What I’ve Learned From Hiding
Last April, while sitting at the tea shop in my neighborhood, I noticed that on the other side of the room, someone was giving a Tarot reading. Generally, the images of the Tarot show up in my dreams (I’ve had detailed readings multiple times in that realm, no kidding.) so I’m not usually one to seek readings out in waking life. This time around, however, something told me that I should stay, and once the reader is finished with their current queriant, I’d introduce myself and ask them if they had time for another. Nerves cast aside, my curiousity guided me to cards that were as follows: The Hermit, the four of pentacles, the two of swords, and The Magician.
One thing that has stood out to me about the whole experience was the conversation surrounding The Hermit. I had felt deeply lonely at the time, and was carrying that feeling for a good while; I found myself still stumbling through a long-felt broken heart, I was navigating the balance in living alone, and was struggling to find my footing relating to attaining certain goals and desired experiences. I had expressed this, and the reader responded by telling me that they felt an intuitive nudge that I would continue to walk though this for a bit longer. Great.
This proved true, and although I’m looking forward to having more quality connection with others, I’ve discovered and become more of myself. With outside voices limited, I was left with my own thoughts- for better or for worse. To have sat with none but my own company for as often as I have, I’ve gained a level of self knowledge that I humbly prize. I have absolutely not arrived at any mythic transcendent point, and even if I had, I am still a mortal in flesh, and if transcendence leads anywhere, it’s to the knowledge that one is not worth more or less than anyone else, but I digress.
In this Hermitesque period, realizations have abounded about a number of issues that have been holding me back. An important one that I’d like to air: shame,
shame and perfectionism combined.
A nasty brew of murky illusion, these two. I think perfectionism is born of shame, and ironically it creates a sort of prideful desire to always be seen as winning, gaining, accomplishing. Being ever beautiful, ever skillful, ever impressive.
So much of my energy was spent wanting to prove certain people from my past wrong, even if these people are not currently in my life, and/or did not necessarily have my best interests in mind. As a result of the shame and perfectionism, I never felt “ready” or “good enough.” I was bitterly waiting until I had a nicer looking apartment, achieved certain goals, learned new information, and looked a specific way, all while worrying about their potential opinions. I’m too tacky, too quiet, too goofy or not funny at all, interested in weird things, terrible at everything. However, upon reflecting back, I discovered that many of these people who were hard on me or bullied me or put me down were jealous. I possess qualities, abilities, etc. that they found threatening, and in their smallness, they tried to make me feel small. This is not meant to be a loud proclamation of my superiority. I happen to know envy and jealousy well. I have felt it within myself. It’s a seething possession, a lecharous cloak that weighs the spirit down.
It seems old hat on the surface, this concept that has been parced countless times before, but there is genuinely a near universal reality of moving through life with one’s true self under threat. This shows up in many forms, each with varying degrees of nefariousness. Naysayers, haters, frenemies, and manipulative authoritarians alike are such examples. I’ve allowed my inner perfectionist critic to berate me, plunging me further into illusory shame, and further away from the light that I posess that these very people were threatened by in the first place.
Tarotist and author Rachel Pollack writes in Seventy-eight Degrees of Wisdom, that The Hermit represents “a withdrawal from the outer world for the purpose of activating the unconscious mind,” and, “the card carries within it a sense of deliberate purpose, of withdrawing to work on self-development. In connection with this sense of purpose and with the picture of an old man the card symbolizes maturity, and a knowledge of what really matters in a person’s life.” This I have been granted, and will continue to grow further into as the years pass.
As for the other cards: the four of pentacles, the two of swords, and The Magician, they’ve been incredibly helpful supplementary information for how to come out of hiding and step into creative efficiency (The Magician). Many nuanced considerations related to resources and intellectual decisions were required in order to obtain balance between knowing myself and putting that authenticity forward.
I still feel heavy into Hermit Mode, but the richness of connection is ever present, and the connection that waits for me in the future is on the other side of my own confident, healthy pride in the heart that I’ve been given, in the heart that I have learned to honor as a friend.
I know what this heart beats for, and its purpose is worth sharing. This is what I’ve learned from hiding.
