I first heard about The Temple of Apollo at Delphi watching Joanna Lumley on TV trekking through Greece years back. Delphi was a sanctuary dedicated to Apollo the god of Sun and where the Greeks came to honour their god and consult the Oracle (an enlightened high priestess). Joanna visited the site and I recall there being a temple with the inscription “γνῶθι σεαυτόν” (Know Thyself) on the entrance, the explanation being that only those who had truly found themselves could pass through. I didn’t take it in consciously at the time, but in the years that followed the idea of being able to enter that temple legitimately kept coming back to me. As each year passed I would ask myself “is this the year for the temple”? And usually I would answer “not this year, maybe next…”.

In all my reading over the last few years around self-discovery, time and time again self-awareness is called out as the foundation of everything. In the business world where you are invited to move from ‘unconsciously incompetent’ to ‘consciously incompetent’, eventually arriving at ‘unconsciously competent’. And in the mindfulness movement where you observe your experience in the moment, allowing it to be just as it is, and in doing so cultivate self-awareness. Knowing yourself is the starting point. From there you can work on acceptance, love, gratitude and all the things that can move you into a better relationship with yourself and those around you. But until you can see yourself, just as you are, you can’t start to work with yourself.

In the Greek world Knowing Thyself is seen as the beginning of all wisdom.

Socrates claimed that “the unexamined life is not worth living” and these days self-discovery is an industry in itself. I find it fascinating how this ancient civilisation already had it worked out. How are we returning to similar thought leadership today, when it was first being explored back in times of antiquity? My travels to Greece were, in part, an attempt to explore that idea.

The fact that I had been putting off going to Delphi for so long meant that the temple soon acquired sacred status. There are a few of these places on my travel bucket list and soon the idea of undertaking pilgrimages became part of my approach to tackling my demons. So, when my summer plans started to take their post-it noted shape, it became quite clear that I might need to suck it up and accept that Delphi was imminent. I was going to Europe, and I was starting in Greece. There was a lot of inner work to do before then. Would I be ready to walk up to and through those columns?

Landing in Athens a sense of freedom descended. I’d been so focused on extricating myself from life (leaving work, packing up my flat, tying up my lifemin) I hadn’t really thought much about the trip. Usually my travels are planned to the enth, this time I didn’t even have a plan of how to get from the airport to my accommodation! I did know I was going to Delphi though, and lo and behold 2 days later I found myself on a coach weaving its way through the mountainous Greek countryside.

Delphi sat quietly nestled between steep cliff faces and olive groves. Striding up the steps carved into the steep slopes of the sanctuary I felt strong. Ideas were coming. Things I wanted to write about. Essays inside that wanted out. Subjects I wanted to explore further, philosophical and scientific. My brain was waking and asking to be fed. And this was after limited sleep from dancing into the early hours with some new friends I’d made in my hostel. What could it do with a fresh head and generous stimulation? I felt optimistic about what I could go on to achieve and the treasures Delphi might reveal.

But, as I walked around the site there was no lightning bolt. After all this time! I questioned myself. Did I get it wrong? And where was the inscription? Where was the magical entrance I was finally about to pass through? It didn’t feel right. No sense of personal discovery just from being there. I asked our guide about the columns. Where were they? It turned out, they were never there, or rather they were back in the BC day, but they fell into ruin a very long time.

Somewhat confused, I turned to Google. The modern day Oracle. 

It turns out what I had visualised wasn’t the entrance but another site, some 30 minute-walk away. And our bus wasn’t going to wait for me if I took the walk. I joined the museum tour to mull over my options. Take the walk and be stranded in the middle of ancient Greek nowhere, or join my fellow tourists for a tacky snack somewhere and a ride home? Well I guess at least I was going to get lunch.

The museum was surprisingly interesting (I’m not a big museum fan, preferring to soak up atmospheres and vibes than stare at the glass-cased remnants of a water vase. Philistine I know). Having said that, as I entered a room I was drawn to two statues of young Greeks, bearing what was described as an “archaic smile”. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from their ironic upturned mouths. Their ancient stone smiles representing the optimism of youth. I felt a kinship with them. I’ve had people comment on my youthful energy (I think you would agree the term ‘youth’ is a stretch when you’re in your late 30s) and while I always thought they were mistakenly labelling immaturity & naivety, and what I saw as negative traits, maybe there was a gift there that I needed to appreciate. A starting point in self-awareness is to accept what is within us, eventually leading us to appreciate it.

Maybe there was some treasure on offer here at Delphi.

I came around from my archaic daydream to find our guide talking about the gods Apollo and Dionysus. They are symbolic opposites. Apollo, the light, the rational, the reason. Dionysus, the darkness, the irrational, the ecstasty. Polar opposites, yet inseparable. And today’s New Age chatter often speaks of embracing your shadow self. Those ancient Greeks really did get there first, appreciating the need to celebrate the light and dark within us. Perhaps the light is dark and the dark is light. Certainly, they can only exist in relation to one another. I remember reading that your greatest strength, when flexed to its most extreme, can become your greatest weakness. The rule will clearly hold true in reverse. Maybe my immaturity & naivety is what gives me my energy and optimism. Still no lightning bolt, but another useful nugget on the journey to ‘knowing thyself’ nonetheless.

Lunch turned out to be a pleasant opportunity to swap travel stories over a baked aubergine and a lot of dry bread. On our way back to Athens the bus pulled up outside a souvenir shop. You can’t beat the old sales trick of a captive customer who feels obliged to make a purchase in return for a toilet stop. How many times in the past I’ve visited this shop I thought with rolling eyes, yet I hopped off the bus to have a nose around, to pass the time if nothing else.

The shop really was quite tatty. Full of some very random finds and loud t-shirts. This was just going to be a toilet stop I decided. However, as I walked along something caught my eye. Called back to take a closer look I turned to find a row of little bronze owls with blue eyes perched on the shelf. Not particularly elegant, but sweet enough. What was it about this little owl? And why was it calling out to me? Then it hit me. This was my spirit animal. It was the exact face of my owl. The one who came to me every time I summoned him. As I looked up and around me, there were owls everywhere. On pretty much every item in the shop. I paid, pocketed my little feathery friend and went up to my guide. “Is the owl significant? It’s on everything”. It turns out that yes, it is. The owl is the symbol of the goddess Athena, the namesake of Athens. The place I chose to start my trip.

Athens was never a place I felt the need to visit.

When I decided to go away this summer all I knew was that I wanted to visit an island in Greece, that I would need to stop in Athens on my way and that I could visit Delphi from there. Athens was not the main event. Apollo’s temple, that was the place that was supposed to provide the answers. Yet here I was in a random souvenir shop having a true moment of enlightenment holding a bronzed owl.

Athena’s ‘all-seeing’ owl symbolises ‘the wisdom’. My owl. The one that is with me at all times when I need it. I didn’t need to travel to Delphi and pass through those columns. What I was looking for was with me all along. I just needed to trust that I knew myself enough and that the lessons I need to learn will appear as I go, just as they had been all day.

And in that moment, I smiled. Got me again Universe. Delphi was never going to be the lesson, the journey there was. It was so obvious. As the simplest of truths often are. Every moment offers a lesson to learn about yourself. The Greeks knew that. They knew that self-discovery was a lifetimes work but also to be humble and accept that you are still learning as you go. Know Thyself, was as much a reminder of humility as a quest for one’s life journey. And I was at the start of a journey this summer. If my first stop had already revealed this much, what lay ahead? I was genuinely excited to get to my Greek island and uncover its secrets.