Two dot, a pair of eyes, a voice, a touch, complete surprise: two dot.
—”Growing Up” by Peter Gabriel
Image c. Nevit Dilmen
Last night we told the story of One, that first being who birthed themself from Unbeing. But it would not be much of a story if things simply stopped at One.
Fortunately for us, One eventually came to recognize themself. Just how this happened no one can say for sure. Some say they simply looked down at their hands and realized they had form as well as thought. Some say One was lonely, and from that loneliness came an understanding of self. Some say One looked in a mirror, and in that swirling pool of star-stuff they saw themselves reflected.
(“But where did they get a mirror?” asks the inquisitive child. “Shhh, it’s a mystery,” replies the long-suffering parent.)
When the One recognizes itself, there are then two. The Second, by its nature, is now separated from the One; thus Two is the source of all further differentiation of the One.
As each studies the other they are drawn together. Gazing at one another, One cannot help but see something of themself in Two, and likewise, Two also sees something of themself in One. Two and One find they complement each other perfectly. In each other, they find joy.
Light the second candle, celebrate the joy of unified opposites.
Happy is the moment, when we sit together,
With two forms, two faces, yet one soul,
you and I.
The flowers will bloom forever,
The birds will sing their eternal song,
The moment we enter the garden,
you and I.
The stars of heaven will come out to watch us,
And we will show them
the light of a full moon –
you and I.
No more thought of “you” and “I.”
Just the bliss of union –
Joyous, alive, free of care, you and I.
All the bright-winged birds of heaven
Will swoop down to drink of our sweet water –
The tears of our laughter, you and I.
What a miracle of fate, us sitting here.
Even at the opposite ends of the earth
We would still be together, you and I.
We have one form in this world,
another in the next.
To us belongs an eternal heaven,
the endless delight of you and I.
—”You and I, in the Palace” by Rumi