The Professor and the High Priestess
The young professor had always been a seeker, though he would never admit it. At 6’3”, conventionally attractive, Swiss-born with a PhD earned at Yale University, and now working at The University of Cambridge, he carried the veneer of a man who had it all. But beneath his achievements lay a restless spirit, drawn to the unconventional, the exploratory, the boundaryless.
It was during a solo trip to Mexico that he first met her – the Yoruba high priestess. Their initial connection happened in the waters of Mexico, a chance meeting that felt otherworldly. They swam together, their limbs tangling as though they had known each other for lifetimes. From that moment, they became inseparable, at least for the remainder of his trip.
The high priestess was unlike anyone he had met before. She carried herself with an aura of conviction and spirituality that transcended the material world. A practitioner of Yoruba traditions, she blended mysticism with practicality, her life dedicated to healing and guiding others. He was intrigued by her self-assuredness, her unapologetic eccentricity.
A Complicated Connection
Their relationship evolved into a long-distance one, marked by intensity and unpredictability. She flew to England to visit him, walking the hallowed grounds of The University of Cambridge, where his academic persona reigned supreme. She seemed out of place among the spires and cobblestones, yet her presence brought colour and chaos to his otherwise orderly life.
That summer, she invited him to a Yoruba spirituality retreat she was hosting in Albania. Intrigued by her world but hesitant to commit fully, he agreed to go.
The Fire, the Mountain, and the Psychedelics
The Albanian retreat was no mere vacation; it was an immersion into another dimension. The high priestess believed in using tools like psychedelic medicines – mushrooms, specifically – to strip away ego and bring clarity. The retreat was a test of endurance, vulnerability, and self-discovery.
On one night, he was paired with another guest at the retreat, to tend to the fire, a central ritual symbolising transformation and continuity. They were instructed to work in silence, keeping the fire alive through the night.
At first, the silence was unbearable. His thoughts raced; about his academic work, his relationships, and the privileges he both carried and resented. But as the mushrooms took effect, his perception shifted. The fire wasn’t just a fire anymore; it pulsed, breathed, and seemed to hold the answers to questions he hadn’t dared to ask.
Around him, others climbed the nearby mountain for vision quests, seeking revelations from the stars above. He stayed by the fire, watching his fire partner’s movements feed the flames.
The retreat also introduced him to moments of pure joy. He remembered playing acro yoga with a little girl, the daughter of instructors at the retreat. Her giggles echoed in his mind, stirring an unfamiliar longing for something deeper, something lasting.
The Vision and the Rift
After Albania, he thought their relationship would settle into a quieter rhythm. But one evening, while attending an academic conference at Yale, she called him with a familiar urgency.
“I had another vision,” she said. Her voice carried the weight of certainty. “We are destined to be together. I saw us with children, building a life that will transform the world. We will make money together, create something extraordinary.”
He hesitated. “I don’t see that future,” he finally admitted.
Her response was immediate and fierce. She cursed him… spiritually, emotionally, leaving no part of his character unscathed. Her words lingered even after the call ended, sharp and unyielding.
The Void
Returning to Cambridge was like stepping into a void. The quiet predictability of academia was both comforting and suffocating. Without her, his life felt like a neatly packaged box, structured but devoid of spark..
He missed the chaos she brought, the way she pushed him to question everything he thought he knew. He thought of Albania, of the fire, of the little girl’s laughter during acro yoga. For the first time, he considered what it might mean to have children, to create a legacy beyond his academic work.
And yet, when he thought of her, he knew he didn’t want the life she envisioned. What he missed was the validation she had offered; the way she made him feel larger than life, even when he doubted himself.
He thought about reaching out, perhaps offering her a breadcrumb of hope. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t her he wanted. It was the reflection of himself she had offered, the way her obsession had made him feel irreplaceable.
For now, he chose silence, staring out the window of his Cambridge office, wondering how long he could keep the void at bay.
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How do we discern between genuine connection and the subtle need for validation?
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