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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.
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