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In the magical year of 2100, on NewYear’s Day, a spirited boy namedHonda ventured down to the river.The water sparkled like a thousanddiamonds, and Honda’s heart dancedwith anticipation.Honda had two favorite things:hanging out with his friends by theriver and exploring its hidden cornersall by himself. He loved the thrill ofdiscovery— the secrets whispered bythe breeze. And oh, how he adoredchasing after animals and trying tocatch slippery fish! Rain lashed against the attic window, the rhythmicdrumming a familiar soundtrack to Maya's internalstorm. College applications loomed, eachprestigious university a shimmering miragetaunting her with a future she wasn't sure shedeserved. Her grades were stellar, but herextracurriculars were a wasteland of half-finishedprojects and abandoned clubs. Unlike her bestfriend, Alex, whose passion for environmentalactivism was a blazing inferno, Maya's sparkflickered uncertainly.Suddenly, a glint of emerald green caught her eyefrom beneath a dusty stack of childhood books. Itwas a leather-bound volume, its cover adorned withconstellations swirling around a depiction of figuresholding hands. Curiosity piqued, she opened it, awave of energy crackling from its pages. Words like"multilevel selection" and "cultural evolution"danced before her eyes, as bewildering as a crypticpoem.

Joseph, played by the river with hisbrother - his trusty companion.Together, they laughed, splashed, anddreamed of far-off lands. Last night,they’d celebrated the new centurywith a grand party, and now, as thesun peeked over the horizon, theywere ready for another day of wonder.

Alba arrived early at the riversidewhere she loved to wander. Shecherished these quiet moments—thesun warming her back, the forestsmells enveloping her. Alba knew thather friends would soon join her, andtheir laughter would fill the air. But fornow, she sat in stillness, grateful forfamily bonds as unbreakable as theriver’s flow. Then, a miniature figure materialized – ashimmering being with wings that resembledstained glass and a mischievous grin. "Greetings,terrestrial!" he chirped, his voice like wind chimesechoing through a cathedral. "I am Professor Zoomy,and this," he flourished the book, "is the ProsocialHandbook, your guide to navigating the intricaciesof… well, everything!"Maya, ever the cynic, raised an eyebrow. "Navigatingthe complexities of… a talking fairy handbook?"Professor Zoomy chuckled, the sound like windchimes dancing in a gentle breeze. "This is no merefairy tale, young one. This tome delves into thefascinating science of evolution, not just of biology,but of ideas and… cooperation."

Down by the river, wandered Chris, thegirl with the curious heart. Hergrandfather had given her a specialmap—the Seven Rivers of Smiles. Eachriver held stories of resilience, ofovercoming troubled times. Chrislonged to understand how these rivershad guided her ancestors to their thriving home - this new century. Alex, who had entered the attic unnoticed, scoffed."Cooperation? Sounds like a self-help manual forgroup projects."Professor Zoomy, unfazed, explained how the bookexplored the evolution of cooperation, not just as abiological imperative, but as a cultural one. Hepointed to a diagram with branching lines andarrows, illustrating how ideas, like cooperation itself,could evolve and spread across societies.Intrigued, Alex leaned closer. "So, you're saying thatthe way we work together isn't just random, it's…shaped by history?"Professor Zoomy nodded, his wings shimmeringwith delight. "Precisely! Just like the human brainitself is a product of millions of years of collaborativeevolution, so too are our social structures and evenour moral codes."

The children played along each of theirriverbanks around the world, their joyechoing like wolves’ calls. But their games were more than fun—they were lessons. The river taughtthem resilience, adaptability, and theart of thriving. The seven rivers hadbrought them into this new century,and now, like young wolves, theyneeded to learn from both theirgrandparents’ tales and the riversthemselves.

