bit her lip and tried to plan. That helped some. Wild images swarmed before her like hiveless bees not knowing where to alight. “Sometimes, I wish we could escape in the night. I’m not sure we could even do that, but it would be wrong. Even if these are Z-Lotz and ROI, they need a leader who isn’t corrupt.”

Shadow Walker gave no outward sign as to whether he had seen her blush. He nodded. “To leave now would be — cowardly. I do trust the parents of Cat Eyes. And, that’s good because we need them to translate. But — now that they know their daughter is alive, I presume that they will wish to journey to see her very soon. Tree Vines has already told me so. When that happens….?”

Eagle Eyes nodded. “Regardless of what the future brings, it seems that you and I would do well to learn more of the language — and of the ways — of the Z-Lotz and ROI.”

Shadow Walker grimaced. “You are right. Though I wish they would learn more to be like the Veritas, to tell the truth. Just think. The only way for me not to be leader is for someone to kill me! That method ensures that only the most powerful — or most treacherous — will become King. And it will encourage intrigue among the people — not honesty and openness. Both of which we desperately need to kill off this plague.”

Eagle Eyes sighed. “If we even can kill it off. We have to try though. That has to be our top priority. Meanwhile, we need to learn as much as we can including who, if anyone, we can trust. I know you must miss Many Paths. I miss her as well. Still, our lives would be simpler if we were together. We could stay here and rule and teach our children to rule and how to stay alive. When the time comes, our offspring could wrest control from you by “force” — though — “farce” might be closer to the truth. We could feign your death and then, once the new ruler was firmly in place, you and I could leave.”

Shadow Walker frowned and then laughed. “That is way too long to wait! But I — I do like your idea about faking my death. That might be a way to provide them another ruler. Anyway, first we must try to help them avoid being killed off. They’ll be plenty of time to plot out our leaving after that. But you said you missed Many Paths.”

Eagle Eyes nodded. “I do. Don’t you?”

Shadow Walker nodded. “Of course, but … I thought you would say you miss Trunk of Tree.”

Eagle Eyes frowned. “Have you noticed how all of the rock in this place is the same exact color?”

“I don’t think it’s really rock. At least, it’s not like any rock I’ve seen before, but — yes. It’s all the same. Too much the same. Not like real rock.” Shadow Walker wondered whether Eagle Eyes wanted to avoid answering his implied question.

Eagle Eyes pointed, “Except over there. Look.” She strode over to a spot behind the throne.

Shadow Walker followed her over. It was subtle, but there was a definite set of lines making a rectangle. Shadow Walker traced the line. It felt different too. He pushed on various spots and felt a slight give. They tried pushing at the same time in a variety of places but nothing happened.

Shadow Walker again found himself wishing that Many Paths were here — or, even better, that he was with her back in the Center Place of the Veritas. Yet again, he took out the Sixth Ring of Empathy. As he felt it and stared at the crystal, as always, he felt a little closer to her.

In his mind’s eye flashed a clear image. Shadow Walker saw himself as a very young boy. He held a leaf in his hand — a dry leaf. He turned and looked up to the side where he saw a beautiful woman smiling at him. It wasn’t Many Paths though. It was She Who Saves Many Lives. Her hair was only flecked with a little gray. Shadow Walker’s tiny hand moved from the dry leaf to a dry seed pod. He heard his little boy’s voice ask the plant, “Thirsty?” He looked up to the kind face of the Shaman and saw her nod. He saw himself bend down and pick up his cup of water from the ground. He lifted it to the leaf and frowned, unsure how to give the plant a drink. She Who Saves Many Lives gently took the cup from his hands and bent down beside him. “Here, Shadow Walker. Here is where the plant drinks.” She slowly poured the water into the ground all around the base of the plant. The soil darkened and turned muddy. He heard his young self ask the Shaman, “Why did you waste the water and not give the plant a drink?”

She Who Saves Many Lives smiled and said, “I did. Be patient and you’ll see.”

