second night

my uncle collected wind-up toys. i remember when i stayed with him, i would always rush to the back room, where he kept them, and quickly wind them all up. then i would watch as they would trample each other, with chattering teeth and clicking noises.

here is a story:

once upon a time, in the city of prague, the jews were persecuted, expelled, and killed by the holy roman emperor, rudolf ii. so rabbi loew, the maharal, created a golem, a thing from mud and clay, with the word of life written on its head, and ordered it to protect the jews. and it did its job. but over time, the golem became more and more violent, killing indiscriminately and scaring all who saw it. finally, the emperor begged rabbi loew to stop the golem, so loew found the golem and the word written on its head - emet, truth or reality - and erased one letter to create met, death. and the golem stopped and turned to dust.

i would watch the wind-up toys go out of control as they slowly wound themselves down and then i would wind them up again.

sometimes i think that god does the same to us. just winds us up and lets us go, lets us repeat the same motions as before. perhaps we are all wind-up toys.