An Evolutionary misstep
Shaman sat back from the fire as he listened to the talk of his apprentice with the other young men and women. When Shaman overheard Embeas suggest to the young men that they raid the neighbors to take women and goods, the old man was alarmed. Shaman gave no indication of his concern. He did nothing to alert the boys to his presence. But he began to listen intently as Embeas spoke.
"They’ve been recently hunting in our territory and Mourak carried off Laola. We mustn’t allow their aggression to go unpunished. I’ve dreamed this. We must sneak into their camp and take all the food, weapons and women we can carry. We will surprise them but we must be prepared to fight. My vision is true." Embeas had any woman he wanted and more than enough weapons and food. But he thought that taking from others would secure his future and it was an indirect way to have them do his work for him. Shaman hadn’t convinced his apprentice of the folly of his hubris and lazy greed, though Embeas had quit talking about his own clan’s people working for him. Now he was trying to create an enemy who might be raided, with the promise of booty and spoils for himself and the friends who abetted him.
Embeas’ peers were a lot smarter than he was willing to allow. Hazara laughed in his face. "Mourak and Laola were betrothed at the fall hunt. While hunting, we pursue animals into Horse Clan’s land without disrespect or offense given or taken. I will not take offense at what has always been the custom of both our clans. What are you trying to pull Embeas? We have food. We have weapons. If we want a woman from Horse Clan we can ask for her. If she wants us, we’ll get her. I think your dream was inspired by too much kumiss!"
But that wasn’t the end of it. While more than half of the dozen or so young people joined in the derision and got a good laugh at Embeas’ expense, a few muttered and nodded to one another in agreement with Embeas. Winter was ending and they craved adventure. There had been little to be done to consume their energy for the past several months. Digging the pitfall and driving the tajacu pack had provided enough fresh meat to last until spring but had dispelled little of the restlessness of the youth of the community. Even the spearing of the old boar. who had turned and charged as the swine fell into the hole, had provided only momentary excitement and a couple of retells around the celebration campfire.
Embeas needed to respond in order keep his base. "Hazara, you’re naive if you think talk with the Horse Clan will restrain their evil. They will try to terrorize us because they’re jealous of what we have. They wish to have our women and our goods. I do not fear them. I’ll take the war to them." He looked about. Some of those who first laughed, now stepped over to his side. He wondered at how easily people were swayed. A small, wicked smile played unconsciously at the corners of his mouth. His eyes also showed the wonder as he realized he was going over on some of the fools. He asked Hazara and all present, "Are you with us or against us?"
Hazara was not so easily fooled. It would be five hundred generations before many human minds would be inexperienced, weak and eternally immature enough for such stupidity to take hold. It would be almost two hundred more before the theme dominated the Planet. It would take the service economy to ultimately free US from work and the need to think for ourselves. These people didn’t even have a personal God to worship, much less the all powerful principles and values inspired by capital gains. No, Hazara was not so easily fooled as his descendants eventually would be. But he had already said all the words he had to counter the stupidity and Embeas was undaunted. He raised his fist. "Embeas, you’re a fool! I have cousins among the Horse Clan and I’ll hear no more of your evil talk. If you demand a fight it can start here!"
Much to Embeas’ relief, for Hazara was the tallest and broadest of the Wolf Clan, Shaman stepped into the center and put an end to the discussion for a time. Shaman saw an opportunity to at once teach a lesson for all and specifically to Embeas. "I will prepare for a dreaming so we may all see the path of wisdom. Embeas, you’ll not accompany me to the place where dreams are found. You will dream with all who take part in this conflict when I return to lead the spirit journey." And again to all, "I will go in the morning and return in three days. Embeas and Hazara will work together to prepare a ceremonial fire pit and the mushroom sacrament while I’m gone."
Embeas envied the old man’s presence and ability to command. When the shaman spoke, the people listened. Embeas wanted that respect but thought a forceful and confident demeanor was all he needed to get it. He thought it a bit of theater, a roll to be perfected. He didn’t have clue what it meant to really develop one’s mind or character or to earn respect for what one was, instead of what one wanted or pretended to be. He didn’t understand the difference between the use of power for the good of the community and the satisfaction of individual greed and lust. And he didn’t want to hear it. He was conservative of his puerile selfishness.
Shaman climbed to the top of the mountain. Everyone knew he must seek a vision. His task was to plan the dreaming that would share the vison with all. There was conflict over what direction the people should take. Shaman would consult the spirits of the Earth and the clan. He would share knowledge, gleaned from his sources and the minds of the clanspeople and guided by protectiveness for the life of the community, through a group dreaming. This was how consensus was reached by most clans. Everyone was given access to the same set of facts and might come to their own conclusions about possible outcomes. Together they would envision a plan and together they would work it. A good shaman gently guided the thought dream of the clan. The group would function as a unit to provide the best chance of survival for all. This had been their way for ten thousand generations though none knew the count.
Few but the shamans and not all of them knew that the visions came from their own memories and immediate situation. Much of the clan’s knowledge was entrusted to the holy ones, who guarded and nurtured it as the village does its children. Both kinds of continuation are needed to assure there will be a future for people. The thought that spirits gave protection and guidance comforted many. Therefore shamans carefully selected their successors, avoiding the selfish or ambitious. Many of those selected learned the necessary knowledge and creative envisioning best when they believed in spirits. The metaphor was heuristic. The important thing was to lead in a way that benefitted the clan. Selfish leaders endangered the survival of all. Shamans received some support from common resources but they took part in common labors, though their work was subsidized by the work of others in order to provide time for their spiritual endeavors on behalf of the community. They were the guardians of the communities way of life. They healed the group psychology and guarded against behavioral perils and economic malfeasance within the community. Their primary concern was the clans ability to survive and thrive on Earth. That required the participation and cooperation of all. Simple as it was, their economy sustained their lives, as ours does today. Then, its purpose was clear to all.