Shadow Walker shook his head to clear his mind of the clear memory. He turned away from the wall and looked instead at the back of his Throne. He shook his head. He didn’t like sitting up there. It seemed absurdly huge. It was elaborately carved, not only on the front, but here on the back as well. The front and sides at least were beautifully turned out. The back however…? He glanced at Eagle Eyes who had also turned around and she was pointing to a part of the carving that looked like a small house with rectangular windows and a rectangular door. He touched the door and heard a loud creaking behind him. The noise startled them both. Shadow Walker’s hand flew instinctively to his sword. But no-one else was near. The noise, it became obvious, arose from the grinding of stone rubbing against stone as a hole appeared in the wall behind them. After the noise stopped, the pair peered into the darkness beyond the wall. They each cupped their hands around their eyes and waited for their eyes to adjust.

————————————

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

The Myths of the Veritas – Beginning of Book Two

The Myths of the Veritas – Beginning of Book Three

The Invisibility Cloak of Habit

Yum! How About Some Ground Glass?

05 Monday Apr 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

collaboration, greed, lies, politics, truth, USA, veracity, Veritas

Lies in civilization are much like ground glass in an otherwise nutritious, delicious buffet. They are dangerous. They are potentially deadly if undetected. Quantity matters. One piece of undetected ground glass is serious. One hundred pieces means that some people will die. Twenty thousand means everyone who partakes of the buffet will likely die.

If one side lies constantly and one of the things they lie about is saying the other side lies, then, of course, your “loyalty” to your own side may get you to thinking: “Both sides lie equally.” Or, even more sadly, “The other side lies!”

Imagine Rembrandt’s Mona Lisa: a beautiful painting. Now, imagine painting a red stripe one inch wide diagonally through the painting. It’s only a small part of the painting, after all. Maybe 10%. But is the value decreased by only 10%? Of course not.

Ever use a dictionary? How much would you pay for a really good dictionary? How about a dictionary with 1% errors? How about one with 10% errors? How about one with 50% errors? How about one with 100% errors?

Imagine you finally manage to save up enough money to buy your dream house. Location: near highways, shopping, & parks. Style: perfect. Condition: perfect. Except for one small thing.

It reeks.

Living in a society that is perfused with lies is like living in a house situated right next to a sewage plant.

The *only* advantage humans have in their struggle to survive is their ability to cooperate and communicate. A lie diminishes that ability to coordinate. The impact is not just that one lie. It’s the spread of skepticism. It’s the felt need to double and triple check everything.

In a complex society, even a tiny bit of deception can multiply far beyond the immediate effects. That is particularly true if a deception passes through a number of weak points in what could be and should be the world-wide web of wisdom.

For example, an employee at a drug company might be pressured to downplay side effects in a report. He does so. But in a corporate culture of honestly, someone will catch the lie and patiently explain that this is not the way things are done around here. The error will be corrected.

And no-one will die from that lie.

On the other hand, the same employee doing the same act in a company with a sociopathic corporate culture might well have that lie not only propagated but further elaborated. As a result, the drug is over-prescribed and over-used. Millions of dollars, and then, that money is like seed money to buy layers and layers of political protection and press protection. At last billions of dollars flow from the pockets of customers into the pockets of the drug company. And, when I say “the drug company” of course, ultimately it ends up in someone’s pocket. Whose? A little of it goes to workers within the company. A huge amount goes to the top executives. But a huge amount also goes to the major stockholders — people who did nothing to discover or promote the drug, but in some sense provided money to support the company.

Guess what? It might even turn out that the drug’s drawbacks outweigh the benefits. In the short run, that might not diminish profits at all.

Again though, we need to realize that the damage to society is not limited to the effects of this particular drug (though those can in and of themselves be devastating effects). It is experiences like this, for instance, that play into vaccine reluctance. Because some drug companies have done some unethical things, people naturally have some degree of mistrust for *all* drug companies for *all* drugs. Nor is the mistrust that such a scheme produces limited to the drug industry. If people believe corruption is widespread, they may themselves become more tempted to engage in it. Even if they don’t themselves engage in lies, deception, bribery, etc., they will certainly be on the lookout for such schemes. It will be harder to take people at their word.

Putting crushed glass in a buffet injures people and ruins the buffet. And, if it happens often enough, it can turn you off from going to any buffets or any restaurants.

Lying can seem attractive in the short term. But in the long run, it will be found out. It will ruin your individual reputation, but it will also tarnish the reputation of your organization and even, to some extent, your entire industry. Beyond that, lies work to spoil society as a whole.

