by Robert Kopecky
“...when you make the two into One, when you make the inner like the outer, and the high like the low...” The Gospel of Thomas, Logion 22
It’s typical, for a lot of us, to start out our lives living from the outside in, and then,
as we get older and wiser, to start living our life a bit more from the inside out. Life can
be nice that way, and natural. So we each end up having two histories, running along
at the same time––the outside one, and the inside one. I’m going to call them your
“surface history,” and your “spiritual history.”
Your surface history is the story of where you came from, where you lived, what
you did when, who you worked for––you know, all the “real” stuff that you could write a
report on using facts and figures. What apparently happened, to the unaided eye. Who
you were (or thought you were supposed to be), at a given time. It’s a clear, “complete”
accounting of where you measured up, and where you fell short, by the standards of our
crazy culture. Kind of like a resumé. But it isn’t “complete” at all, is it?
Your spiritual history is a very different thing. It’s based on the experiences that
form your inner world, your inner self. It’s what happened here inside, where it really
counts. It’s really who you are in your heart, and who you can always be, regardless of
any titles or appearances.
Facts and figures have little place there, because it’s a story made up of dreams
and synchronicities. Of oddly selected recollections. Hidden things that were already
true, and suddenly surfaced as the most profound realizations. Moments of complete
transformation that occurred (and occur) when “nothing’s going on.”
Your spiritual history is rich with symbols that may be significant only to you. It’s
the myth of your inner life––more an ever-changing landscape than a litany. It’s the
story of your real growth.
In fact, your spiritual history is actually far more real, more momentous than your
“real” one. They correlate, but not in a parallel way. They touch each other here and
there, but one is written in the language of the heart. It describes a long forgotten past,
full of unforgetable lessons; as well as the real potential of the future––grounded in
the dependability of the miraculous. Your spiritual history describes an utterly different
dimension of being. It describes your human being.
When your surface history is the only one you’re living, the ground is always
shifting. The view is limited only to what you can see. But, when you serve your spiritual
life, your soul’s life, the ground is solid, and everywhere––but probably invisible. When
your surface self paints your spirit into a corner, your spirit can dance on air, above the
Your spiritual history describes your real now, and your real future, more than
any simple surfaces can. If you try living only to write your spiritual history––allow it
dominion over your surface self––then surfaces will evaporate, and all the possibilities
of the unseen can awaken into being.
“When you make the two into One...and you say: Mountain move! It will move.”
The Gospel of Thomas, Logion 106