The Oracle

I imagine that we have all, at some point in time, wished for a clear message about what next steps we should take. Should I change jobs? Is this ‘the one’ I should marry? How many children should I have? When is the best time to retire? Where should I go to college? We may ask for a sign, and we may actually receive one if God or the Universe deems it. We may ask someone we trust just to tell us what to do.

In Ancient Greece and the surrounding areas, oracles were consulted by the people to help them determine next steps. There were many such places in the ancient world, but the most famous was the Oracle at Delphi on the southern slope of Mount Parnassus on mainland Greece. Here, pilgrims would make their way up the mountain from the Gulf of Corinth bearing a question for the Oracle. All types of people would make the pilgrimage—from aristocracy to commoner, male and female.

We don’t know for sure, but most sources say that the Oracle in classical Greece was a virgin of about fifty years old. She would sit in a cauldron atop a tripod inside the temple of Apollo. The tripod was situated over a cleft in the mountain, probably from an earthquake, where noxious fumes would rise. A supplicant would ask their question, and the fumes, maybe nitrous oxide, would cause the Oracle to fall into a trance and begin spouting nonsensical, mystical words. Male priests would then translate her utterances for the pilgrim.

The answers were always ambiguous, as most truth sayer responses are. There are stories about pilgrims taking the oracle’s response to mean what they themselves wanted it to mean, with disastrous results.

When our group of twenty pilgrims made preparations to travel to Delphi, we were instructed, if we wanted, to bring a question of our own to the place where the Oracle would have been. The site was imbued with a sense of awe and holiness as we approached the ruins of the temple entrance. Then one by one, as the rest of us held space for the individual, one of us stepped to the entrance of the temple, and in varying forms of prayer, silently asked our question, then waited for a response. Some stood with arms upraised. Others knelt. One prostrated himself directly on the ramp leading into the temple.

I was led to sway back and forth, shifting my weight rapidly from one foot to the other in a dance of sorts, chanting to myself in time with my movement, “Should I? Should I? Should I…?” I then gradually lifted my arms as I asked my question. When I knew it was time to stop my dance to listen for the answer, I dropped my arms and held my palms upward to receive.

I am unwilling to tell you what my question was, but my “should I…?” was a ‘yes or no’ question. But I don’t mind telling you that the response I got was, “You will know.” Ambiguous much?

But I wasn’t surprised. Most often, I DO know. Eventually. My inner knowing is usually right, if I take the time to stop and listen to it. The answer is within myself. Everything I need is already there. And I suspect that’s what the Oracle of Delphi imparted to pilgrims long ago as well with their roundabout responses, leading the individual to puzzle it out on their own.

The very act of bringing a question to Delphi was deliberate. I could have asked myself, or trusted sources, my question here at home. But making a deliberate journey to this site gifted me with a presence I wouldn’t have normally had. Because I had the focus and intention and expectation, I could dance as I asked and receive the answer in quiet knowing.

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