Archive for the ‘Series’ Category
The Diplomat Speaks of Heavenly Mountain
Friday, April 23rd, 2010
The Diplomat and I had walked so long through silent forests and babbling villages that my first city was a shock and an offense to me. Three times he gently took strangers by the shoulder and made them return my amulet pouch.
“Pickpockets, we call them on Gaia,” he said. “They think you carry money in that pouch.”
“Money?” I asked blankly.
He explained about money, but that was not what I wanted to learn; I wanted to know how he came to be so wise, so clever to notice the pickpockets and to stop them with such peaceful firmness.
“…And please don’t say ‘experience’ like my grandfathers would,” I begged. “Please, I know you studied in special places.”
He laughed.
“I wasn’t going to say experience only. I did study on Heavenly Mountain. There are eight thousand and one steps up our mountain,” he said with love and memory in his voice, touching the long fold of his robe. “Carved in the face of each step, to read as you climb, are the words of the sages and oracles. There are temples on the landings, guarded by clear streams and bamboo forests, where you must serve and study before you climb again, until you reach the summit.
“There, where you can see the mountain ridges falling away to the horizon, the great masters give you your final lessons from mind to mind, without speaking, because by then you are ready.
“All this is widely known. What is not well known is the final secret: that you have learnt nothing until you have returned down each and every step and used your wisdom in the world beyond the mountain. It’s easy to be wise on that silent summit; rather harder in the shouting marketplace, among the pickpockets.
“I remember the climb back down. That’s when I noticed the other wise words, inlaid in lapis and jade on the top of each step, hidden right under foot. I thought to myself, ‘How did I never notice these before?’ I laughed, then, for I knew I had been too busy climbing.”
Ike Turnbull Answers ‘Rabbiless in Renton’
Thursday, April 22nd, 2010
Uncanny Pittsburgh welcomes new columnist Ike Turnbull, who will answer questions from uncanny people just like you on life, love, and self-actualization.
Dear Ike,
I’m a golem who’s been having trouble with my rabbi. When I was first created, he ranted to me and gave me orders all the time. It was like a dream. But I think he’s just tired of me now. He never sends me to defend anything or gives me new prayer scrolls any more. I hate myself for suspecting this, but I think he might be getting mixed up in ouija boarding. What can I do?
Rabbiless in Renton
Dear Rabbiless,
Don’t guess at what your Rabbi might be thinking: talk to him. Maybe he has concerns he doesn’t think he can tell you about. Create a safe environment for him to share his feelings. If you want to know if he’s using a ouija board, ask him. If he is, help him understand that he has a problem, but that there is help. Courting random spirits with an upside-down tumbler just isn’t what healthy people do. There are safe facilities where he can go that will help him understand why ghostly manipulation of the alphabet isn’t the answer, and that can help him transition back to a normal life through substitutes like touchpad finger painting and air hockey.
But if ouija boarding isn’t the problem, ask yourself frankly what your role has been in the relationship. Do you stand silently awaiting his orders for months or years as necessary? If not, why not? Have you killed anyone for him lately? Sometimes all a golem-Rabbi relationship needs to perk up is the destruction of someone truly evil. Try to think about both your needs and his needs. How can you work together so that everyone feels fulfilled?
And this doesn’t relate to your question, but golem friends of mine always tell me to recommend cocoa butter. Apparently it keeps your clay as fresh and malleable as the day you were wakened, even in hot sun. Just a handy tip.
Ike
Ike Turnbull is the author of Women are from Venus, Vampires are from Hell and How to Cope With Your Poltergeist. He welcomes questions from readers of Uncanny Pittsburgh and in comments on its sister publication, The Daily Cabal.