The Fable of the Crystal Lake and the Shifting Shadows

By: Christine Jones

For those who prefer to listen to the article, a team member has also recorded an audio version

Once upon a time, in a land surrounded by towering mountains, there was a tranquil village beside a crystal-clear lake. The villagers had always lived simple lives, growing crops, tending to their animals, and passing on their knowledge to the next generation. They were content, and their lives followed a natural rhythm, guided by the seasons, the land, and the clarity of the lake.

The lake was special. It had been named Truth Lake, for its waters were so clear that anyone who looked into them could see the true reflection of themselves and the world around them. It was a gift from the Creator; a natural, unchanging truth, visible to all who would seek it. But over time, some of the villagers began to question the clarity of the lake. They started to argue that the reflections seen in the water were mere interpretations, shaped by each individual’s perception. “What you see in the water may not be what I see,” they said. “Perhaps we each have our own truths. Truth is subjective, after all.”

The village elders, long wise in the ways of the lake, saw this growing skepticism and knew something had to be done. They called for a gathering at the lake’s edge, where the villagers could discuss the matter openly. One of the elders, an old man named Aurelius, who had spent many years studying the lake, stood and addressed the crowd. “It is true that we each have different experiences, and it is true that our minds are limited in understanding. But the lake is not shaped by our thoughts or feelings. It reflects the world as it truly is, independent of our opinions.” A young villager, Lena, stepped forward, a bright but skeptical thinker who had been taught by others that truth was relative. “But how do we know what’s true? My truth may not be the same as yours. If you say the lake reflects reality, is that not your personal understanding of it?” Aurelius smiled gently. “Lena, look closely at the water. If the reflection were merely your truth or my truth, would the mountains change when someone else looks at them? Would the shape of the clouds shift depending on who gazes at them?”

Lena peered into the water, saw the mountains and the sky, just as Aurelius had said. The truth of the reflection did not change. Whether it was Lena, Aurelius, or anyone else, the water revealed the same reality, for the lake reflected an objective truth—what was real and unchanged by human perception. “But what if someone doesn’t see the mountains clearly, or sees something else entirely?” Lena asked, her doubts still lingering. “Ah,” Aurelius said, “that is the heart of the matter. If someone sees something contrary to the true reflection, it is because their vision is clouded, by fog, by illusion, or by a misunderstanding of the way things truly are. These are not different truths, but errors. Just because someone believes the reflection of the lake is a dragon, does not mean it truly is one. It only means that their mind is deceived.”

A young boy named Finn, who had been quietly listening, stood up and spoke. “But what if the experts say the lake reflects a different truth? Should we believe them instead of what we see?”

Aurelius turned to him, nodding. “Good question, Finn. Experts can help us understand the world, and sometimes they can see things we cannot. But no expert, no matter how wise, can create the truth. They can only help us to better perceive it. Just because someone is skilled at reading the water, or has studied the lake for years, doesn’t mean they are the creators of the reflection. The truth of the water remains, whether they agree with it or not.”

The villagers began to murmur among themselves. Aurelius continued, “True knowledge comes from our ability to observe, to reason, and to reflect on the reality that is before us. We are all bound by the same truth; the reflection in the lake does not change based on our desires or what we wish to see.” “But if everyone has their own understanding, aren’t we all free to live however we want?” Lena asked. Aurelius’s face grew serious. “Freedom is a great gift, Lena, but it is not the freedom to ignore reality. If we each acted on our own illusions; believing that the lake could reflect dragons, or that the sun rises in the west, our world would fall into chaos. True freedom comes from aligning our actions with objective reality, not from creating our own versions of it. Our duties are not to our subjective whims, but to what is right and true in the world.”

He paused, looking around at the gathered villagers. “If we are to remain free, we must all be guided by the truth of the world, not by the shifting shadows of our own desires. That is the only way to ensure peace, order, and respect for one another’s rights. We must respect the objective reality of the world, even when it challenges our own limited understanding.” A quiet hush fell over the crowd as the wisdom of the old man settled in. The villagers looked into the clear waters of the lake and, for the first time, many of them understood. They saw that they were free not by denying objective truth, but by acknowledging it, respecting it, and aligning their actions with it.

Lena, still thoughtful, nodded slowly. “So, truth doesn’t come from what I feel is true, or from what experts tell me, but from what the lake shows us; what is really there, independent of our minds?”

Aurelius smiled warmly. “Exactly! And it is your responsibility, and mine, to use our reason to discern the truth, to reflect on it, and to live by it. We may not have perfect knowledge, but that does not mean we cannot strive to understand what is true. And when we fail, we must accept the truth of our error, correct our course, and keep seeking.”

The villagers, now enlightened, returned to their daily lives, but with a new understanding. They respected the objective reality of the world, and they knew that their freedom came not from creating their own truths, but from recognizing the truth that existed outside of themselves. And so, the village of Everspring flourished again, bound together by a shared commitment to reason, truth, and the common good, as they all learned that only in embracing objective reality could they live freely and justly.

Moral of the Story:

Truth is not a matter of subjective opinion or personal belief. Just as the lake reflects the mountains and the sky without changing, the objective truths of the world exist independent of human thought. We may not always see them clearly, but our duty is to use reason, humility, and observation to better understand the world around us. Freedom comes not from creating our own truths, but from aligning our lives with the unchanging truths of the world. Only then can we truly live in liberty and peace, respecting the rights and dignity of all.

This fable is dedicated to the Correspondence Theory Team and everyone working to reveal the extent of education subversion in its relationship to undermining the American Constitutional Republic; self governance, personal sovereignty, the moral philosophy requisite for that, with its lessons more broadly for the West.

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Christine Jones posts on X/Twitter under the handle @thepalmerworm and on Substack at thepalmerworm.substack.com

Reading done by Krissy_MeowMom.