Sibyl Wayward

Oh, good. There you are. Right on time. That’s quite a future you’ve been having!

Who am I, you may ask? Of course you do.

I have as many names as I have hats, and I have as many hats as Medusa has heads.

I’ve been called the Oracle of the Ouroborus, the Mistress of Misfortune, the Diva of Divination.

Some claim I am a vision of the future. Others say I am merely a mirror of the past.

Some say I am the fabric of space and time, itself. Others say that I am only the weaver of a fabulous tapestry.

Some think I am the deck, others that I’m the dealer. Deal with it.

Who am I to say who I am? But, my friends call me Sybil Wayward, and you can, too.

Sybil Wayward, free-lance gyromancer and transcendental mediator. Charmed, I’m sure.

And you are? Oh? Are you sure?

You, yes. No, no, you. Yes, you!

Who are you? Are you your senses, the cells, fluids, and organs which substantiate your body, or the sense of self who fluidly organizes the substance of your story?

More significantly, why are you? That’s what we’re here to explore.

Perhaps, you’d like to try your hand at palmistry?

Good, now I have you in the palm of my hand. Or, am I in the palm of yours? Is there a difference? Hmm, let’s see.

Shh, I’m listening to the sound of one hand not clapping.

Do you hear it? Listen.

Can you hear the chorus of chirality, the symphony of synchronicity, syncopated sirens singing out your destiny across the landscape of your hand? Of course you can.

Now, follow any line, winding like a river from the sea of eternity to the delta of your final dawn. Now is forever slipping away, yet it clings to you, wherever you go, and wherever you go, you always seem, nevertheless, to still be here.

Here, take a card. No. Not that one. Nor that one. Here, take this one!

And what did you choose? Ah, The Fool! What a wise choice. The journey of a thousand smiles begins with an oblivious step over the edge of a cliff. Fool me once!

Let’s see, now what’s the next card? Ah, the Wheel of Fortune. How lucky for you! Go on, buy a vowel. We’re having a special on vowels. Two for one. Dipthongs for a song. No? Oh, well. The story of my lives. Always a day late and a doll hair short.

Huh? What’s that? Talk to the good eye, dearie.

Oh, you say the deck is stacked? Of course, the deck is always stacked. It’s the nature of a deck to be stacked. Destiny deals from the bottom. Fate’s an inside job.

Hmm, wonder what the next card will be? Of course! The World. Exactly as I promised. The whole World is in your hand!

The World, as you see, is flat. Two dimensions, length and breadth, with just a slice of height, as thin as an instant. And here are the four corners of the World, from whence they flock to hear my famous foretellings. It’s all very Sibyl.

Oh, the World is round, you say? Maybe so. Like this crystal ball? Yes, gaze into this crystal ball. You knew it would come to this.

Who do you see, staring back at you? Is it I? Is that I there when you aren’t looking? How can you see your own eye, anyway? Isn’t that a bit of a strange loop? The world’s just your mind, turned inside-out. See? There you are. And here as well.

What’s the point, you say? What’s the point of a sphere? Is the sphere itself a point? We’re each as small as this crystal ball, and each as expansive as the Universe itself, self-similar expressions of circumnavigating circumstance.

Confused? Excellent. Lost? Perfect. The future’s in the palm of your hand, and just beyond your grasp. Proceed. Go on, now! Destiny awaits!