“Why.”
“Why?" I asked, exasperated. "There is no why. There has never been a why. That is the entire point."
“Let's keep moving, mi amiga. It's getting cold and it will be dark soon. And you need to start taking that question seriously.”
“Wrong, René." I knew he was trying to ground me. He was one of the few who could, one of the very few I trusted. "It takes a long time for the sun to set this far north. More than enough light for the walk back. And only philosophers and fools take that question seriously.”
"Then we must be both."
He was perhaps right, yet questions of why no longer mattered. They were serious questions, but they were the wrong questions. In some hands, some minds, they were benign. In others, dangerous. The Teleots had already shown that they couldn't operate in world -- couldn't conceive of a world -- without simple, definite answers, simple cause and effect. So too the crumbling, populist dictatorships around the world, Turkey, Great Britain, The United States. They feared nothing more than uncertainty. The only question worth considering now was how to how to keep moving, how to make progress. How. Not why.
"Are you anxious?"
"Me? You're the one going under the knife."
"That is a rather dramatic way to describe it."
"You know me."
"Well, it is your knife and it's quite real."
We rounded Lion's Gate and headed back toward the city in silence. We both had a lot to think about with what we were presenting to the conference. I lost myself in light cascading across glass faces of downtown Vancouver, the underside of the clouds lit pink by the setting sun. René's boat even at this distance was impressive; elegant and powerful yet understated and unassuming. René brought me out of my reverie as we approached the road and hailed a car.
“Do you know what you're going to say?”
“Yes, of course, generally. Well...vaguely. I was planning to work out the details in the shower.”
He gave a short chuckle. “You're always leaving things to the last moment. Just don't over do it.”
“Over-do it?”
“These are sober, serious people, most of them. They respect you, and even though it's not your official role many consider you a leader, but I worry that you can be too much for some of them. We need them all.”
“They're here aren't they?”
“That is a minor miracle. Extremism is at the root of all this and when you charge head-long into diatribes on false beliefs and backward world views you sound as extreme as the Teleots. This is a sophisticated group, even the Teleos in their way. They don't need a lecture. They want a steady hand and a plan.”
"We are giving them more than that."
"More than what?"
"More than a plan."
"Yes. Give them a why."