Man, there was this stretch of time, not too long ago, where I felt like I was just moving through mud. Not even moving, really, just kinda churning in place. You know that feeling when you’re stuck, really, truly stuck? Like you’re trying to run in a dream, legs pumping, but getting nowhere? That was me. Professionally, personally, everything felt like it had just hit a wall and decided to take a long, uncomfortable nap right there.
I was waking up every day, doing the same routine, the same tasks, seeing the same faces, and it felt like I was watching my own life from a distance. Like a low-budget movie I couldn’t skip. I knew deep down I needed a change, something big to shake things up, but at the same time, I was absolutely terrified of it. It was this weird loop of wanting out and also clinging on for dear life. My desk was a graveyard of half-baked ideas, my calendar filled with commitments I no longer cared about, and my mind was a constant hum of “I should do this” that never turned into “I am doing this.”
Now, I’m not really one for all the mystical stuff, but I’ve always had this old tarot deck lying around. My grandma gave it to me years ago, and it usually just sat in a drawer, a dusty curio. One particularly stagnant evening, after another day of staring blankly at my computer screen, I just pulled it out. Out of pure boredom, I guess. I shuffled it, pulled a card, and there it was: The Death card. But it was upside down. Reversed.
I remember just kinda staring at it, my brain trying to make sense of it. Death. Reversed. My first thought was, “Oh great, more bad news.” But then I decided to actually look up what that even meant. And let me tell you, when I started reading, it was like someone had written a description of my exact predicament. Everything about “resisting necessary change,” “stagnation,” “being unable to move forward because you’re clinging to the past” – it just hit me. Hard. It wasn’t about an ending, it was about my refusal to let something end, to let something new begin.
That realization, it was a proper kick in the guts. All this time, I thought I was just in a rut, but no, the card was telling me I was actively fighting the natural flow. I was the one holding myself back. It clicked why I felt so exhausted – I was constantly battling against myself, against the inevitable. I was trying to keep alive things that were clearly past their expiry date, and it was draining all my energy.
So, I thought, okay, what does that mean for me? How do I actually overcome this stagnation that I’m apparently manufacturing myself? It wasn’t a snap decision, more like a slow burn of understanding. I started by just observing. Where was I resisting? What was I clinging to?
- The Mental Clutter First: I realized I had so many “shoulds” in my head. “I should finish that old project.” “I should reply to that old email.” “I should maintain that friendship even though it’s draining.” I decided to just acknowledge them, and then, slowly, one by one, question if they still served me. Most didn’t. I literally pictured myself taking these “shoulds” and putting them in a mental shredder.
- Physical Decluttering: Then, I went for my physical space. My desk, my computer files. All those old documents, screenshots, half-written articles from years ago that I was “going to use someday.” They were just dead weight. I spent a whole weekend just deleting, archiving, throwing away. It felt ruthless at first, like I was losing parts of myself, but then came this incredible lightness. Like I was making space, literally and figuratively, for something new.
- Breaking Small Routines: I started small. Instead of my usual coffee shop, I tried a different one. Instead of watching the same old show, I picked something completely new. Instead of always checking my phone first thing in the morning, I tried sitting in silence for five minutes. These were tiny, almost insignificant changes, but each one was a little break in the pattern, a tiny victory against the inertia.
- Saying “No” More Often: This one was tough. I used to be a chronic “yes” person, always afraid of missing out or letting people down. But “Death Reversed” made me realize I was letting myself down by constantly over-committing to things I didn’t truly want to do. So, I started declining invitations that felt like obligations. I said “no” to taking on extra tasks at work that wouldn’t genuinely benefit me or the team. It felt awkward, definitely, but also incredibly liberating. The initial discomfort slowly faded, replaced by a sense of reclaiming my own time and energy.
- Embracing the Unknown: The biggest fear, I realized, was the unknown. What if I let go and nothing new came? But the card wasn’t about a void; it was about transformation. So I actively started looking for new things. I signed up for an online course I’d been eyeing, just for fun. I picked up a new book in a genre I never usually read. I even went to a local meetup for a hobby I had zero experience in. It wasn’t about being instantly good at these things; it was about opening myself up to new experiences, new ways of thinking, new paths.
The whole process wasn’t like flipping a switch. It was a slow, sometimes painful grind. There were days I felt like giving up, days the old inertia pulled me back in. But every time I pushed through, every time I let go of something dead, even something small, I felt a tiny shift. Like a creaking door slowly opening. And eventually, that door opened wide. The stagnation, that heavy, suffocating feeling? It started to lift. New ideas began to flow, projects started to gain traction, and I found myself feeling genuinely excited about life again. It wasn’t an ending; it was a hardcore reset, a total clean-out, all thanks to a dusty old card telling me to stop fighting the inevitable and just let the old stuff die already.
