Man, I gotta tell you, lately I’ve been feeling like I’ve been running on fumes, right? Just doing the motions. Like you’re playing a character in a movie where you don’t even know the script anymore. You hit all the checkboxes—good job, good place, decent friends—but the engine light is flashing red and the tank is empty. I felt this creeping dread, this total disconnect between what I was putting out to the world and what was actually rattling around inside my skull. It’s that kind of low-grade anxiety that just keeps humming in the background.
I usually lean heavy on logic, you know? Spreadsheets and systems. But the systems weren’t fixing the me problem. So, I figured, time to try something completely off the grid for my usual routine. That’s why I sat down with a deck of Tarot cards. Not for fortune telling, but just as a way to smack my subconscious and force an answer out of it. I needed to see what my actual True Inner Self was screaming about before I totally burnt the place down.
The Breakdown: Why I Got Real With The Cards
The reason I went so deep on this recently is because I had this massive project fail, and I mean fail in a really public, embarrassing way. I’d spent eighteen months climbing this corporate ladder, sacrificing weekends, skipping vacations, all for this one huge launch. When it finally crumbled, I was devastated. But the weird thing? After the initial shock, this massive wave of relief washed over me. And I couldn’t figure out why. I was supposed to be weeping into my expensive coffee, not feeling like I’d just dodged a bullet. That feeling, that strange relief after total failure, was the clue. It showed me I was fighting for something I didn’t actually want, and the failure was just the universe finally giving me an out.
I realized I’d been living according to the expectations of people who weren’t even in the room. My old mentor, my college career counselor, even some idea of the “successful guy” I saw on TV ten years ago. It was all external noise. And just like that company in the example I know about, where everyone is using a different stack and everything is a goddamn mess? My life was a technical debt nightmare because I was trying to run five different operating systems simultaneously. That’s when I said, “Enough. Time to pull the plug and see which card describes the core operating system, the real BIOS, of who I am.”
My Simple ‘Inner Core’ Reading Process
I don’t mess around with complicated spreads when I’m trying to get a straight answer. I needed a mirror, not a crystal ball. My process was super direct, stripping away all the fluff. I wanted an immediate gut punch of truth.
First, I just cleared the whole damn table. Turned off the phone. Sat in total silence. I spent about ten minutes just staring at the deck, trying to get my brain to shut up for once. I actually physically told myself, “Look, you’re not allowed to think about the taxes or the car maintenance right now. Just breathe.”
Then I took the deck. I shuffled it, not with some fancy cut, but just aggressively, like I was trying to shake the answers loose. And while I shuffled, I formulated the question. I didn’t ask “What should I do?” or “Will I succeed?”. Those are weak questions. I asked one very specific, unavoidable thing:
“What fundamental energy, which True Inner Card, am I currently denying or refusing to live out?”
I was looking for the card that represents my authentic self, the one I’ve shoved in a closet.
Finally, I cut the deck into three piles, just instinctively, and then I turned over the top card of the middle pile. It was a one-shot deal. No second chances. The card that emerged was the one I had to deal with.
The Card and the Uncomfortable Truth
The card I turned over?
The Hermit (IX).
That was a punch in the gut, honestly. My first reaction was, “No way.” I’m the guy who organizes the meetups, the one who is generally out there, trying to make things happen, maybe even a little loud sometimes. I’m an extrovert, aren’t I?
But then I sat with it, and man, it clicked. The Hermit isn’t about being a total loner who hates people. It’s about seeking the light from within, stepping back from the crowd to gain perspective, and holding up the lantern of inner wisdom. It’s about not needing external validation for your path. And the truth? I have been denying that. I’ve been so terrified of stopping or slowing down that I’ve never actually given myself the silence needed to hear my own advice. I was constantly seeking advice from others—even that corporate ladder climb was based on someone else’s definition of success. The Hermit was basically telling me, “Dude, you know the answers. Go sit in a quiet room and look at your own damn lantern.”
Moving Forward With My New Program
So, the result of this whole crazy exercise? It’s not about changing my entire life in one day. It’s about a tweak in the programming. I now realize that my true strength—my True Inner Self—is not the busy networker or the project closer. It’s the thoughtful observer. It’s the guy who steps back to process before jumping in.
The practical change is simple, following The Hermit’s tough-love advice. I’ve started carving out actual, non-negotiable solo time. Not for working, not for doom-scrolling, but just for sitting. For thinking. I’ve been writing down my own thoughts first before asking anyone else for feedback. I’m focusing on strengthening my own inner light so I don’t need to constantly borrow energy from the outside world. This process wasn’t some fluffy self-help crap; it was a hardcore diagnostic check on what I was ignoring, and the card nailed it. Sometimes you gotta get weird to get real, you know?
