As Canadian as possible under the circumstances

Practical things like my keys, wallet, chapstick, of course. But also less conventional things like stray buttons, paperback books, little toys, nail clippers, and open bags of candy when I offered strangers new acquaintances candy they always said yes which either says they weren’t raised right or I’m more charming than years of being told not to do that.

I really loved my coats but I did sometimes need to move quicker than they allowed. I remember a friend’s utter astonishment when I saw someone I needed to run up to and said hold my coat. He was left holding my carapace and when I returned he couldn’t stop staring. “You’re so small under there, I’ve thought you were a normal person this whole time but it was all coat!”

At the doctors office getting weighed a week or so later I asked if I needed to take off my coat and boots. She said no, and I stepped on the scale. “A hundred and twenty pounds,” she announced.

My eyebrows shot up and I said, “Sorry, hang on.” I shucked my coat and boots to her impatience and stepped back on.

Her eyes widened and she looked back from me to the coat before saying accusingly, “Ninety seven.”

The Golem: What is it, really?

In Jewish folklore and mysticism, the Golem is an animated being crafted from mud or clay and brought to life through sacred words, letters, and ritual. Rather than just a folklore monster, the Golem represents a profound spiritual mirror: a symbol of human potential, the dangers of unbridled creation, and the delicate balance of the universe.

In Kabbalah, creating a Golem was the ultimate test of a mystic’s spiritual alignment and mastery over the universe's building blocks.

Ancient texts teach that the universe was created out of the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet, viewed as spiritual DNA or cosmic energy channels. To create a Golem, a mystic walked in precise circles around the clay shape, chanting specific combinations of these letters. If the mystic made even a single error in pronunciation or intention, the ritual could fail catastrophically, turning the destructive energy back on the creator.

Traditionally, the Golem is brought to life by writing the Hebrew word Emet (אמת - Truth) on its forehead. To deactivate the Golem, the first letter (Aleph) is erased, leaving the word Met (מת - Dead). Truth is the ultimate animating spark of the universe, and the line between vitality and absolute nothingness is incredibly thin.

While a Golem can move, follow orders, and protect, it lacks a Neshama (the higher, divine soul) and speech. It possesses only Nefesh, the basic animalistic life force. Lacking a moral compass or emotional intelligence, it acts as a raw, unfiltered mirror of its creator’s psyche. If the creator is motivated by fear or anger, the Golem inevitably manifests that chaos.

On a personal level, the Golem represents our raw impulses, anger, and defense mechanisms. We often build emotional armor (a Golem) to protect ourselves from trauma or external threats. But if we leave that protective anger running on autopilot without mindfulness, it eventually grows too big to control and begins to destroy our inner peace and relationships.

How do you see the Golem manifesting in your own life?

Shabbat Shalom 🪞🤍

The basic lesson is: Let Your Friends Change.

Because you want your friends to change. They, being cheeses in their own right, still have maturing to do, and when they do, this should be acknowledged and celebrated. Or maybe they didn't change - you just found out new things about them, or about yourself, things that put your relationship in a different light. Or maybe you just stopped being such a dick in general.

So the actual lesson is: Let The Way You Treat Your Friends Change.

When we interact with people we are all to some degree interacting with the tulpa of the person in question that lives inside our heads. Sometimes the tulpa needs adjusting to fit the person, and too often we are lazy about installing updates.

Updates can be things like:

-This person who I didn't know well enough to trust is now a person I can trust. (or vice versa.)

-This person who I was acting as a mentor to has graduated from being a mentee and should now be treated as a peer.

Relatedly: -This person who I was acting as a parent to is now an adult and should be treated like an adult.

Obviously: -This person has gone through an important transition and I should behave accordingly.

Unfortunately: -This person who I have been treating as a rival and/or a threat to my position is just a person and it turns out all of that was in my head.

So the practical lesson is: Stop Being Such A Paranoid, Condescending Asshole.

And I don't mean that in a self-hating way! Self-hatred is a dead end, and we are all assholes sometimes. It's more a friendly reminder to examine why I'm treating people in certain ways, and to make an adjustment if I don't like what I see. It's an exercise worth doing.