Chris puzzled over the map. Wherewere the other five rivers? She knew oftwo—the one she lived near andanother that flowed through distanthills. Were the other five real, or werethey woven from dreams? How couldshe trace her roots along their windingpaths? The revelation sparked a debate that raged long intothe night. Maya, ever the pragmatist, challenged theidea of innate human cooperation. "But Professor,"she argued, "history is filled with conflict andcompetition. Look at any war, any economiccollapse – it's every man for himself, right?"Professor Zoomy patiently countered. "Ah, butconflict too is part of the story. It's throughcompetition and cooperation, the push and pull,that societies evolve better ways to work together."He pointed to the book, revealing a complex chartcalled the "Prosocial Matrix."The matrix resembled a giant web, each node filledwith words like "resource allocation" and "conflictresolution." It was a dizzying display of humanbehavior, a map of the intricate dance ofcooperation and competition.

Meanwhile, Alba sat by the water, herheart full. The sun kissed her cheeks,and the river whispered ancient secrets.She gave thanks for family ties asenduring as the river’s current. Albaknew that no matter where life led, herloved ones would flow alongside her. As they delved deeper, a new understandingdawned. Human cooperation wasn't some utopianideal, but a spectrum, a constant negotiationbetween self-interest and collective good. They sawhow cultures with strong social safety nets fosteredinnovation, while those with rigid hierarchiesstagnated. It was a revelation, a glimpse into thehidden engine that drove human progress.The storm outside had subsided, replaced by a clear,star-studded night. Alex, the firebrand activist,looked at Maya with newfound respect. "Maybethere's more to teamwork than just saving trees," headmitted. "Maybe it's the key to everything – fromfighting climate change to building a better future."

Honda, ever observant, studied thetracks left by animals. Each print told astory—the past, the present, and evenhints of the future. He’d learned thisart from his wise grandad, who spuntales of rivers as lifelines connectinggenerations.

And so, as the sun climbed higher,Honda wondered: Could he track theriver’s wisdom? Could he learn to readits currents, its laughter, and its silentpromises? Perhaps the answers layhidden in the ripples, waiting for curioushearts like his to uncover them.. Maya, her gaze fixed on the glittering constellations,felt a spark ignite within her. It wasn't a blindinginferno like Alex's, but a steady flame, a flicker ofpurpose. The Prosocial Handbook, with its fantasticalguide and mind-bending theories, had shown herthe power of cooperation, and perhaps, just perhaps,it had shown her a way to contribute, to find herown niche in the grand tapestry of humancollaboration.The rain-washed world outside seemed brightersomehow, brimming with possibility. The quest forknowledge had become a quest for purpose, andMaya, with Alex by her side, was ready to embark ontheir next adventure, armed with the unexpectedwisdom of a talking fairy handbook and the powerof teamwork.

Joseph knew of two rivers, but his heartbrimmed with curiosity about the otherfive that Grandma had whisperedabout. Everyone said the waters wereconnected, like a giant puzzle waiting tobe solved. Could Joseph focus hardenough on the water’s surface to hearthe rivers’ ancient stories?

Honda, Alba, Joseph andChris each had heard thestories of the 7 rivers butonly know the physicalrivers of one or two. Each ofthe physical rivers couldteach them all the lessons ifthey learned to listen. Theirgrandparents, aunts anduncles opened their mindsand hearts with their storiesof how the seven rivers hadled them to a time ofthriving at the dawn of thenew century.

Tracking theTrackers

And then there was Grandma’s tale -the one about the first river and thestork. Joseph’s grandmother, Miriam,would sit him down by the fire, hereyes twinkling like stars. She’d begin:

"I grew up in a tiny fishing villagewhere the river flowed into theCaribbean Sea. Oh, how the storksloved that place! They’d swoop down,their snowy plumage shining in thebright sun. Now, Joseph, listen closely. In highschool, I met your grandpa, Thomas.We were dreamers, just like thosestorks. Our hearts soared—we wantedto fly high, see the world, and changeit for the better - studying the span oftime and space, seeking adventure.

Off we went, north to New YorkCity for college. There, we trackedour roots—the stories of slavery,freedom, songs, war, greed, hatred,and love. So much was improving,but we dug deeper. We wanted tounderstand the roots of slavery,aggression, and power.

