THE HERMIT or Why Am I Dressed All in Burlap and Where Have My Shoes Gone?
#soultarotchallenge Day 7- Q: What is showing up as a refuge for me? A: THE HERMIT- I think about The Hermit as being like The Fool that’s doing some hardcore adulting. Where The Fool starts out and is like: “Everything is so cool! I can just step off this cliff and just totally merge with how amazing life is and now I’m at this wicked cool festy and everything’s like so great!”
The Hermit is more of a wizened jungle ninja who has done like 3 tours of duty already and is kinda over the bullshit. The glamour and new car smell of a new life has been replaced by a handmade burlap robe and an aversion to shoes. All that he’s left with is himself and a janky lantern to light his way. Instead of the wild excitement of being able to go anywhere, The Hermit is alone on a snowy mountain with nothing but the clothes on his back being like, “Oh yeah, I choose this.”
I’m not on a mountain and I definitely haven’t make a wizard cloak, yet, but as a refuge I resonate with this mystic home bum. Being out in the desert, with no idea of what I’m doing, I find that most of the distractions and trappings of travel and life have been stripped away, and I’m left with only myself standing starkly in a landscape where “Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes.”
It’s actually not that bad, but it’s just me waiting for the path to reveal it’s self or for something to shift. In this refuge I’m captivated by the lantern light which is the only thing that shows the way. Here, where I’m waiting for Gadot or for the Netflix to load I’m reminded of something a wise woman once told me. She talked about driving on a dark desert highway with the cool wind in her hair. She told me about how the headlights only illuminate so much of the road but we are never afraid of out running them. We constantly trust that those headlights will show just enough for us to get where we are going. She told me life was like that, and out here in my refuge by the dim light of my Hermit lamp I can learn to trust that the path will reveal itself a little bit at a time. Or at lest just enough for right now.