The Hermit

   The Hermit is a card of solitude and it is something that I have been avoiding lately. Usually when this figure appears in a deck I take the time to step into my inner world and away from the cares of the material one. This time I have found it more difficult to do so. There have been too many interruptions and tasks that needed my attention.
   The hermit though is a patient old man and he can wait until you are ready to take his hand to ascend up the mountain with him. For he knows you aren't going anywhere until you do.
   He represents a time of silent retreat and introspection. He is Father Time, Saturn...the wise old man. The world lies at his feet as he stands upon the peak of the world. At first glance it may seem as though his head is bowed maybe in sadness or contemplation, maybe even to see where he is placing his feet. But since he already stands at the mountain top, it may just be that he is looking down on all that is transpiring below, separate but ultimately aware of all that is going on in the only the way that a silent watcher can be.
     His wooden staff is a bright yellow and it may simply be that the light of his lantern falls upon it turning it this colour. But that in itself holds meaning. Yellow is the colour of the mind and the intellect and it is this that keeps him upright and connected to the ground beneath him, both his support and his authority.
     Jung labelled the old man as one of the main archetypes, an archetype being an impression without our collective consciousnesses that having such depth that he has a form and wisdom all his own. That he may appear in ones dreams or visions as a link to the ancient wisdom of our elders and ancestors.
   His lantern contains a six pointed star, a symbol of the meeting point of all the elements and heaven and earth finding balance. With this wisdom he guides the way in the darkness, holding it aloft to bring light to the world below.
   When this card appears in a reading I take as a sign that I need to take a moment and step inside to find this inner mountaintop and speak with the presence of my highest self, the ultimate witness. The last time this card appeared I took a pilgrimage to Mount Shasta in Northern California. I had read about the peak many years earlier and had always felt drawn there. I was lacking direction in my life and I felt like all my dreams had turned to ash and my path was obscured. I didn't realise at the time how much solitude would play a part in that particular journey and if I had known I may not have so easily gone down that road. I was living in England after a soul crushing defeat in terms of my plans to start working in the US. I had been foiled by a single line of small print at the bottom of my visa ticket, which didn't allow me to change my visa. This meant I had to let go of a job offer and return home to live with my parents, shortly after turning 30 and take up a job mopping floors and serving burgers in a military base.
    The card had come up and I had decided that I needed a retreat to take time to think. I ended up at the mountain in early spring when the snows were just clearing and staying in a quaint bed and breakfast in which I was one of the only guests. The place was a little cramped and filled with dusty antiques and brik-a-brak (not my style at all!)The other guest was a lady in her sixties. She had lived a life remarkably free of difficulty or suffering, but instead it had been filled with excitement and adventure and she was treating herself to a trip around the world. We talked some, but for the most part I walked the roads around the mountain alone, enjoying the sun and the views.
    Solitude has been a constant companion for me, one I have not always welcomed, but one I have found to be comfortable enough. After I had learned my second level of Reiki I have felt the presence of beings around me, so it has not been solitude in the sense that most people understand and I feel that this alone has allowed me to endure long periods of time without other contact.
    My memories of being a young child are filled with moments of solitude, watching the rain or the snow from windows, or spending time reading or watching the clouds pass. My parents were often busy with their business and we would have sitters watch us, but for the most part we would find ourselves left to our own devices. Thus, silence is no threatening monster to me and I am quite comfortable with it, within myself and my environment.
     The hermit and his cloak remind me of some of the many times I spent while in England. Often I would walk the streets late at night, seeing the beauty in the sodium lamps that ran along the parkways where I lived. Most people looked at the sky, but I could find beauty in the street lamps and on more than one occasion found tears in my eyes at the beauty of it all. The cloak I would imagine wrapped around me keeping me hidden from the often drunken boorish individuals who also liked to walk around late at night.
   So I do feel a quiet kinship with the hermit. He is here to remind me that the inner solitude is less than a step away and sometimes a retreat is just what you need. That he is here to take your hand in those moments of solitude and quiet to guide you to the mountain top, not always to give you answers, but sometimes just to show you the view.