The information base of the human race was preserved, nurtured and grown in the minds of shamans. This knowledge was passed on orally from generation to generation for maybe a hundred thousand reproductive cycles. At 30 years per that’s 3 million years. I heard a politician say that marriage between a man and woman had been the human tradition for a thousand generations... throughout 5000 years of civilization. I wonder if he voted to fund math in education or uses an MBA style "positive" calculus. But I’m waxing anachronistic. I must remember instead to be optimistic. Back to Shaman. There is in the accumulated memories of the discipline, acknowledgment of a time when charismatic practitioners had to rely on there own power to guide the population. This is referred to as the time before the spirits were known. Overlooking the broad valley where the people dwelt, Shaman felt some nostalgia for that simpler time, though he was relieved somewhat of the burden of power, just as he was empowered by the spiritual traditions. His guardianship was facilitated but there was more to guard.
He sought vision to deal with Embeas. That boy’s hubris and laziness were becoming disruptive to the community. His schemes were viewed by some of the elders as threatening to the well being of all. Shaman knew already that Embeas would never take his [the shaman’s] place if he couldn’t be redirected along more positive lines. Shaman didn’t want to fail. He had time and energy invested. He didn’t need the added burden of finding another acolyte. Though that might prove an unavoidable responsibility, Shaman still had hope that the bright and energetic young man could be saved. But the boy had already gained some following. The desire to have the community serve Embeas more than Embeas served the community was a social aberration. If it wasn’t dealt with soon, it would gain the support of wannabee frauds. If privilege was granted to an indolent and egotistical elite, it could spread like a virus and destroy the vitality of the community. An individual who takes more than they produce is a burden on all.
Shaman began the ritual cleansing at sunset. He dipped the fingers of both hands into the bowl of water between his feet. As looked up to the sky from a squat he sprinkled his forehead and spoke softly. "I cleanse my thought of desire, conflict and emotion. Earth and Sun, all the Universe, thank you for sharing the joy of existence through the gift of life." He opened his senses to the surroundings. A cool breeze caught his attention but didn’t fix it. He felt the pebbles beneath his feet. Without forgetting other sensations, he included the view of the setting sun. The sound of a cardinal’s trill entered his ear from the West. Another answered from beyond the first. The movement of the air tingled his face and a slight odor and taste of wood smoke arose from his leather clothing. That reminded him of a talk with Embeas but Shaman didn’t engage the thought or the emotion that connected to it. He let it pass and momentarily concentrated his focus on the rim of the sun as it disappeared below the horizon. In the next moment he reopened the rest of his senses.
Absolute stillness was not his goal. A temporary disconnect from the conflicts and worries of social interactions and the emotions that accompanied them would allow peace of mind. In a peaceful state, his mind could entertain the spirit. The understanding would come and he would examine it in the light of knowledge to find the dream. The dream would realign the spirit of the community. The disturbance aroused by Embeas’s ego would settle. Peace would return. That’s the theory.
The memories of the clan he’d learned from his teacher and his own experience, record past incidents in which the paradigm had succeeded. Shaman knew for certain that if he imagined there was no hope then it certainly was hopeless. If, conversely, he could imagine the problem and not despair, he might imagine a solution. But he couldn’t do it alone. He needed the help of his predecessors and his clan to pull it off. It wasn’t his plan to lead them. He would attempt to show them the probable consequences of choices. He trusted the people to choose for themselves and would not pressure them. The information he provided would be accurate, correct and complete to the best of his ability. He would do his best not to color it and to express it dispassionately. No one had ever questioned his sincerity, honesty or unselfishness.
The dream would not be a mere recounting of historical events nor would it add only an extrapolation from them. It must attempt to envision consequences and events that have never before occurred and make adjustments to the future through recognition of a dynamic present. Such flexibility may or may not be consistent with past words and deeds. This now is what must be dealt with. There is no rule by which success may be measured or assured.
After twenty minutes of peaceful reflection on his immediate surroundings, thoughts with emotional attachments and other disturbing memories had ceased to arise. He had neglected to engage them one by one. All that remained was the present joy of existence. It had taken many years of practice to produce this state of mind at will.
A few minutes of ecstasy had quickly passed when the vision arrived. What he imagined might come of the choice of Embeas if it were to prevail was anything but delightful rapture. In his spirit dream the Shaman sees Embeas lead the young warriors on some successful raids. Taking the larger community by surprise leads to dominance for a time. But the Wolf clan becomes addicted to living on the spoils of war rather than their own hard work. Losing the inclination and even the knowledge of how to provide for themselves introduces an unforseen vulnerability. Wolf clan becomes dependent for its survival on the work of others. When nearby communities band together to preemptively put a stop to the destructive and parasitic behavior, the Wolf Clan must flee the neighborhood. Having forgotten how to fend for themselves, most starve. But Embeas and his crew move on. Many young warriors of other clans follow their example. Before long a broad territory is infected. Saturation of the area with raiders who’ve forgotten how to hunt and gather their own food results in cultural changes that lead to area wide starvation. Shaman came down hard, as did Embeas’ war club. Bone, blood and brains were strewn in the sacred circle.
Embeas felt filled with power. He knew now that the raiding could begin. He had only to plant the evidence that would implicate the Horse Clan in the murder of the old shaman. His vision for the community would then be easily transmitted to a majority. . . .
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