Imagine that a well-functioning society is something like a well-oiled machine. One part connects to another and things function smoothly. Lies are like pouring sand in the gears. Things will move more slowly. Parts will also wear out more quickly. Add enough sand and the motor will burn out or the machinery may catch fire. Would you put sand in your gas tank? Would you add sand to the oil in your auto? Of course not! Why would you support lies in your company or in your society?

Photo by Stephan Streuders on Pexels.com

Apart from the societal disintegration that lies promote, if you actively pursue a policy of lies to benefit yourself, you are basically taking a kind of informational poison into your own psyche and eventually it will poison your mind. You’ll become more and more addicted to a strategy of relying on lies rather than relying on doing a good job or learning from your mistakes. When someone asks a perpetual liar a question, they will not be able to simply answer. They will have to calculate who knows what and how easily the lie will be found out and try to recall what lies that they have already told to whom.

Just as more and more of an addictive painkiller must be used to achieve the same level of pain relief, so too, an addicted liar will find that they have to tell more and more lies. The lies may at first be “reasonable” lies. That is, at first, a liar may tell lies that are plausible. Over time, they will have to tell more and more absurd lies. If the liar is a popular figure, his or her fans may echo the lies despite not having any relevant direct knowledge. As the lies become more absurd, the fans echo not only plausible, lies but also echo absurd lies. To those who are not addicted to the lies, fan behavior becomes more and more ridiculous and pathetic.

—————————————

Happy Talk Lies

The Update Problem

You Gave me no Fangs

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

Essays on America: Addictions

Bounce

Claude the Radio Operator

Plans for us; some GRUesome.

A Lot is not a Little

The Great Remembering

24 Sunday Jan 2021

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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Tags

collaboration, cooperation, fiction, leadership, legend, myth, story, Veritas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The times came of great killing.

“The times came of great forgetting.”

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

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

“The great remembering of who we are;

“The great remembering of what we are not;

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

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

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

“The great remembering of what we could become instead;

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

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

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

Drums began to play and the people began to sing.

Cat Eyes and Tu-Swift began to dance.

All the people began to join in the dance.

———————————————————-

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

The Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Index to a Pattern Language for Collaboration and Cooperation

Roar, Ocean, Roar

The Only Them that Matters is All of Us

The Creation Myth of the Veritas

Led by the Deer

05 Saturday Dec 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

anger, deer, hunting, legend, myth, stalking, Veritas

Trunk of Tree wrapped his wound with boiled yellow dock and plantain leaves and then tied strips of rawhide to hold the poultice in place. He clenched his teeth. Then, he clenched them tighter still. He realized that he was hungry and exhausted. He had hiked aimlessly and alone for three days. Most of that time, he had been angry — so angry that he had stupidly stepped heavily upon the dry branch of a fallen tree. The branch had snapped and as his weight drew his leg downward now that nothing any longer held it; at the same time, the sharp end of the broken branch snapped upward, making a long gash in the side of his lower leg.

He mentally listed his grievances. He was angry at the red death. He was angry at Many Paths for sending her own betrothed, Shadow Walker, with the only woman Trunk of Tree had ever loved, Eagle Eyes, on a mission together and now they were far away, living as king and queen and surely, they were mating now. Trunk of Tree clenched his fists and banged them down hard on the trunk of the fallen tree that he sat on. Even in his nearly blind anger, some small part of his brain knew enough to hit the bark with the side of his hand rather than his knuckles. That survival part of his brain knew that injuring his hands would not help him in his current situation, nor allow him somehow to win back Eagle Eyes, should he so deign.

Trunk of Tree swallowed a wordless growl as he thought about how angry he was with She Who Saves Many Lives. She had chosen Many Paths as her successor and then made up various schemes and tests to make it come true. He was sure of it. Many Paths was a woman and it annoyed Trunk of Tree that he had not been chosen as leader. He was much stronger than Many Paths. And, he knew what to do in any situation immediately while Many Paths apparently, he thought, felt obligated to live up to her name and think of a thousand ways to kill a deer while he just picked up the nearest stone and whacked it on the head. That wouldn’t work of course, but that wasn’t the point.

