The High Priestess Upright: The High Priestess on our card is—who else?—the pythia at Delphi.  The greatest of the ancient Greek oracles, the pythia was believed to speak for Apollo himself (something that should have made anyone who knew the capricious god’s reputation worry more than it apparently did).  Nonetheless, her advice was sought by everyone from commoners to kings, with the rare few who gained an audience subject to her quirky sense of humor.
A famous example is the advice given to Croesus, king of Lydia.  In 550 BC, Croesus, whose wealth had allowed him to build a whopping big army, was contemplating invading the nearby Persian Empire.  He decided to check his chances of success with the pythia before doing so, however, as the Persians tended to be testy. The pythia accepted the huge gift of gold and cattle he sent and Croesus got his prophecy: “If you attack Persia, you will destroy a great empire.” The confident king promptly invaded, only to get his butt seriously kicked. After the Persians defeated his army, invaded Lydia and captured him, a very pissed off Croesus sent his chains to Delphi.  He demanded to know why the pythia had lied to him.  She responded that she hadn’t: Croesus had destroyed a great empire, just as she had prophesied–his own.
The female counterpart to the Magician card, the High Priestess always knows more than she’s telling.  Just as Croesus needed to look a little more carefully at the seemingly positive prediction he received, you might want to look beyond the obvious now.  Don’t accept the surface situation, dig for the hidden meaning or you’re doomed to do a Croesus.

The High Priestess Reversed: The Pythia, the lady on our card, prophesied at the ancient temple of Delphi.  Considered the center of the world by the ancient Greeks, it was lavished with gifts by every city state.  The bigger ones built huge treasuries to hold their offerings while the poorer ones erected statues along the roadside leading up to the temple.  The glitter of gold and the shine of marble must have been almost blinding under the bright Mediterranean sun.  So much so that most of the petitioners arriving to seek hidden truths about their futures probably missed the two small words carved over the temple doors: “Know Thyself.”  But the High Priestess reversed doesn’t allow you that luxury.  She points to those words every time you ask her anything.  Unlike her upright position, which warns of hidden knowledge that could bite you, reversed the issue is less about what you know than what you allow yourself to know.  We all convince ourselves at one point or another that what we want to be the case is true.  But there’s always some little, nagging inner voice ruining the happy illusion.  If he doesn’t call, it isn’t because the telephone was disconnected.  If she never asks about you, it isn’t because she’s too shy.  The High Priestess reversed isn’t keeping any secrets from you—she doesn’t have to, since you’re already doing that yourself.  You don’t need extra knowledge now, you just have to open your eyes to see what’s real.