In this involuntary period of self-isolation, Gabriella Tavini considers what might be gleaned from channelling the Hermit.
Illustration by Rachael Olga Lloyd
While dawn birdsong and spring blossoms rouse us from hibernation, global circumstances prevent us from emerging in full bloom. I think about The Hermit card and it seems 2020’s hibernation period is going to be longer than we thought.
Self-isolating may feel like a solitary journey because on some level, it has to be. Although we’re in hibernation physically, are we actually being awoken from a different sort of hibernation, one of lower-level consciousness? A place where we’ve taken a bite of the apple of Capitalism and drifted into unconscious slumber for far too long.
Stories and videos which spiritualise coronavirus have been permeating our newsfeeds. They’ve been met with both disapproval and praise. Disapproval because the fact of the matter is: people are suffering and people are dying at an alarming rate. Approval, because spiritualism soothes fear of the unknown. If spirituality breeds meaning and encourages humanity to strive for a more meaningful life—so mote it be.
The UK is on the cusp of lockdown. Businesses have shut; schools are closed, and those who are privileged enough to do so are working from home. Yes, money is tight. Yes, there’s uncertainty and yes there will most definitely be sacrifices; however, savouring this slower and more thoughtful environment gives us space to reflect. Enter The Hermit.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
The Hermit is the ninth card in the Major Arcana. The number nine indicates the completion of a cycle and the anticipation of the new cycle. It’s about finding meaningful value, a meaningful path after a long journey. The journey is the transition, a retreat from the world to reflect and learn to connect with our true voice and vision, to return to the outer world with strength and knowledge.
“Only by withdrawing from the outer world can we awaken the inner self.” - Rachel Pollack, Seventy-Eight-Degrees of Wisdom: A Book of Tarot
Contemporary culture rewards action, materialism and performative ways of living, so we usually perceive the word “hermit” as negative. This is a misunderstanding.
In his right hand, The Hermit holds a lantern symbolising the unconscious light within us all. It’s that gut feeling. That sixth sense. That place where we can check-in with ourselves and reflect on whether we’re living in a way that feeds our soul. Whether we follow the light or not is another matter. For now, we take comfort in the flame. All that being said, if we don’t protect the flame from the elements, it will go out.
Inside the lantern is a six-pointed star. Six is associated with beauty, stability and harmony illustrating the aligned cosmos and humanity’s vulnerable place within it all. In his left hand, The Hermit appears to be leaning on a staff. In most tarot decks, the Hermit is illustrated as an elderly man, so it’s understandable to assume he needs assistance getting from A to B. However, do not be fooled—for The Hermit’s staff isn’t really a staff; The Hermit leans on his trusty wand. The disguised wand is a reminder: even though our personal power may not always be visually present or even feel present, we all have the creative capacity and strength to choose how we spend our precious retreat. That being said, it's also worth noting that our individual circumstances: our financial situation, ethnic background or class will either benefit or hinder our ability to access personal power.
The Hermit can also represent a teacher in our lives. Our current quarantine is many people’s "normal reality." Currently, there are 13.9 million disabled people in the UK who rely on tech or a carer to help them go outdoors. And that’s not even counting those who are prevented from going outside because of mental illness. It’s a sobering fact to discover that one in five of us will be affected by a disability at some point and according to Mind UK, one in four people will experience a mental health issue every year.
Artists such as Frida Kahlo and Leonora Carrington spent periods of time in isolation due to mental and physical health issues. The reasons for their seclusion was beyond their control, but self-imposed seclusion while working seems to be the choice of many able-bodied creatives. In Susan Cain's book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, she highlights how "solitude matters, and for some people, it's the air they breathe." Indeed, solitude is the incubator for many solo creatives and their craft.
Painter and diarist Frida Kahlo, known in Mexico as la heroína del dolor, “the heroine of pain” wore her suffering, quite literally, on her canvas. Frida’s lengthy periods of convalescence meant painting became her only relief from the painful reality of her injuries. She contracted polio at an early age, which seriously injured her right leg. She was involved in a bus crash where a metal handrail pierced her lower body, breaking her spinal column, pelvis and two ribs. Kahlo was hospitalised for one month then sent home to recuperate; however, throughout life she underwent around 30 operations and never fully healed. The Broken Column is a self-portrait of Frida wearing a steel corset as part of her treatment for polio.
The Surrealist painter and writer Leonora Carrington was inspired by hypnotic visions, dreams and the occult to create uncannily original portrayals of her isolated reality. She suffered a psychotic break when her lover, Max Ernst, was arrested and sent to a concentration camp. Soon after, plagued with paralysing anxiety and haunted by disturbing visions, Leonora was confined to a mental institution where she was further tormented by the brutal medical treatment she received. Evidence of Leonora's solitary existence is depicted in one of her most iconic paintings, The Inn of the Dawn Horse.
Both Frida and Leonora's uniquely harrowing experiences resulted in creativity that embodied the horror and enlightenment of The Hermit archetype.
In times of darkness, we’d be wise to look for The Hermit’s lantern, flickering like a lighthouse, a symbol of safe passage through choppy waters and rocky ocean beds. What can the hermit archetype and these resilient artists teach us? Well, a few things: empathy for those whose pains are greater than our own; acceptance, the realisation that some circumstances are out of our control, that we must make peace with the cards we’re dealt and use the tools at hand; discernment, the realisation that your worldview is unique to everyone else’s; and last but not least, bravery, to have the courage and the passion to sculpt your own vision of what it truly means to live well, no matter the sacrifice.
So let’s withdraw: finish watching Season three of Sabrina, read that next Book of Shadows, study tarot and most importantly, make time to reflect. Let’s keep in touch with loved ones. Let’s meditate and use spell-casting for comfort and healing. And let’s keep sharing what we’ve learned, so when we return to the outside world, we can shape a more fulfilling and enlightened world to live in. Because although this may be a solitary journey, we’re all in this together.