Archive | Ruby Intuition
Tarot Lesson: The Hermit Card
In every one of my readings over the last week, I have drawn the Hermit. Typically this card is met by a scowl or a sigh from clients, and I understand why. Just its name evokes an enforced period of isolation, even a banishment—a feeling that’s all too familiar by Month 6 of Quarantime. But while few want the Hermit in the position of, say, future love, it generally receives as unfair a rap as Virgo, the sign it represents.
Really, both represent the divine inner teacher. Yes, to connect to such an energy we must withdraw from quotidian life—but only so we can activate our unique wisdom, the voice we can’t hear until all other chatter and clatter subsides. I believe the reason this card has been so prevalent is that the world has finally slowed down enough for us to hear and heed our highest selves, what some call the soul. Thus we are finally drawing on timeless resources that were not valued in our pre-Covid culture—namely, patience, wisdom (rather than wits), and universal compassion. So while my clients groan, I smile. And then I explain. Slowly….
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A funny thing happened under that full moon….
Boy o boy o boy o boy. We got the brilliant idea to do our full moon ritual by the river tonight and assumed the light rain would soon enough subside since the tropical storm wasn’t due til tomorrow. But you know: two witches + full moon= insane sudden downpour that cleared out the area before we noticed what was happening (it being a full moon ritual and all) and next thing we knew we were locked in the river park in the pitch black with the rain coming down like it was a vertical pool and to exit we had to wade into the river trailing crystals and sage to climb out over the rocks on the other side of the fence and only when we got back home did we realize we’d dropped our keys in the park and had to climb back back in over the rocks–soaked in city rain and city river, laughing hysterically with our clothes basically quotation marks rather than actual coverups as people under awnings gaped at the two wild-eyed amazons essentially bare-breasted in an empty, unmanicured field in what once upon a time was new york city. Which is to say: if THIS magical ritual in THIS magical dystopia doesn’t clear out all the UNmagical garbage accumulated over the last lunar cycle well then NOTHING ever will. I think we’re good, though.