Trunk of Tree could hear his stomach growl. He hadn’t eaten all day and the scant supplies he had grabbed as he stormed off had run out early yesterday. He looked down and saw deer tracks plain as day run through this small clearing where he had made his fire. Some of these tracks are fresh. Good, he thought. He stood up.

“My leg is okay to walk on,” he mumbled to himself. “It’s not bleeding through my crude bandaging. Good,” he muttered. “I don’t want the scent to scare off the deer. Nor my anger. I must slow my breathing and become one with the track and with the deer and with the traces of the deer and with wants and needs of the deer.”

Trunk of Tree began to imagine once again that Shadow Walker and Eagle Eyes were together. “I need to discipline myself. I need to concentrate. I can kill them later if need be. But first, I need to find food. I need to focus on the deer. Find the deer. Find the deer. Kill the deer. Eat the deer.”

He found that his wound did not slow him down much. The deer tracks were becoming fresher. At last he caught a glimpse of the buck he had been tracking. The hunter bent down and tightened the straps holding his bandage in place. When he stood back up, the buck was nowhere to be seen. He was still walking upwind and long training allowed him to stalk stealthily. He began to croon one of the soft hunting chants that he had learned as a boy. Although the slightest snap of a twig or a sudden movement would sent the buck bounding off through the brush, these songs seemed to pique the curiosity of the deer allowing a much closer approach.

“I am the deer.
My mind is clear.
I walk with no sound,

Yet I sing you my song.
We all go to ground.
It cannot be wrong.

Come become a part of me.

Someday I’ll die too.

Perhaps becoming part of you.

This is how it’s meant to be.

I am the deer.

My mind is clear.”

Trunk of Tree halted. The track led into a dense thicket of blackberry bushes. Trunk of Tree smiled at the irony. The only reason he would be able to keep tracking the deer was because of his deer skin clothing. A smile crept onto the corner of his lips. This irony was all the funnier because he himself had killed the deer whose skin he was using. His memory flashed back to that day. Eagle Eyes, naturally, had first spotted the track. Trunk of Tree had begun to run after it since the tracks seemed so fresh. Shadow Walker had grabbed him, faced him and sniffed the air. Shadow Walker had been right. They would have simply spooked the deer.

Anyway, Trunk of Tree, thought to himself, enough reminiscing. “I must return to the moment.” Trunk of Tree slid sideways through the thicket fairly easily. When he came out the other side though, the deer track went right into a cliff. He stared at the track. It made no sense. He began to recite his song again and followed the track right up to … a solid stone wall. He muttered to himself, “This makes no sense. Is this another of those stupid magic doors? I don’t see ….”

Then, Trunk of Tree noticed that what seemed to have been a solid wall really contained a narrow passageway barely wide enough for a deer. The rock walls of the passage tilted outwards slightly. As he walked through, he noticed markings along the moss and rock tripe growing on those wall as though deer antlers had scraped through. When he made it through this passage, he saw the deer tracks veer off to his left down toward a spring. The deer was not in sight. He contemplated tracking the deer across the cold running stream. If he did, his bandage would certainly be washed away along with the medicinal herbs he had so carefully searched out, boiled, and applied.

He wished Eagle Eyes were here. Her eyes were remarkably good. Trunk of Tree tried to push the image away, but it came back. And as he imaged Eagle Eyes beside him, he realized for the first time in his life that Eagle Eyes not only had remarkable vision. She looked at things differently. Trunk of Trees eyes darted always, as did everyone’s. But sometimes, Eagle Eyes looked — for a long time — and she looked methodically. She looked patiently. Trunk of Tree bit his lower lip. It wasn’t just her eyes — it was her patience — and her method that made her so valuable. And, then, Trunk of Tree had another insight. While he may never have such clear vision as Eagle Eyes, he could use her patience and her method.

