In the past few months, I’ve been walking, diving, deep into the energy of The Hermit.

I’ve explored the essence of other Tarot cards, but right now this is the one I feel most at home in. The Hermit, with his quiet, nonjudgmental presence, grants us the space to be fully present with our inner world—to sit with what we seek, what we need to know, and what is waiting to be discovered within.

He is not just a guide into solitude, he is a teacher, illuminating the path to deeper self-awareness. With his lantern, he reveals what we need to see: the beauty, the discomfort, the shadowy corners we might rather avoid, and the radiant light within us we often struggle to recognize.

To embody The Hermit is to walk a path toward true self-understanding and love. He doesn’t show us what to “fix,” because nothing is broken, only truths waiting to be uncovered and wisdom ready to be integrated. His presence brings us to a place of clarity and acceptance, where we begin to see things as they are, without illusion or resistance.

I have to admit—The Hermit is one of my favorite energies to live inside. I cherish solitude. I avoid crowds. I feel most at peace when I’m alone, or in the quiet presence of someone who fits seamlessly into my heart and soul.

And that, to me, is the first poem for The Hermit:

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HOW I GO INTO THE WOODS
by Mary Oliver

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“Ordinarily I go to the woods alone,
with not a single friend,
for they are all smilers and talkers
and therefore unsuitable...

If you have ever gone to the woods with me,
I must love you very much.”

But The Hermit’s path isn’t always gentle.

Sometimes, in his wisdom, he stops at the edge of a lake and asks us to dive. And that’s the hardest part of his energy for me—going underwater. I’ve never liked the feeling of being submerged, and maybe that’s why this part of the Hermit’s journey feels the most difficult.

Because when you dive—when you truly go under—you meet a silence unlike any other.
The absence.
The missing.
The opportunities you lost.
The regrets.
The hug you didn’t give.
The words left unspoken.
The moments you let slip away.
The courage you couldn’t find.
The truth you refused to see.

All of it is there, waiting beneath the surface.

It can feel like a battle with ghosts—sad, painful, overwhelming, even frightening.
But it’s also where the light begins to shine through.
With each dive, you grow stronger.
Each lake reveals something new.
Each descent brings deeper clarity.

And that is the second poem for The Hermit:

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GO IN AND IN
by Danna Faulds
“Go in and in.
Be the space
between two cells,
the vast, resounding
silence in which
spirit dwells...

Go in and in
and turn away from
nothing that you find.”

This is The Hermit’s gift.
He doesn’t lead us away from ourselves.
He leads us into the depths, into the silence, into the truth.
And with each step, each breath, each dive—
we emerge more whole.

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