And you know what, my dear? Thepoor and desperate from the southtraveled with us. They sought work, alife free from fear and hunger. We satin university lectures, exploringHistory, Philosophy, andAnthropology. We sat with thepeople, learning their stories. Thehigher we flew in knowledge, theclearer our vision became.

From our lofty heights, we realized itwasn’t just about battles for powerand resources. No, Joseph, it wasabout who we were, the humanfamily - the ties that bind us all.Women, men, kids and grandparents,all our strengths and intelligences;our relationships with all the naturalworld.We all had the same deep dreamsand love of our families and need totalk through our differences. Buildnew relationships and partnerships.

At the United Nations, we joinedhands with indigenous groups.Together, we brought our knowledgeof sharing, respect, and our love foreach other and the earth to thecenter of governments and power.We took the first steps toward amore thriving global family, just likethe storks flying overhead. AndJoseph, my boy, you carry this legacywithin you."

Joseph listened, his heartswelling. He vowed to keeptracking, keep exploring,and keep the rivers’ storiesalive. For in those tales laythe secrets of a better world—a world where storks andhumans alike could soartogether toward brightertomorrows.

Grandma’s stories flowed like rivers,each tale a magical journey. Now, sheleaned in, her eyes bright, andcontinued:"Listen, my dear ones, to the story ofthe second river. It’s a river that singswith the heartbeat of our homeland—the rhythm of drums, the whispers offamily tales. Imagine the beat ofwaves on the shore, like a thousandhands clapping in celebration.Our homeland was wild and fierce,just like the jaguar that prowled itsforests.

The jaguar called us home, itspowerful spirit urging us to return.And so, we followed the tracks—theones left by wild creatures of theforest and sea. Back in ourcommunities, our hearts echoed thesongs of a thriving future. We knewsurvival wasn’t just about surviving—itwas about thriving. We embraced thenatural rhythms—the rising sun, thefalling rain, the ancient skills passeddown through generations.

We connected with the land, ourcommunity and stayed connectedto those on the front lines, at theseats of power, bringing prayers,bringing change. Our survival smilesled us through social andenvironmental change. The work ofmany of us had turned the tideenough that a river’s course openedtoward a thriving future

"Listen, my dear ones, tothe story of the secondriver. It’s a river that singswith the heartbeat of ourhomeland—the rhythmof drums, the whispersof family tales. Imaginethe beat of waves on theshore, like a thousandhands clapping incelebration.

Grandfather Bpùu began a magical tale.Honda, a curious child, sat close by,mesmerized by the crackling fire. In thedistance, the gentle trumpeting ofelephant herds echoed through theancient trees.“Listen,” Grandfather Bpùu said, his voiceas soothing as a babbling brook. “This taleis about the third river—the one that flowsnot with water, but with passion.”Honda leaned in, eyes wide. “What’spassion, Grandfather?”“It’s the force that moves the grandmotherElephant,” Grandfather explained. “She’sthe wise matriarch, her wrinkled skintelling stories older than time.

She leads her family—little ones, aunts,uncles—through life’s wild jungle.”“But why, Grandfather?” Honda asked.“Because family matters,” Grandfatherreplied. “The grandmother Elephantknows this. She strides with purpose, hermassive feet leaving trails in the earth.Her eyes, like ancient gems, hold secretsof love and resilience. She is free to roamand make choices for the good of herfamily, the family connected to the familyweb of life. She teaches all her family togain mastery as a unit, connected to theweb of life. Connected to the mysteriesthat live deep in their eyes and hearts.”

Your grandmother and I were youngteachers, near the mountains outsideChiang Mai, many years ago. The childrenwould hear the Elephants take a photoand then run and hide with fear. Theycaptured them with their phones but nottheir hearts.“Are these the children he had heard of ?”Honda wondered. “The ones like his dad,lost in phone screens and daydreams?”Grandfather’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, mydear, yes, your dad yearned for a differentworld than us - a future of comfort andease. But we took him outside, away fromscreens. We showed him life happeningright now - the rivers, the forests, themysteries.”

