All I Could Think of Was Zeus

“Enough of this. We’re going now to where you will always belong and always must be.”

My ritual language was catching.

Was I being abducted by Zeus now? What would Hades say? WHAT WOULD HE DO?

I was afraid, but then I was not. I was moving towards my destiny, whatever it might be.

All I could think of was Zeus. What did this mean?

What Do You Think Our Relationship Is?

These were not words that Zeus wanted to hear. He grumbled. I couldn’t hear him. He then put his arms on my shoulders. I felt like I was shrinking under his weight.

“Persephone, with your imagination, you should know what to call me. You should know what I want to hear.”

That wasn’t the point. Zeus continued. He was getting oracular, in his deepest bass-baritone.

“What do you think our relationship is—our truest relationship?”

I didn’t want to answer that question, and Zeus knew that I didn’t want to answer it.

I escaped into the ritual language paradoxes that our priestesses are well known for. “Our relationship is the relationship that always is and always will be but never can be.”

Zeus lifted me into his chariot.

Persephone, I Know You're There

I heard Zeus’s voice.

“Persephone, I know you’re there.”

“Come out. I need to show you the new palaces we’re building on Mount Olympus.”

I was relieved. Zeus was not going to demand to come inside.

“I knew you’d be alone. I wanted to be with you. Hera has left me.”

Zeus stared at me. His glances penetrated me in places that even I couldn’t imagine. I wanted to create some distance between him and me.

“You know, Zeus, I’ve never known what to call you. You’re my uncle and my father—and now, since I’m married to your brother Hades, you’re even my brother-in-law.”

I Need to Deal with Things

I need to deal with things. And Zeus is at the door. What does he want? What could he want?

All of a sudden I felt regret. Where was Hera? Where had she gone? It was her job to put with Zeus, not mine. I wished that my mother—my lovely, loving mother—that Demeter had not gone out. For me not to answer the door and let Zeus in would be rude.

But did I want to face him? The problem with the imagination is that it is powerful. If I think something, it happens. I had just thought about usurping Hera and having Zeus and becoming the mistress of heaven….

But, now, DID I REALLY WANT THAT?

And, if I became mistress of heaven, what would Hades do? Would he become more and more melancholy in Hell once again and threaten to destroy everything or would he abduct me again? Perhaps he would do noting, concluding that infidelity and Hell were meant for each other.

I would be terribly disappointed if he didn’t leave his caverns to abduct me once again.

WHAT DID I WANT? My imagination was failing me. WHAT COULD I REALLY WANT?

I Find Myself Cursing the Rule of the Pomegranate Seeds

When I first arrive up above—after my six months with Hades—in Hell—the effect is kind of deadening. Almost like the door closing when someone puts you in jail.

Although I never admit what I’m thinking to anyone, I feel imprisoned when I’m up above. They have rules up there. You have to stay where you are. You cannot run away to the places that you can easily imagine. Reality appears to reign paramount. In short, you’re stuck.

I find myself cursing the rule of the pomegranate seeds: since Hades only let me have six, I have to spend six months away from him every year. It wasn’t my idea to go off with him, but having done it, why do I have to come back to everyone up above? I know that Mother told me I would lose my power if I always stayed down in Hell, but I still don’t like it.

How Could I Find Out What I Needed to Know?

I sang the words softly,“Open the envelope and sing in soft tones the message that you are about to deliver to me,” and the messenger responded earnestly, reading every word that Hera had written:

To our Persephone
Goddess of Desire and Imagination
I regret to inform you that
We must defer
The inaugural meeting for
The Center for the Propagation of Happiness
In my unhappiness
I have been called off to a quest
And I will be in touch when I return.
Your loving aunt, stepmother, and fellow divinity,
Hera

What was this all about? Why was Hera finally admitting to her unhappiness and where was she going?

When I looked up to stare at the messenger and to send a message back, he had disappeared, leaving the ripped open ornate ivory envelope to tantalize me with its mysteries.

How could I find out now what I needed to know?

The doorbell rang, and I knew it would be Zeus.

What Could the Message Be About?

The doorbell rang while I was meditating, and I was surprised to see a messenger—one of those young blond boys with winged slippers that helped them move rapidly through traffic.

After offering the messenger the ritual lemonade, I recited the usual passwords, and he presented me with a large vellum envelope. My name was written beautifully on it in a special calligraphy using rose gold as the ink.

The ritual messages aren’t delivered very often and one must follow the appropriate protocols and use the right words. What could the message be about? And who could it be from?

What I Really Want to Know

No wonder Hera is afraid of me—or at least not very nice to me. She—and my mother—didn’t really think through the consequences of setting me up to subdue Hades’ wrath.

If—as the imaginative creature that I am—I can triumph over Hades—or at least keep him calmed down so that he does not endanger everyone and everything—that makes me more powerful than all of the other Gods.

But what I really want to know is whether I am more powerful than Zeus. Could Zeus have subdued Hades without me? Or was I a wuenschmaedchen for Zeus—his veritable Brunnhilde? Was I the pure instrument of his will?

I decided that I really needed to know the answers to questions like these. And I still wanted to know why Hera had never had children.