Trunk of tree looked off to the right. His stomach rumbled again, as though he needed to be reminded of his hunger. He decided to ignore that for a moment and he looked up the slope to his right, trying to imagine the way Eagle Eyes would look. He looked back and forth along a large rock outcropping and realized that something was amiss. At first, he couldn’t tell what. Then, in his mind, he heard the voice of Eagle Eyes say “road” in her wonderful voice. “Road” he muttered to himself. “What road?” He walked up the slope the length of a fallen pine and sure enough, there was a man-made road up there. He looked back toward the cleft in the rock that he had just slid through. There was no sign of the cleft. He walked back down. He couldn’t really see that the cleft was there until he was almost upon it. He walked back up to the road and scanned the far side of the stream, looking for a sign of the deer in the same patient, methodical way that Eagle Eyes would have used. He decided to walk along the road for a time. He now saw that it curved gently around the base of what appeared to be a mountain. As he walked he kept stopping and looking back toward the creek to see whether the deer had reappeared.

Trunk of Tree shook his head muttering to himself yet again. “I’m so damned hungry, I’m imagining the smell of deer meat cooking.” Then, he stopped and sniffed the air. “No,” he thought, “that’s no illusion. That is the smell of venison cooking.”

As he followed the road, the scent strengthened. The road took a sharp turn to the right. Trunk of Tree found himself hungrier than ever now, but he slowed his pace. He may be coming upon enemies. He heard voices! Enemies! Wait, he thought. They are speaking Veritas. He frowned and thought, “That boy’s voice sounds exactly like…like that of Tu-Swift! Have I been going in circles?”

Trunk of Tree stepped off the path and pressed himself against the rock, peering from behind a tree that grew next to the rocks. Coming down the path he saw Tu-Swift…holding hands with Cat Eyes!

Seeing no-one else, Trunk of Tree stepped back to the road and looked again, forcing himself to look carefully, as Eagle Eyes might do.

He swallowed hard and spoke out loud. “Tu-Swift? Is that you? And Cat Eyes? What are you doing here?”

Tu-Swift and Cat Eyes were both startled at the sudden appearance of the large, well-muscled body of Trunk of Tree and both reflexively hit the ground on either side of the path.

Tu-Swift realized a split second later that it really was Trunk of Tree. He climbed back onto the path and yelled happily, “Trunk of Tree! Hey! Well met!” He loped toward him and embraced him. Cat Eyes came up as well and smiled at Trunk of Tree and took one of his hands.

Tu-Swift shook his head. “How on earth did you get here? You’re nowhere near the ancient tunnel!”

Trunk of Tree frowned. “How did I get here? How did … where am I exactly?”

Cat Eyes answered, “You are in the village of the Veritas. The village you call ‘The Veritas on the far side of the mountain. But how did you get here? And, what happened to your leg?”

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The First Ring of Empathy

Index for a Pattern Language for Collaboration

Index for Tools of Thought

Tu-Swift’s Reunion

24 Saturday Oct 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

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fiction, free, leadership, legend, myths, Veritas

Tu-Swift’s eyes darted immediately to what he most wanted to see. There she was, her back turned away, with only a tress of hair across the back of her ear, but he recognizer her. Cat Eyes poured over more of the writings she had discovered. “Books” — that was they word they had learned for such large sheaves of knowledge marked down. Six of her “students” nearly encircled her. As he neared, he noticed his heart beating fast and hard, though he only caught momentary glimpses of her. At a distance of a medium-sized fallen tree, he stopped and gulped hard. Cat Eyes was still turned away from him when suddenly, she turned her head and looked him straight in the eye. What happened next seemed inexplicable to Tu-Swift. She turned, saw him, smiled and then — she flew to him — or perhaps floated to him — or ran to him. After a very long time and a very short time, she wrapped her arms around him tightly and he responded in kind. He loved the smell of her, though now, he noticed a slight tinge of spicy mint. If anything, that made her smell even better!

After far too short a time, they drew apart slightly, still holding on and they began exchanging news. After a few moments of over-talking each other, they both laughed and promised that they would take turns, just as any civilized Veritas knows how to do. They played a game they called “make five” and thus, it was determined that Tu-Swift would begin. He described how the red death had spread through the tribe and how the solution had appeared in a dream of She Who Saves Many Lives. Eagle Eyes and Shadow Walker had gone to reconnoiter the giant stone encampment of the Z-Lotz and they had been captured. At this point in the story, he backed off enough to look into her face. He saw that her eyes already brimmed with a score of urgent questions. He smiled at her; spoke gently; put a hand on each side of her face as he said, “Cat Eyes. There is no hurry. I am here for as long as it pleases you. I will answer any question from you. Ever.” Then, he kissed her on the lips.

