The moon of change hung full and high in the sky over the lush green forest that surrounds the tribe’s temple in the Tierra Mountain. The cool air of the night was alive with the small rustlings and squeaking of the creatures of the forest, the Tierra’s brothers and sisters, but once inside the special place, no sound was heard, no shuffling of feet, or panting breaths. The Tierra people are silent people, their ears constantly open searching for calls of distress, their feet light and swift, and so, even after the challenging sacred path to the heart of the world, in the cave, no sound existed.

All two hundred and sixty seven tribe members slowly poured into the temple through the hidden door in the dome-shaped cave. The silver plated exquisitely curved stone walls that rise from the heart of the earth, illuminates the space with the bouncing rays of soft moon-light penetrating the otherwise pitch black. Through a perfectly round opening on the ceiling, a perfectly round beam of light enters the heart of the world producing the most beautiful spot of shining moon-light. There, on his stone carved chair, sat HighWind, brightly illuminated, his long hair glistening silver, his deep brown eyes full of intent.

In the expectant silence, the wise shaman spoke in the most direct form of address. He spoke not with sound from his mouth, but with images and sensations. HighWind communicated directly from his mind, from his soul, to those of each of the Tierra tribe members.

This is what he said:

As you all know by now, MoonlightWater, the essence of my life, has given her consent to bear my cub. It is my duty and my honour to attend to MoonlightWater and the cub with all the time and love I have. It has been my great honour to serve the tribe for three long cycles, but the time for me to make way for the next shaman is close at hand. It is for this reason I have gathered you tonight.

HighWind’s announcement came to the tribe as a mid-summer lightning.

At that moment, they were all aware that HighWind had strayed from the Tierra way, and tough they all knew HighWind had an inventive spirit, none expected him to step down without a chosen successor, or at least an apprentice.

HighWind could sense their discomfort: he could hear their minds that spoke of the end of the tribe, he could feel their anger directed at him, overbearing, oppressive. It had never been done before; no shaman had ever stepped down without preparations, and training a new shaman is no quick pounce, rather a long and arduous path not taken lightly.

With a great effort to disconnect from the deluge of images and sensations coming from the now frightened tribe, HighWind explained:

The earth that sustains us is dying, and the people of this world have strayed too far from the simple way of life that maintains the balance. Our brothers who have left the forest to live in the NewWorld send images of pain and destruction. The land is screaming for help, but the human species does not hear her cry. The whole of the animal kingdom is in peril, but few care to notice, and fewer to act. As I am bounded by the needs of the earth as well as the needs of our tribe, it is now time to find a shaman who knows the way of the NewWorld that surrounds us, closing in from every direction, choking the land, destroying our forest.

I can hear your minds that speak of anger, for I have not yet chosen a successor. I can hear your fearful thoughts that speak of the destruction of our tribe.

Abruptly, a cloud rolled in, and with it, the full moon, the temple and the Tierra tribe’s spirits darkened.

It is true; I have not followed the way of the Tierra, but the world we live in is so different from the world we have known, it is my view that it would be foolishness to appoint yet another shaman who is a stranger to the ways of the NewWorld; who, like me, and like the ancestors before me, knows nothing of the NewMan and the world he had curved for himself out of the flesh and blood of our great earth mother. Once, a long time ago, the great earth mother appointed us, the oldest and wisest of all her children to be her guardians.

We are the guardians of this earth yet I am ashamed to say, we are failing. We know nothing about the NewWorld and his ways, we say we wish to tend the great mother, yet have nothing to do with the NewMan; they are her children too are they not? This fear and distain we have to the NewWorld brought us to neglect our duties to care for the mother and all her living decedents. Far too long have we hid behind trees, far too long the Tierra had been fighting the NewMan’s iron beasts from uprooting the green life givers, far too long have we wanted to protect our forest, far too long have we wanted to preserve our ways. Let us appoint a shaman who knows the ways of the NewMan, who can speak in their language of noises, who is familiar with their ambitions and desires.

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You say I have strayed from the Tierra path, I say the Tierra had strayed from the mother’s path, I aim to take us back on that path, I aim to reunite the mother with all her descendents, for I know now that there’s no other way to protect our village, the forest, and the Tierra way of life.

This whole speech was delivered to the tribe in the Tierra silent language, a language that holds no secrets, a language of pure thoughts and emotions that does not know lie or deceit.

‘Talking’ in the this way, the Tierra people way, means that you say only what you feel, or what you need, so communication is always pure and personal. The Tierra do not know how to lie. The concept of saying one thing and meaning another is impossible to them. The Tierra tribe had learned a long time ago that it is a very small proportion of the mind that learns how to lie: it’s called the human ego, and it, the ego, that is behind every lie.

In the Tierra tribe every one of the tribe members is unique and brings their individual skills, talents and point of view, but above all, everyone in the Tierra tribe is appreciated by everyone else, there’s no need for ego, or its lies.

Lately the tribe seemed to encounter more and more people with colourful clothes that made the wildlife shriek and hide away, carrying little boxes that when brought close to their faces made a small lightning. Others cut the trees surrounding the village, burning away the tendrils of vegetation that hold the earth to the stones, and fighting over the land that the Tierra people have always shared with all its living creatures.

With a whisper of polished stone against ancient polished stone, HighWind turned the plinth supporting his chair so that he faced HawksEye.

HawksEye, ancient spiritual mother of the community, was quite sure that no one in the tribe knew anything about the outside world, and therefore not one of the hundreds present could be the next shaman of the tribe.

HighWind held her eyes as she gave her assent: we will send one from among us to seek the next shaman among the tribe members in the NewWorld, they know.

Immediately all of the council’s opinions rushed into HighWind’s mind and the actual silence of the hall was in complete contrast to the torrent of thoughts that the council rained upon him. They each had their own ideas as to who would be the right person for the task, and none of them was quiet about it.

HighWind remained serene, he had anticipated it this time and was ready, he waited for the torrent to become a trickle, before he answered:

The selection has already been made, and will be revealed when the time is right.

Protests were bombarded into HighWind’s mind, but this was his right as shaman: it was known, even if not widely practiced, that the shaman is the only tribe member who is allowed to hold information within himself. More than that, the shaman is the only one who knows how to withhold information from others, because the shaman is the only official person to communicate to other tribes the needs and wishes of the Tierra. If a situation were to arise where another tribe demands war, or to take control of land from the Tierra’s care, it is the shaman’s right to hold back information that might be used against them in any way.

Until now, no shaman had needed to hold back information from his own tribe, and when HighWind sent everybody back to their huts, assuring them that in due time all would be revealed, spirits were high and confused. By the time they had reached the village, a tremor of uncertainty rippled through, it seemed to stream along the narrow paths of the village, passing between the small round huts made of the skin of the earth with their thatched roofs rising like islands above the smoke of the evening fires in the clearing, and although no words were spoken from any of the huts - not a whisper, or a human voice was heard - the tremor was felt in the trees that encircle the village all around, and the earth stretching below.

The animals that walk the forest felt it too. Respectfully, the wildlife retired to their territories, allowing silence to take over the forest: except for the monkeys. The monkeys are the biggest gossips that the animal kingdom has ever known, and on this night they were shouting and jumping in the branches above, laughing and teasing.

So loud and clamorous were they that Oak, the guardian of the children, had to go and exchange thoughts with Varin, the high king of the monkeys, asking for a bit of quiet so that the young ones could go to sleep. Varin had promised to deal with the delinquents, and finally the village slept.