Arahova at Delphi~ Travelin' Tuesday

Today's photo was taken in a small, mountain village (Arahova) near Delphi, my favorite Greek archaeological site which can be seen here. Greece is sprinkled with these gorgeous old fountains sometimes well-kept, like this one, and sometimes they are remnants of the Turk's stay in Greece and ignored, abandoned and defaced.



Random Writing Prompt:

Create a story around the owner of the mop you see leaning inside the fountain. Is the owner male or female? Young or elderly? Cleaning the fountain? Their own home? Or working for someone else? Or... does it have certain traveling powers?

Return to Delphi~ Travelin' Tuesday

Delphi (like Pompeii for me)

was a place I'd heard of all my life

but in the rather limited opportunities of my childhood

never thought I'd truly see.

A couple of years ago,

while touring several of the Greek ruins,

'The Chef' and I made a trip to the small town of Arahova

where I was able to fulfill a lifelong quest

of walking the ancient stones of Delphi.

While the entire ruin is a mesmerizing

portal to the ancient world,

I wasn't quite prepared for its stunning location

and breathtaking surroundings

with its long, expansive mountainous views.

Many of Greece's ruins are on easy-to-reach flatgrounds.

But Delphi, with its standing columns and fluttering wildflowers

of deep, blood red and mischevious yellow,

sleeps on the side of a sacred mountain.

The columns below are the ruins of the

Temple dedicated to Apollo

where it's said the Pythia inhaled vapors from a fissure,

went into a trance and whose prophesies

were most likely translated by priests.

One guess over time

is that the ground fault fissures emanated an ethylene gas

that was responsible for the priestesses altered states.

Carved into the temple walls were 3 phrases

(attributed to a few of the Seven Sages of Greece--

6th Century wise men before Plato's time):

"Know Thyself"

"Nothing to Excess"

And the last: "Make a pledge and mischief is nigh".

One can't help but wonder what the many travelers to its site

must have said to themselves after crossing the world or its oceans

upon finally reaching the foot of Mount Parnassus:

"Really? All this way and now...up there? Really??"

It took me decades to finally make my way here

and while I went by plane, boat and car (the fairly easy, modern way)

it's not hard to see once here why seekers would traverse the world over

for a glimpse into this glorious present (of any century)

and the ever-elusive future.

(All photographs copyright: Kirsten Steen)

Delphi~ Travelin' Tuesday

Back to our Greece Tour~

Welcome to The Oracle at Delphi!

...Located on the slopes of Mt. Parnassus,

a mountain sacred to Apollo

and home to the Muses.

Seen here (in the work of an anonymous Athenian painter)

crowned in a wreath of myrtle leaves and offering wine as libation,

Apollo was considered the prophet of the Oracle

and the patron god of poetry and music.




It's said that Apollo spoke through the Oracle

by way of a priestess called the Pythia,

an older woman chosen for her purity and good character.

People came from all over the world
to consult the Oracle
on matters ranging from public policy to personal issues.




Myth has it that, up here on the side of this mountain overlooking olive groves,

while holding a laurel branch and holy water from a nearby stream,

she was seated over a fissure and inhaled vapors emitted

from the decomposing body of a python serpent once killed by Apollo.

In busy times, as many as three priestesses might be needed

to attend to the many seekers and their questions

from the highest-ranking policymakers regarding polis issues

to the lowliest peasant requesting guidance in love.

Love is a most frightening thing, for all of us.

I have great mountains of respect for those who are willing
to share honestly of themselves,

regardless of their fear, courageous without walls,

to make themselves vulnerable and thus reach ever-higher states of love.

So in honor of the Oracle

(just in case you had questions about love)
and the god of poetry and leader of the Muses,

I offer a piece of poetry

from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.

On Love:

"When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you
so shall he crucify you.

Even as he is for your growth
so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses
your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots
and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn
he gathers you unto himself.

He threshes you to make you naked.

He sifts you to free you from your husks.

He grinds you to whiteness.

He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire,
that you may become sacred bread
for God's sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge
become a fragment of Life's heart.

But if in your fear you would seek
only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness
and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh,
but not all of your laughter, and weep,
but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself
and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not
nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say,
"God is in my heart," but rather,
"I am in the heart of God."

And think not you can direct the course of love,
for love, if it finds you worthy,
directs your course.

Love has no other desire
but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires,
let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook
that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart
and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour
and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart

and a song of praise upon your lips."

Stay tuned next week to continue

our tour of Delphi.

(All photos copyright: Kirsten Steen)