“And did dad learn, Grandfather?”“He did,” Grandfather said. “He rekindledhis passion, explored with respect,learning skills to care for you. Seeds ofconnection sprouted, and a leaderemerged - a guardian of the land. Thesechildren began to flow like the river,meandering between forests and towns,knowing they were part of somethinggrand.”Honda smiled. “Like the elephants?”

“Yes,” Grandfather whispered. “Just likethe splendid elephants, your dad and theother children discovered their place inthe fabric of existence—a tapestry wovenwith love, courage, and the magic of thethird river.”

The third river led the children awayfrom their fear of the world in decline.Away from their fantasies of atechnological future of pleasure andease - comfort, safety and security. Theriver meandered through the forest ofsadness, loss and destruction. Poweredby the force of passion, experiencing theworld as it was. The connection andregeneration of life happening momentby moment. With a freedom to explore with respect,the children followed the third rivertoward mastery, understanding theirfamily needs with a sense of purpose,and connected to the love and mysteriesdeep in their hearts.

Like the course of the thirdriver, the grandmotherElephant stridespurposefully, telling storiesof resilience andunwavering commitment.The river flows with theessence of family; choicesmade for the collectiveripple through generations,shaping destinies andechoing across time.

Once upon a time, above the fourth river,perched a wise old owl. His feathers wereas gray as the morning mist, and his eyessparkled like ancient stars. The owl hadseen countless seasons come and go,and he knew secrets whispered by thewind itself.“Listen well, little ones,” said GrandfatherOwl to his eager owlets. “I have a tale totell.”The owlets huddled close, their roundeyes wide with curiosity. “What tale,Grandfather?” they chirped.“Well,” began Grandfather Owl, “you see,we owls are clever creatures. We soarthrough moonlit skies, our wingsbrushing against the very fabric ofdreams. But wisdom comes at a cost. Wemust hunt for our meals, and our favoritedelicacy happens to be mice.”

“The owlets gasped. “Mice? But they’reclever too!”“Indeed,” Grandfather Owl nodded.“Mice scurry through moon-kissedmeadows, their tiny paws leaving trailsof stardust. They know they mightbecome our supper, yet they don’tsurrender. Instead, they multiply—babymice aplenty.”“But why, Grandfather?” asked theyoungest owlet.“

““Because,” Grandfather Owl replied,“survival demands intelligence. Andso, the mice forge their owncleverness. But there’s more. Thefourth river—the magical one—holdsthe key. It’s not a single river, you see.It’s a chorus of rivers, each singing adifferent tune.”“How do we find it Bpùu?” askedHonda. We are not mice.

“Bpùu’s eyes gleamed. “Listen closely,my fledgling. To know the river, youmust surrender to its flow. But notblindly! You surrender when youunderstand your own intelligence andoffer it to others. Share your genius like agift to the river of life.”“But how?” “Ah, we’re not mice or owls. Ourintelligences weave together like asymphony. Harmonize with thosedifferent from you, and you’ll find theriver. It won’t be in screens or machines—it’s in the heartbeats of every livingthing.”

Is that what you and grandma did?Bpùu’s eyes softened. “Yes, Honda. Wegathered people from distant forestsand faraway rivers. We sang together,harmonizing as humans once did. Welistened to all the songs—the whispersof leaves, the laughter of brooks, andthe wind’s ancient tales. That, my dear,is the way.”And so, our students spread their wings,ready to explore the magical river. For intheir harmonies, they’d find not justsurvival, but a future where allintelligences flow as one.

The fourth river shows howsurvival demandsintelligence. In the magicalfourth river, a chorus ofstreams, holds the key.Surrender to its flow,understand your genius,and harmonize with diverseminds. In every heartbeatthe river weavs a symphonyof shared intelligence.Honda longed to explorethis harmonious river whereall intelligences converged.

