I write to you from the other side.
I woke up the other day to a thirst for stillness, the call of solitude. I felt the pull and I surrendered, drawing away from social interaction, from conflict and even intimate touch. The things that usually inspire me don’t hold my attention, the horizon pales and I slip deeper into myself, away from others.
I don’t miss things, there’s no FOMO. I don’t care. A part of me feels like I should feel bad, tortured, despondent. But the other part of me knows this is where magic happens.
These periods of solitude are useful; they break way to growth like the ever so tacky butterfly metaphor. I just need to go with it, accept it and seek this time’s teaching as best I can until the light breaks again.
In tarot, this is 9th of the Major Arcana: The Hermit. Typically represented by an old dude’s night trek into darkness, lit only by a handheld lantern. He seeks truth, knowledge. He seeks more. Let’s notice that a lantern can only light what’s in arms length, suggesting that the answers he seeks, no matter where he ends up, was within reach all along.
But the dark is necessary, you see, to illuminate the truth right before your very self.
We all go through phases like this. When you see someone announce their exit from social media, for example, this is the period of The Hermit. They are over it. For a time.
Perhaps you have felt this at times in your life as well?
So here I am, The Hermit. For now. Life has called me to my lonesome spot.
I’ve learned to be here without hurting myself. Without panicking and making harsh choices, without resetting the path of my ambitions. And to fight the negative self talk that seems so much louder in silence. Though, this is something I have to fight constantly, a number of ways. The most useful of which is to recognize self talk as only symptoms of a phase I’m in and that in reality I’m doing just fine. I remember that I have to sit it out, trust the evolution of myself and the transitions in life and treat myself kindly in the meantime.