Instead of resuming his narrative uninterrupted (as was common practice among the Veritas), he smiled and asked, “What is your most pressing question?”

Cat Eyes said, “I have so many, but are they okay? I mean, if they were captured, in a large city, they must have died! Is that what happened?”

Tu-Swift shook his head and answered, “No, they are both okay. More than okay. Shadow Walker killed NUT-PI and became king of the Z-LOTZ!”

Cat Eyes’s eyes widened. “But how is that possible?!”

Tu-Swift shrugged. “That’s the thing. We do not yet know. We’ve only sent a few messages back and forth on eagles. They say that Shadow Walker is King & both are fine, but they haven’t gotten to the how part yet.”

Cat Eyes shook her head. “What? What!? What could be more important to tell than to tell how they escaped?”

Tu-Swift smiled. “I’ll tell you, given half a chance. Cat Eyes, your parents are alive! They will likely arrive here themselves in a half moon’s time. They will be among a larger party of visitors. Many Paths has an idea that she wants to discuss among all the Veritas.”

“My parents are alive!? What? How? How? What? Tell me!”

“I’m really sorry, Cat Eyes. Believe me, I’m curious too. We have been sitting around a campfire speculating about so many things. But soon, we will know. A small party is coming from the Z-Lotz city and that includes your parents. We will absorb their story and send them on, if they are able, along with a few others. You and I will find out at the same time, if I may stay here, of course.” Tu-Swift lifted his eyebrows.

“You’d better! Or, I swear, I’ll break both your knees!”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try that.”

Tu-Swift meant it as a joke, but Cat Eyes felt she had been insensitive. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it, of course. I forgot about your knee. But you were strong enough to make the journey here so, I guess it’s better?”

“Yes, thanks. I’m not back to full speed quite yet, but I’m getting there. I meant it as a joke, though. I’m not bothered. Even if I am never the fastest one in the tribe, what of that? I’m alive; I’m well. So many died. Do many of us.” He paused and looked at Cat Eyes.

She bit her lip and asked the question that Tu-Swift willed her to ask, “Tu-Swift, how is Suze? Why isn’t she here with you?”

Tears welled up in the eyes of Tu-Swift, soon echoed by those Cat Eyes.

Cat Eyes gently said, “I’m so sorry, Tu-Swift. I loved her too. Without her help, and yours, of course, we would still not know how to decode these messages. But, that aside, she was so … alive. So much, herself.”

“I know. I know.”

“Who else? Who else is gone, Tu-Swift?”

So Tu-Swift told of Stone Chipper and his son Horse Viewer and of so many others. And, he could see each time that he told of a person, Cat Eyes felt sorrow. In her relatively short time at the Center Place of the Veritas, she had come to know every one of the people there as an individual. She understood as well that each death was also a blow to the whole village and a special blow to those closest to the person who had just died.

Tu-Swift himself felt a great heaviness. The recitation of every single name on the list felt like another tree trunk had fallen on his drooping shoulders. At the end, at last, he spoke of Many Paths and She Who Saves Many Lives.

“Many Paths grew very sick, Cat Eyes. She Who Saves Many Lives and I took care of her. Many Paths is fine now, but She Who Saves Many Lives herself became quite ill. She was still alive when I left to see you, but — but quite ill — and talking a lot about the Tree of Life and how we were all just parts of it. It makes me think that she thinks she’s dying. But I don’t really know. But the last piece of my news is about the nature of Many Path’s dream.

“The dream of She Who Saves Many Lives,” he continued, “allowed us to save many lives in the Center Place of the Veritas. Now, none are any longer sick. It may be that the dream of Many Paths that will end up saving even more lives, not just now, but for the future as well. She was much taken by the notion that all these — books — that you study — that they came from another time when there was more — so much more — but also less — so much less. And, she is — she wants to prevent that from happening again. She wants to bring all the tribes together. But she wants to know first, whether the Veritas here could agree to such a plan. And she would like to know what more you have learned from all these books. And, I do want to hear your news, but … I want you to know that I am so happy to see you. I missed you, Cat Eyes.”

They embraced again, each feeling the pain and comfort of the other.

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The Creation Myth of the Veritas