Living Laws

One sunny afternoon, Sofia beckonedAlba. “Listen closely, sweet one,” shesaid. “I’ll tell you about the fifth river.The frogs, you see, gifted us this grandflow. They taught us a secret: ‘We areneither the beginning nor the end oflife. Life isn’t the start or finish of theuniverse. And the universe itself isn’tthe beginning or end of reality.’”But how, Grandma?” Alba wondered.

““Ah,” Abuela Sofia smiled. “Before weunderstood frog whispers, Marge and Iwere young scientists. We toiled withfarmers, adapting crops to fickleweather. Rivers slowed, mountainsnows forgot their duty. The fifth riverfollowed living laws—we had to learnand follow its gentle trickle.”So we studied—degrees stacked likepebbles. Nature’s laws pirouetted underour microscope. But the rivers? Theyyawned, sluggish and tired. “How did the fifth river flow again,Abuela?” Alba asked.

Sofia’s eyes twinkled. “Listen, my dear toGranny Marge. She will tell you the storyshe told me the day we were studyingthe drying waters. The story from hergrandmother of the giant greedy frogTiddalik. An old story whose wisdomtaught us to stop fighting thebusinessmen and politicians but to bringthem with us into the fifth river. GrannyMarge began:‘Tddalik, the colossal frog, ruled theDreamtime. His belly swelled with greed,swallowing rivers and lakes. The landgasped, thirsting for water. Desperateanimals gathered—the kookaburra, thekangaroo, and the wise old eel.’

The eel, with sinuous grace, whispered,“We need laughter, Tiddalik. A ‘FunnyShow’ to shake your belly.”So they danced—the kookaburra’scackling wings, the kangaroo’s bouncyhops, and the eel’s undulating coils.Tiddalik chuckled, his belly jiggling. Waterflowed, filling creeks and billabongs. Theeel’s dance became legend—a rhythm ofcooperation, laughter, and life.And from that day, whenever raindropsfell, they echoed the eel’s dance - and thegiants laughed and the fifth river flowed.

Abuela Sofia, with her silver hair andtwinkling eyes began., “Listen closely, mydear Alba,” she “The sixth river is noordinary stream. It’s a river ofconvergence.”Alba tilted her head. “What’sconvergence, Abuela?”“It’s like when puzzle pieces fit together,”Sofia explained. “People, ideas, andplaces—all coming together. But thisriver? It’s special. It transforms those whodare to follow it.”Aunty Marge and Sofia once stood by theriver during the great convergence. “Wewent our own ways,”

Sofia continued. “I followed the river tothe bustling city, where skyscraperstouched the clouds. We transformed thecity, converged it with the wild forests,and magic happened.”Alba’s eyes widened. “Magic?”“Yes,” Sofia nodded. “So many of usjoined hands—farmers, artists, anddreamers. We wove a tapestry for ourgrandchildren—a thriving future. Andyou know what happened? The noisycars and stern dictators? They wereswept away, like leaves in a playfulbreeze.”

“But where did they go?” Alba asked.Sofia smiled. “They transformed.Became our allies. The sixth rivertaught us that bravery leads to change.And in that transformation, hopedanced like fawns in the spring.Aunt Marge smiled, ‘The sixth riverbrought me back to my homeenvironment, my family ecosystemconverging with another family - a newfamily transformed.

From the fifth and sixthrivers, Alba was learningthat life isn’t confined tobeginnings or endings. Therivers unite people, ideas,and places. To follow theserivers would transform fearto hopefulness. To journeyalong these rivers wouldreveal that life and realityextend beyond boundaries,and courage leads toprofound change.

“By the fire nestled among whisperingpines, Chris approached Grandpy Joeand Uncle Chips. “Sit down with us,Chris,” Grandpy Joe said, his eyestwinkling. “How’s the map? Did you findthe seven rivers?”Chris scratched her head. “I think so,” shereplied. “I listened to the rivers—theyhummed like ancient songs. And guesswhat? I saw a bear!”

