
The Bhagavad Gita, a guiding text for yogis, teaches us to let go of the ego and release attachments to achieve illumination. At first glance, this path may seem impossibly steep. You might wonder if the effort is worth it, but the transformation that follows is profound. Today, I want to share the story of Dionysus, a devotee who endured incredible trials on his journey to freedom and spiritual illumination.
Dionysus was born into an evangelical, impoverished family in the middle of nowhere during Brazil’s military dictatorship. Sensitive and deeply in love with truth, honesty, simplicity, and loyalty, he stood out in stark contrast to his deceitful, cruel, and hypocritical family. From the very beginning, his life was a struggle. His parents rejected him at birth because he was a boy, not the girl they had hoped for. They beat, scorned, and humiliated him without cause, forcing him to work on plantations from the tender age of six. They never bought him clothes, books, or notebooks, and by the time he was eleven, he had to quit school simply because he had nothing to wear.
Despite enduring constant abuse, Dionysus’s heart held an unwavering hope. He daydreamed of a loving family, worked tirelessly to earn their admiration, and even unconsciously developed his feminine side, perhaps hoping it might bridge the emotional chasm between them. But nothing he did softened their hearts. His family despised him even more for his homosexuality, mocking him relentlessly while exploiting his loyalty and love.
At sixteen, his parents sent him away with no money or support. Remarkably, Dionysus did not harbor resentment. Instead, he felt a strange sense of liberation. Moving to a big city, he worked hard, resumed his studies, climbed the career ladder, and became a successful businessman. Yet, despite his achievements, he never gave up on his family. When they realized he had money, they came back into his life, exploiting his generosity. His mother, in particular, would put on theatrical displays to manipulate him into giving her financial support. Dionysus, yearning for their approval, willingly gave, hoping it would finally earn their love.
The more he gave, the more they exploited him. They feigned affection and plotted to claim his wealth. At one point, his mother cursed him because he refused to buy her a new car, an incident that stuck in his mind as a painful wake-up call. Even more disturbingly, she once tried to choke him while he was recovering from surgery, an act interrupted only by a nurse entering the room. Though shocked, Dionysus suppressed the memory, convincing himself it hadn’t happened.
But the darkness didn’t stop there. Years later, his mother, along with two other family members, killed a baby girl in a demonic ritual, offering the infant’s heart in prayer for Dionysus’s death. Obsessed with his destruction, she spread slander about him, hoping someone would hate him enough to kill him. Dionysus saw these horrors but remained paralyzed, torn between his love for them and the undeniable truth of their malice.
Eventually, the situation became unbearable. Dionysus finally confronted his family and walked away, this time for good. He left behind guilt, fear, and desperation, realizing that his happiness and success depended solely on him. But the journey was not without immense cost. He lost his fortune, his health—even his sense of self. Diagnosed with terminal liver cancer, he defied the odds and survived, but the physical and emotional scars ran deep.
Dionysus retreated into isolation, dedicating himself to yoga, meditation, prayer, and introspection. The healing process was agonizing. Shy, fragile, and scared, he faced the painful truth of his life: his attachment to the idea of a loving family had kept him bound to suffering. He realized that his mother’s cruelty, though devastating, had been a divine instrument to help him break free from this illusion. Forgiving her was one of the hardest things he ever did, but it was essential for his liberation.
Some might see Dionysus’s story as unjust, wondering why God allowed such pain in the life of a devout man. But Dionysus was an old soul. His attachment to family had likely spanned lifetimes, and God’s decisive intervention—though excruciating—was like a surgeon’s scalpel, cutting away the chains that bound him. Painful? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely.
Through all his trials, Dionysus’s life was rich with meaning, miracles, joy, and growth. He was given everything he needed to overcome attachments, illusions and desires, the only way to reunite with the infinite spirit—God, Brahman, the Divine.
Every trial is a teacher. If you’re in pain, ask yourself: What is this trying to teach me? What do I need to let go of? The answers may require you to abandon old habits, change your perspective, or embrace the unfamiliar. But when you do, you’ll find the freedom and peace you’ve been seeking.
