Persephone and the Descent Into the Underworld
Homo sapiens have always been an evolving species, but what are we evolving into?
Humanity has always been on the brink of disaster, and we have always clawed our way back from the edge of annihilation. Sometimes, those forces are cosmic, as asteroids and comets regularly pommel our planet’s surface. Some impacts are insignificant, and others annihilate entire species. At other points, we’ve virtually eliminated ourselves, as we’ve waged wars for resources and honor. And at other points, our species has been virtually wiped out from invisible microbes plaguing entire continents, virtually emptying them in just a few years time.
And each time we survive a catastrophe, we reset, resolved to do things better the next time around. Our bodies and our DNA reveal the scars of these moments where humanity faced virtual annihilation—and yet, we survive. Some would even say that for some of us, we even thrive, in spite the planet we live on. And while the details may differ, we all share a dream of living on a world utterly at peace with the environment we’re currently inhabiting. In almost every culture, we humans once had this paradisaical Garden, lost it through sin, and are striving to prove ourselves worthy of redemption.
Whenever humans have faced annihilation, the gods have been there. Some times, they’re causing our imminent doom, either because we’re the objects of their wrath, or we’re simply caught in the middle of battles we can’t possibly understand. Often the gods intervene to save us, perhaps giving us gifts like fire to survive the long cold dark night. That’s a different story, for a different time. Our story is about one of the other gods. Her name is Demeter, and the ancient Greeks understood her to be a matronly goddess of harvests. They understood her to be the sacred feminine gifting us with agriculture, and by extension, the civilization needed to terraform the planet. Agriculture would enable surplus production, and, by extension, leisure. Demeter’s gift of agriculture promised to transform humanity from a species foraging on the earth, utterly dependent upon the immediate environment, victim to Nature’s utter unpredictability. Droughts lead to famine. Water becomes scarce. People die, and those who don’t, fight and kill. Humanity would build and grow, only to be cut down by a random asteroid that, had it entered the Earth’s atmosphere 0.00001 degree of trajectory off, would have skimmed the earth’s outer atmosphere and soar past on its way to obliterating another random planet in it’s path.
Demeter watched this happen, over, and over, and eventually, she took pity. These humans were relentless in their determination to survive. She admired our tenacity, and after a particularly brutal fungal infestation that virtually collapsed the entire food chain in what we now know as Anatolia, she taught the survivors which grains to breed with which to get the seeds that would produce the calories we would need to focus our time on something other than hunting and foraging for food. She taught them how to irrigate their newly cleared fields so that the seeds would grow into bountiful crops. She helped them understand which varieties would cross best with which to yield even greater harvest the following year. And, when no one was looking, she allowed the faery folk to dance in the field, spinning beautiful circular patterns in that could only be truly appreciated by the gods above. The humans may not have been able to see the intricate designs, but they loved the energy boost that these irradiated seeds held as they were more fruitful than the seeds the faeries left alone.
And when the humans waited for the seeds to sprout and grow, Demeter helped them understand which animals would allow themselves to be domesticated. She helped them design breeding pens so that instead of risking their lives hunting viscous and unpredictable beasts, humans could simply choose the fattest and most delicious for slaughter. Demeter shared some of her knowledge with us, and in the process, she transformed us. We were no longer a species constantly in danger of annihilation. Disasters will strike, and people will die on horrific scales. But, Demeter gave us the gift of civilization. We now have the ability to at least contemplate what our species preservation might look like. We might not have anything else, but we at least know that it will happen again, and Demeter will be with us.
And so it came to pass that humanity, once huddled into a tight mass to fight off impending doom came to dominate the Earth. With Demeter’s help, humanity tamed Nature. Humans no longer wondered where their next meal was coming from. We had surplus and storage and would never know hunger again.
And when humans aren’t hungry…they don’t innovate.
When we aren’t challenged, we grow soft.
When we grow comfortable, we grow weak.
And when we’re no longer fighting for survival, we forget how to live.
Persephone knew this, even if she wasn’t able to articulate it at first. It began as a restlessness, an unexplained sense of anxiety that crept in when silence threatened to become deafening. Persephone was the most gifted of Demeter’s pupils. Thanks to her direction and the gardens she designed, people grew ever softer and more content. no one would ever want to go back to the starving times, the dying times, the times when everything felt like it was collapsing in on top of them. No one wanted to back, but some, like Persephone, felt the loss. They could sense that humans were no longer threatened daily with extinction, and this security was making them all dull and listless.
When humans no longer fear death, they forget how to live.
These were some of the things Persephone pondered while standing at the brink of a massive chasm that had just opened up before her. She had been standing in a field of wildflowers when the ground beneath rumbled and roared and split open, a rift widening in the ground, zigzagging across the landscape. Persephone walked to the edge and knelt down, gazing into the newly opened abyss stretching out in front of her. She peered into the darkness, looking for some form or shape to prove that there was actually something there. She did not see anything, at first, but she heard it. The voice was crisp, and clear even if she could not tell precisely where it was coming from. It was a very cold voice that said,
“The answers you’re looking for are but a single step away. If you want to learn the Truth, Come.”
Persephone looked at the verdant fields behind her, and the gaping blackness in front of her, thinking deeply about the past and every struggle they’ve overcome to get to where they are. They’ve lost so many; suffered so much…and for what? So that they could now grow fat and lazy as they bend the earth to their will and subjugate everything before them. Was there truly nothing more but to eat and fuck and eat some more?
She stared into the darkness, and then, she took a leap.
To be continued…