Uncle Chips chuckled. “Ah, that bear! He’sback, waiting for the salmon. You know,the ones we released? They’re swimminghome this year.”Grandpy Joe leaned in. “The bear guardsthe seventh river. It’s his very own stream.”Uncle Chips grinned. “The bear needs it all—salmon, berries, plants, roots. Winter’scold, summer’s warmth. He’s a needy guy,that bear.”Grandpy Joe added, “he follows a system.Stick to it, or he loses his power.”“What’s his system, Gramps?” Chrisleaned closer.

““We’re still figuring that out,” GrandpyJoe said. “But here’s the secret: we’repart of his system too. We learn, adapt,and keep brother bear thriving.”And so the Eders told the tales of rivers,bears, and the magic of systems.Once upon a time, when the salmonvanished and the halibut and prawnsfollowed suit, we rolled up our sleeves.We worked for the fisheries, cleaningwater tainted by fish farms. We shutthose farms down—our first step. Stopthe harm, then clean up.

“But the real challenge? Balancing thesystem. Life’s like a giant puzzle, andnone of us had all the pieces. So weteamed up with computers. They’resmart at crunching numbers, but theydon’t see or feel like we do. No spirit, noheartbeat. Still, they helped us computerelationships.

“Back on the land, we focused on rivers.Our happy place. We played our part ina regeneration plan. The wholecommunity pitched in. We stuck to thesystem, checked mornings andevenings, and listened with all oursenses. And yes, we prayed. Part of theplan.

Guess what? The river woke up! Slowly,the seventh river flowed. We learned toshare with bears, not steal theirlivelihood. We humans can eat anything,so we kept it simple. And guess what?Simple thrived. There was room forsalmon, bears, and that seventh river.Just like today, Chris. Love you, Grampy! Love you chips. I’vegot to go now, my friends are waiting. I'llbe back, Oh, I picked you some berries ‘Chris handed the Elders the berries andoff she ran.

Chris clutched the magicalmap, its paper edgescrinkling under her touch. Itrevealed seven secret rivers,winding throughenchanted forests andacross vast lands. The riversnear her home whisperedall these ancient tales. Theycarried memories ofgrandparents’ laughter,aunts’ wisdom, and uncles’courage. Rivers that flowedwith lessons of connectionand regeneration.

So the 22nd Century began. Chris playeddown by the river with her friends. Theyplayed and learned how to live together.They spent time alone and learned fromthe river and the life all around. Theyremebered the lessons of the seventhriver and how their gandparents hadfollowed this river toward regenerativeliving and creating the systems withinwhich they could all thrive

Alba swam and splashed in the river.Inventing games and adventures andremembering the stories of the fifth andsixth rivers. The birds song sweetenedtheir days and the frogs chorus filledtheir nights. These songs let them knowthey were flowing with the living lawsand the mother deer and her fawn werehealthy and found balance feeding andbeing fed, and so Alba continued to learnand follow the rivers’ course.

Honda, ever thoughtful and attentive,listened for the elephants, even as he letthe rivers coolness revive his body andspirit. Even as his friends laughter filledhis days, he continued to learn the waysof the wild ones. Noticing theintelligences of all the beings aroundhim, how they all connected and contributed to the rivers’ magic. Hispassion to learn and lead grew each day,watching the grandparents taught themand led them all toward thirving futures

Joseph, his brother and friends sang anddanced as they played along the riversedge. Ever thoughtful, digging deep withtheir questions and desire to understand.Listening, watching, calculating anddeducting. Joseph studied tounderstand the world and all itsmysteries. He dreamed of flying high likethe stork - a master in the mysteries ofthe rivers and the visions of the skies.

The wolf family looked on as the humanslearned to navigate the rivers withinwhich all thier futures depended. Thehumans were learning to direct theirpotential, journeying toward balance andconnection. They were not wolves, norstorks, nor bears, nor frogs, but couldlearn from them all. They were learning touse their knowledge for the benefit of alland in turn, their own families’ futures. And so, dear reader, lets learn from therivers and take the plunge to live theirwisdom. Your grandchildren and Alba,Honda, Chris and Joseph will hear yourstories and learn of your courage and allwill thrive now and into the next century.

Toward ThrivingFutures 2100