The Catalysts

Catalyst – a person or thing that precipitates an event.

Change – the act or instance of making or becoming different.

Chaos – complete disorder and confusion.

Seed – the cause or latent beginning of a feeling, process, or condition.

Introduction

They were catalysts, and didn’t know it. How could they? When life is full of change that you precipitate, it all seems the same. Change is only seen as occurring differently when there is a normal by which you measure such change. Normal is not a word, or a way of being, that they knew. No, change is what they knew, constant and ever present. Their normal, their every day.

Chaos, then, is what they knew well. Chaos is everywhere in the world, yet humans believe there is an order to things. Time is a good example of a seemingly ordered set of principles, and people rely on it immensely. Yet, time is not ordered. Time is, in fact, very chaotic. Time changes, and precipitates events, and also creates disorder and confusion, hence chaos. We put stability on time, time is not stable. And, this they knew.

They were seeds, and this everyone knew. Seeds of chaos and seeds of change, hence the catalysts.

Known – recognized, familiar, or within the scope of knowledge.

Being – the nature or essence of a person.

BOOK I

Part 1

1

“The power of a bold idea uttered publicly in defiance of dominant opinion cannot be easily measured. Those special people who speak out in such a way as to shake up not only the self-assurance of their enemies, but the complacency of their friends, are precious catalysts for change.”

Howard Zinn

It was a day like any other day, chaotic, and ever changing, yet they knew it not, as normal was equal to change in every way and in every part. The winds change, the tides change, the moon changes, yet people believe they are static – for the sun is in the sky surely it is static, not moving – not true. True to them, was the every day occurrence of defying the traditional societal model. Pushing back on the status quo. This was their work. Their life work, in fact.

There were four of them. One in the east, one in the west, one in the south, and one in the north. Connected by a deep inner knowing, not by physicality, not by geography, but by a knowing. Knowing, familiar, recognizable, and within their sense of being.

Their being was their calling. Their mere existence was catalyst enough. No action necessary, though in action were all four, always. People, events, even ideas were attracted to them. And, inside of each of these people, events, and ideas even, were the seeds of change. Seeds that were drawn out and exercised by the four. One person, event, and idea at a time. And sometimes, on rare occasions, a person, event, and idea coalesced in such a way, that the confluence of which created change across the globe.

The East

Was where Sheldon was located, atop a mighty castle stretching to the very bounds of the heavens, in the nether regions of the continent, tucked away in a hidden forest overgrown with hundreds of years of growth. Trees and bushes dripping with dew from the continuous rain showers that plagued this area of the globe. These forests were also home to many small tribes, all of which paid homage to the heaven stretched castle known as the Castalistidom – the catalyst.

One such tribe, the Wiki, were sworn to care for the Eastern catalyst and had been doing so for thousands of year, generations upon generations. Nestled within the forest all around the Castle, they tended the crops, raised the cattle, traded and barded with neighboring tribes, and of course, took care of the Castle grounds and Sheldon’s estate.

Within the Castle there were several Wiki, some cleaned the Castle, some prepared and cooked meals, some counseled Sheldon on affairs of the estate and neighboring lands, and one Wiki in particular, Quara was always with Sheldon, whether at home or afar. Quara was old, very old, and had been serving at Castalistidom their whole life. Generations of Quara’s family served in this same capacity, and though difficult, Quara would not have it any other way, for Castalistidom was the way of life, the only one, that Quara, and their people, knew of.

Sheldon was in their room, which was at the very center of the Castle, below the main floor, where it was often dark, just like Sheldon liked it. For it was in this darkness that Sheldon found the light. The light that was inside of the meditative practice, Sheldon’s Art, the gift given so many generations ago. Given by whom, no one knows. No one dare asks, for it was given at a time of great upheaval in the world, an upheaval not seen since.

Generally, peace was the tome of the day across the globe, yet that was about to change.

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