Two will be resting on a bed.
One will die,
the other will live.
“Then how is it, sir, that you,
coming from the one Source,
have rested on my couch
and eaten at my table?
Yeshua said to her,
“I am he who has appeared to you
out of the Realm of Unity,
having been granted that which belongs
to my Father, its Source.”
“I will be your student!” she exclaimed.
“Then I say this to you,
if you become whole
you will be full of Light.
If you remain fragmented
darkness will fill you.”
Translation: Lynn Bauman in
The Gospel of Thomas: Wisdom of the Twin
The First Response:
Even in the bed of intimacy,
even touching through this thin membrane of skin,
some part of us cries
we are alone.
We bind to us ideas,
pets and plants,
careers and homes,
not seeing the armor all things can be.
Come out into the garden tonight,
the moon is just past full,
and if the clouds cover it, no matter.
Sit where you can hear the green exhaling
just for you.
I don’t care if you cry the name “Father”
or call to mind the stranger who washed your feet-
vulnerability is not a ritual,
its a fact,
no matter big the rock we roll before the cave
of our heart.
If you sit with your aloneness
even for the span of ten breaths,
I promise you,
something will stir inside,
who is that which thinks
Journey through Logos:
The language is intimate—two sharing a bed, and one will live and one will die. Today I am hearing the language of our deepest aloneness. No matter what we bind ourselves to, be it lovers or friends, careers or religions, homes or children, we must at some point face that smallness, that vulnerability that we carry within.
Salome, for one moment, heard echoes of the antidote to such a deep wound in the unwavering wisdom of Yeshua. But rather than turn to the experience that would have bound her back with the entire Source and even intimately with “the Father”, she reaches for what is tangible: the human manifestation, the teacher. And Yeshua cautions her, because he could see that movement clearly, from a turning toward the same Light that fills him and then turning away to the outward relationship. He knows, in his aloneness and in hers, he can only point to the Mystery. If his small, alone self is all she clings to, he would be leading her astray. So he tells her, quite bluntly, that if she does not find that union within herself, the “flight of the alone to the Alone” as Plotinus calls it, she will remain fragmented and in darkness. Ironically, once she finds her truest Self, she will be more intimately tied to Yeshua than if she simply tried to cling to the man as "her" teacher.
Hokmah’s Symphonic Note:
“The Great Dancer is my husband," Mira says, "rain washes off all the other colors.”
“I came for the sake of love-devotion; seeing the world, I wept.”
The next time you feel very alone, instead of filling it that hole with entertainment or “ground” of any kind, allow yourself to sit with it. Nothing has to happen, just observe the feeling. And then allow yourself to recognize everyone, billions of us, share this moment with you but not as you. What arises from such a recognition?
We are filled with Wonder when, out of the isolation of our aloneness, we find the intimacy of our Source.
You can find Kim's entire commentary on the Gospel of Thomas in Kindle, paperback and audio formats by clicking on this link: