I had a dream...¦
A man was in his garden, on a table were a score or so sheets of paper-
He approached then with intent while they sat there, motionless with the
small pen weighting them-
Then a gentle gust got up and they started to relieve themselves of his order-
Flying pen then papers hither and yon.
His reaction seemed to be of irritation, his emotion anger-
Meanwhile the paper pauses and then dances again-
It seemed such an imposition on current purpose.
'I really don't need this' he cried out loudly (actually I'd rather not write
what he -----ted;-)
Then a little, quiet voice in him seemed to say, 'That was precisely what you
'How so?' He inquired.
'How so, indeed!' The little, quiet voice seemed to say. 'And on what subject
were you to scribble on those sheets?'
'Emergence experienced both in and of LO's'
'Mmmm, a lesson then in L etting g O!'
The man took the sheets of paper and threw them up in the air; the wind took
them again re-writing the same lesson though non-spontaneously.
The little, quiet voice remain within him and asked a question, ' Did you see
then the Glider.'
'Is that a question or a command?
'It is a both/and...¦'
'It is the moving boundary that is the hedge that is the line that is the
interface that is the movement that sits still that is the life that is
(Do you get the sense one of these two is stuck?)
'What are five times five?'
'YES, WHAT are five times five?'
Years later...¦;-) when and only when the man in the garden was prepared
he had built something he called a 'cellular automaton'. It was like a
'field' containing thirty five plots or sub-plots ;-) ( getting the rich
picture?) and he discovered that if five among the thirty five are black
with the other thirty remaining white each might have at its edges and
corners eight inputs (relationships) and if at each (discontinuously
imposed) step if a square is now 'white' and three of its neighbors are
'black' then it switches to being black, otherwise it stays white.
Alternatively, if a square is black and two OR three of its neighbours are
black it stays that colour. And with these little quiet and gentle rules
an intriguing pattern emerges, called the Glider. The Glider appears
every fourth step, always moving diagonally over the field or grid.
Predicting the direction of the glider is impossible by conventional
mathematics. - "It is a consequence of non-linear relationships between
(I am heartfelt obliged to the work of John Holland and John Conway at the
Santa Fe Institute for the above poetry.)
Lesson. Beauty and order are set deep into the becoming of creation.
Let go and attend to what is 'happening' and you will see why Margaret
Wheatley is so beloved in the fields you all toil in; for the poetry of a
vision that will yet save the day and the seedlings. She cares for all.
I must go fly,
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