Abhidhamma Papers |
The first to be encountered worked closely together. As a pair, they held all responses and reactions, the one defining the response, the other adding details of quality. They could show wisdom or the dullest stupidity, acting in the general interest or leading toward's the community's downfall. Amongst them were to be found the highest merits, yet neither family could dictate a course of action, and for this their rank was low in council. They did not know the rules of creation, but simply provided the material. Together they formed the house of Fondril, the pulse of the community.
At that time, a house weighed evenly with a family of the house of the next in order. It might also have a function in that house, as if it were one of its families. So Fondril served as a family for the house of Javandra, responsible for movement. Its countless responses had to be translated into actions, each following a specific sequence. The families of Javandra contained, firstly, the academicians - thinkers - from all disciplines whose purpose was to conceive the plan of action in all its stages. Depending on the quantity and quality of information received, their proposals varied in effectiveness, but this was beyond their control. They could only work with the material at their disposal.
The second family constructed the finished product. If their instructions were clear, the builders would be sure to carry them out in their entirety. Similarly a weak or hesitant command could only lead to vague and indecisive action, and sometimes to no action at all. But just as the families of Fondril were incapable of performing the actions they desired, so also the families of Javandra could not adjust or interfere with the demand for an action. If the response to a stranger was as to an enemy, all subsequent action would act on that assumption, even if it were wrong, until such time as fresh information was received.
Thus actions were completed. Like a single huge mind, these combined operations worked within a structure in which each individual was recognized and, for better or for worse, was provided with the mechanisms for exercising this particular skill. But once activated, these skills could not exist in a world of their own, isolated both from external stimuli and outgoing reverberations. There had to be effect, not only on a scale visible to the immediate protagonists, but sometimes carrying long-lasting echoes far beyond the original intention. Understanding of these consequences lay with another family, few in number but well-heeded in council. They overlooked the entire realm of process, adding, as it were, a fourth dimension to all activities from the most casual to the most deliberate. The irony of their role was at the time of action few could share their understanding, yet without this dimension no deed was complete. They dwelt in the castle, Turorn, to be feared.
The last factor extended the framework one step further, adding a final twist to take the spiral back to its source. All were dependent on its substance for their physical base. The earth was respected as a family by all who worked on it. It was particularly close to Fondril, combining to provide material for all possibilities. And finally, uniquely earthbound, it formed a lonely house, Naluk. To those who appreciated its threefold stance, the full number of families and houses was ten.
This was the complete structure of the community; but how had it come into being, and what were the laws by which it changed? To remain static for more than an instant was impossible, but change was never random. It only seemed so to the unperceptive observer (of whom a few, even in those days, were emerging). In fact, each situation could do no other than follow laws defining both creation and decay and the dependent relationships between all things. These were not the laws of the land, but Law, created long before even the distant ancestors of the community.
Within this large and complex network, what was each man to make of his condition? Out of the mass of individual parts emerged a larger entity, the Path, far wider than the sum of all the parts, and leading to the Unmentioned. The condition for its growth was that all the contributory factors, the families and houses working within the Law, should play their part to the full. In return, the Path became available in its entirety to each and every individual. But no-one had to follow it; such was their choice. For those who elected to set out, each step unfolded for as long as they were prepared to follow, even to the freedom of the Unmentioned. But where they were to be found at their journey's end and whether they were still of the community, only they could tell.