When do we learn to stop trusting ourselves? Is it one moment, one conversation, one day? Or does the doubt build slowly, stone by stone, over time?
I’ve been struggling with trying to just do what I’m told. I’ve never been good at that. Some built-in rebellion against authority? Maybe you can blame it on my Yankee Self-sufficiency Syndrome.
I’m trying to follow blueprints and formulas to build a creative project. Irony, anyone?
The more formulas I apply, the more steam this creative project loses. Until it’s become a revolting boil on my day. I wrote about this frustration a bit yesterday.
I’m getting advice on this project – advice I paid handsomely for. I’m getting ruberics, graphs, stats and charts. I’m getting a pre-ordained to do list that makes my stomach turn. And the whole time I’m shaking my head, thinking, “No! No. That’s just not right. That just doesn’t work for me.” Except these people know better than me, which is why I’m paying them for guidance.
I thought maybe it was a good time to learn how to just do what I’m told. Until I couldn’t write anymore, until the project that was born out of love and passion turned into a blister in my sandy shoe.
My sister called me yesterday, sensing a disturbance in the Force. I told her my dilemma. That experts are telling me the road to success is this way, but my internal compass begs to differ. She’s sitting in a parking lot in her car, listening. I told her I could use a reading at some point; she’s an amazing Tarot card reader. She puts me on speakerphone and I hear the crack of shuffling cards as they land on her passenger seat. I shake my head in disbelief. She keeps a deck in her car.
“I need direction,” I told her, at the end of my rope. “I need to know whether to shut up and just follow the formula I’ve been given, or if I should trust my own intuition and judgment on this.”
I hear the tossing of cards over the line as I anxiously await. I hear her giggle. She reads the cards to me. The Universe laughs with her.
I don’t know if you’d even believe me if I told you the cards that were chosen. I’ve been reading Tarot for a long time, too. The cards that fell were not just making a point, they were totally over the top. The Universe has a sense of humor.
I said I felt like I needed to retreat and just do my thing in total solitude. The card representing me was The Hermit. I wrote about how the magic had fled my project and I wanted it back. Above me, The Magician. The Page of Swords telling me that work should be play. The 9 of Cups telling me my wish will come true. Cards of overwhelm, mental conflict, a lack of trust in self. And a definite directive to stop trying to make square pegs fit in round holes.
Guess it’s time to break some rules. I am both Hermit and Magician.