The bus ambles along the winding road, the smog of Athens fading in the rear view. We pass through timeless villages, stretches of olive groves and jagged rocky outcrops. The Sanctuary of Delphi lies ahead, nestled upon the slopes of Mount Parnassus. The Greeks believed it to be the centre of the world; the omphalos, or navel. For thousands of years, people travelled here for an audience with the Oracle, who channeled prophecies direct from the Gods themselves.
There’s a spirit to Delphi; something magical about it. When I visited almost 15 years ago, it was palpable and obvious even then. As if the Gods are close by, listening. I hope they are now. I meander slowly along The Sacred Way, pace the Temple of Apollo’s perimeter, and wash and drink from the Kastilian Spring, in line with traditional rights of passage. Waiting for answers that do not arrive.
Delphic prophecies however, rarely gave straight answers. They were usually cryptic and ambiguous. And attempting to make sense of them was dangerous. King Croesus, writes Herodotus, brought destruction to his own empire after receiving his prophecy, heeding not what was true, but only what he wanted to. Prophecy intended to direct one’s attention to what a seeker did not know, rather than what s/he already did. It indicated where there was work to be done, rather than confirm a bias, promise to solve problems or bestow wisdom that had not yet been earned. It was hubris to expect otherwise.
The ancients understood the old truism: it was not the destination but the journey; that real insight was found in the pilgrimage, not the prophecy. It was realised in the walking; in the doing; in the process; and in the practice. Pilgrims didn’t travel in air-conditioned buses, with a stop-over at the local cafe for a coffee and pastry. Rather, they endured an arduous and perilous trek on foot from Athens and elsewhere in Greece. This undertaking was not just physical, and in this sense, the “spiritual” journey began well before The Sacred Way – the road which snakes its way through the Sanctuary of Delphi to the Temple of Apollo – and continued well beyond one’s audience with the Oracle. It was in this effort that they were preparing to receive. For a prophecy was earned, not given; an acknowledgement of commitment, and a recognition of who one became because of it.
Not receiving what I wanted had been precisely what I needed. For I had not yet deserved it, and in turn, this re-directed me towards a journey to be had. In the months since, I have learned of my tendency to offload responsibility, an unwillingness to make decisions, and an immature hope for someone (or some thing) to set the course of my life for me. I don’t anymore. Whether this realisation was Delphic insight, or simply overthinking; a commitment to the journey, or a sojourn along The Sacred Way, I feel wiser in knowing so. And maybe that’s all that matters – for a prophecy or pilgrimage to be fulfilled.
CHANGE IS THE POINT 