Our honeymoon with Dionysus didn’t last long. A few weeks after our wedding, I went to the Club again and there was no talking, just preparation for war. Everybody’s faces were painted and I had no questions.
A week later, everybody was wearing black and grieving. They were grieving the loss of the world to pandemic. The music was dark and as I was going through purification, I realized how important it was to go to this dark place to grieve. In a way, grieving gave me clarity and focus. I still need to believe that truth is in rebirth and in hope – not in comfort or success. Yes, maybe this virus will impact my career prospects, maybe I’ll even have to leave London, maybe I won’t have a chance to find love, but I still have to follow the truth and pray for guidance towards the truth. I have to continue dying – letting everything that’s not true to die until I’m nothing and can be reborn. And I still have to be aiming for joy and not pain.
Dionysus seemed angry at the world, or maybe disappointed. The intensity of the emotion made him grow in size until he was a giant. I thought it was for two reasons: first, the world gone mad gave him a sense of validation and second, it was in preparation for tough times. I wondered if maybe now is the time for all of us who are mad to finally be confident because in a way, we’re prepared for this. Hemingway insisted that now was the time to take out my laptop and bleed.
In the end of all this, I found myself out in a grass. I saw waterfalls I used to love as a child and thought to myself – whatever happens, there will always be places of serenity.