In My Hermit Era

Climbing the Mountain Alone

I’m thinking about The Hermit. You know, this bitch?

She’s here to say , “There is wisdom in solitude.” She shows up all “Hero’s Journey” vibes saying, “Grab your lantern, we’re going soul searching.” It makes me think of Eckhart Tolle’s concept of the “Dark Night of the Soul” which is a kind of Ego Death; it’s the overwhelming sensation of the vacancy of Self, where your internal structures fall out from under you like a trap door into Hell. But it’s not the fiery furnaces of Satan’s lair that welcome you after the fall; rather, you land on a bed of moss; and that moss is connected to a new kind of knowing. Am I getting too weird? I’ve had a lot of coffee and I’m getting my period which feels like how it looks to play the PC game “Roller Coaster Tycoon”: some entity is creating deadly loop-de-loops against my will, people are throwing up, etc. Wait, hold on, it’s just hitting me that we were all role playing as greedy corporate amusement park owners. I thought I was an engineer, an artist, a creator. Capitalism strikes again.

Wow, must get ADHD diagnosis—putting a pin in THAT.

Anyway, I’m thinking about The Hermit because she recently showed up in a client’s reading; this client is in the process of trying to start a family (I can’t think of a greater Hero’s Journey than that)., but I’m also thinking about Miss Hermit because I was talking to my therapist today about the concept of a “Sacred Pause” or allowing “the now” to be the only focus. I am in a very transitional period right now: I just started a new job that is extremely full time, super labor intensive and bowling me over with boat loads of new information. I don’t like being new at something. I hate the way it feels to ask questions and hear varying colors of “I’m annoyed that I have to explain this to you,” whether they’re real or my own projection. I hate when I forget that 1/4 is smaller than 1/3 (it’s a cheese and wine shop) and when I get nervous talking to people because I don’t have the answers. I hate not having the answers, which leads me back to the sacred pause. My therapist pointed out my tendency to move through life, especially transitional periods, with a chaotic urgency: a frenzied and fiendish need to solve. I am on the penthouse level of my brain, rustling through papers and quadratic equations, like a harried scientist poring over an impossible formula. I’m up there, Patrick Bateman-style, arranging my thoughts with precision and murdering others in the hopes of coming out of it, sun rising, born into a new and finally perfect version of me. I talk about this a lot: Solving the Problem of Me. Sorry to be repetitive, but as you know, experiments take several tries. The problem is, I never get into the elevator, I never leave the top-most floor in the highest building of my body (my brain) and while I run in circles and ride roller coasters up there (it’s an impressive place, picture the loft in “Big”) my body and Being at large are receiving no signals other than the classics: Anxiety, Lay Down Now, Dissociate to TikToks, Is it Heartburn or a Heart Attack? I’m the Titanic, and while the Upper Deck dines over classical music, the rest of the ship is wading through rising waters and electrical fires.

And once again we are wading through endless metaphors! Honey! People are drowning here!

The point: I have just gone from working a total of 0 hours per week to 42.5, commuting one hour both ways, and I am toying with the idea of no longer pursuing a career I’ve worked towards basically my entire life (acting, performing, yada yada). We’ll get to that later. Maybe.

The even more point: My therapist brilliantly pointed out to me, “You’re in a transition. Try to resist the urge to solve anything right now; just sit in this new chapter for a bit. Let that be enough.” Not exact words, but you get the picture. She directed me towards the trap of my own awareness, the narrative that I find myself in by working through the “I just wish” moments or the “Why me?” moments either in my own head or through the ears of others. When I run through all of the reasons something feels wrong, I’m hoping someone will say, “Yes, you’re right. Everything you’re saying makes sense. Quit your job and flee the country,” but it never happens. Instead, it usually results in the aquisition of team members to the Solve the Problem collective, or worse: worry, concern, and fear. It’s like I’m a hamster on a wheel. I’m getting my heart rate up, convinced I’m making strides, while those I deem more authoritative (that’s just about everybody) look on with pity. “Sigh,” they say. “She doesn’t even know she’s in a cage.”

Hold on, pause for a tangent: a person named Josiah just approached me at the hipster coffee shop, saying he saw The Hermit on my computer screen and that he was moved because today, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he grabbed a deck of cards called “Buddah Wisdom: The Divine Feminine” from his home. He expressed that he felt compelled to have me pull a card. Chills! But it gets crazier. Here is the card I pulled:

Sacred Pause! Synchronicity is so cool. This is the message: be here, right now. Put one foot in front of the other. Climb the mountain with no one but yourself as your guide, so that you can make it to the summit where your brain meets your body, and say, “We did that. Ready to go again?” I’ve gotten so used to my systems—the ledges and rocks I cling to along the way. I engage in the performance of “Woah is me” so that I can hear which thing to grab onto next, so that I can turn around and say, “How am I doing?” But I must journey into the dark, no clinging; no guides—just me, my stick, and my lantern.

If I can do this, I can keep my balance when some fuckface prospective manager tells me I don’t have enough money to “compete in this industry,” and that the shape of my body in my $400 headshot “isn’t cute” (stay tuned for a separate piece about this…). If I can do this, I can stand my ground when people in my life are prescriptive and reductive and won’t allow my new shape to take form.

Is this my, as the kids say, Villain Era? I am having visions of me in big fucking boots, stomping my way through life, tatted and angry and flipping everyone off. Unleash your inner teenager! Engage in self worship! Spit on people!!!

Or, it’s as simple as stating: “I’m doing okay, I’m taking care of this on my own terms, I’ll let you know if I need you.” (sticks out tongue) (just kidding).

Fun fact: The Hermit is featured on the inside of Led Zeppelin’s 1971 album Led Zeppelin IV, and while many think it’s a reference to Lord of the Rings, I believe the band was familiar with this card and its meaning. The lyrics to “Stairway to Heaven” are as follows:

And as we wind on down the road

Our shadows taller than our soul

There walks a lady we all know

Who shines white light and wants to show

How everything still turns to gold

And if you listen very hard

The tune will come to you at last

When all are one and one is all, yeah

To be a rock and not to roll

Baby, I’m in my Hermit Era. I’m winding down the aforementioned road, stopping to rest by a river bank, making shapes in the water, feeling the earth, and listening to the “Absolute Reality of Emptiness.” Rock not roll.

See you next time.

xo,

A