Learning to Read the Hermit
This series on the learning to read the major arcana presents some of the ways that I like to think about each of the majors with the hope that it helps you learn more about or think differently about these cards.
In each of these posts, I provide an overview of how I read the relevant major arcanum through a few different lenses: with keywords; in the context of other majors; and through visuals. You can read more about the premise behind this structure in the introductory post on the “Learning to Read the Major Arcana” series.
For Virgo season, it’s time to look at the Hermit, one of my personal favorites for a few different reasons. And if you’re interested in learning more about the basics of the Hermit, listen to my chat with Erin of the Tarot Heroes podcast, where we discuss my business namesake (the Hermit).
Remember that these may represent just a small sample of what I might consider when I see a major arcanum, but they are still quite deep takes, so they can be a lot to take in all at once. Don’t be afraid to skip around and come back to it paragraph by paragraph as needed.
Keywords
As a reminder, these keywords are examples and not exhaustive of all possible meanings of the Hermit. Remember to take what works for you and question what doesn’t. (You might find a new middle ground that works for you.) I’ve tried to arrange these keywords by broad concept to help organize them and make them easier to learn.
Isolation, Solitude, Choosing the less-traveled path, Introversion
Wisdom, Guidance, Self-reflection, Analysis
Austerity, Intentional hardship, Self-deprivation, Quietude
The wilderness, Stretch goals, Spiritual coach, Old age
Virgo, Earth, Transcending matter, Psychopomp
In Context
If you’re one of my students or you have followed my work for a while, then you know that I’m all about layering interpretive techniques. So here we will look at the Hermit in a few different contexts beyond the keywords.
Since it’s Virgo season as I write this, I’m going to start with how the Hermit reflects its astrological association with Virgo and the element of earth. Then I’ll explore how the Hermit relates to its neighbors before considering other numerological friends.
Remember that you do not have to read all of this at once. It can be a lot to take in, and it may need some pondering. Very few readers who know all these things actually use all of them in a single reading. Just let it percolate and enter your subconscious. When you need it, it can appear.
The Hermit is associated with the sign of Virgo and, by extension, the element of earth, represented by the World/Universe. This may be surprising given how cerebral and anti-earth the card can appear, but you can blame that on Mercury (represented by the Magician), which rules Virgo. The two other earth signs are Taurus and Capricorn, represented by the Hierophant and the Devil, respectively.
Let’s start at the end with the World/Universe. I think a lot of the Hermit’s more subtle meanings can be found through this earthy major. Both are cards of personal development and of achieving a mature state. The World represents the culmination of some phase or journey, as well as the transition into the next. In some ways, the Hermit can be seen as the first major milestone, often one that would benefit from outside guidance but which, at the end of the day, can only be completed by oneself.
Another important transition shared by both is the shift from death into rebirth. (It’s worth noting that the World/Universe represents scythe-wielding Saturn, as well as elemental earth.) The Hermit is often depicted as near the end of their life or at least, in a deprived state that might be at the threshold. This liminality makes it easier for the Hermit to connect with the other side of the proverbial Veil in the sense of direct experience, rather than through the esoteric mysteries of the High Priestess. As such, it makes sense that the Hermit would be a psychopomp, someone who acts as a guide to the underworld.
This transition from material realm to spiritual is seen in Virgo more broadly, as I’ve described in the Lamp Lighter Workbook with its divination exercises for connecting with Virgo energy. And this in large part comes from the ruling planet, Mercury, who was also a psychopomp. In tarot, Mercury is represented by the Magician, so let’s turn there next.
Both the Magician and the Hermit share an important relationship to individuality and identity. The Magician, as the card numbered one, is often a sign of the individual outside of any relationship with others. In some ways, the Magician represents the true self, but it’s fairly immature. The Hermit, on the other hand, has more experience, and they have tested themself. The Hermit takes the ideas and desires that the Magician plays with and puts them into practice. Can that idea or manifested dream withstand the pressures of all that time alone? Virtually anything that is done solely for others, especially any identity that is not authentic or integrated, will fall away under the extreme conditions by which the Hermit lives. By spending that time alone in contemplation and analysis, rather than in the performance of the Magician-as-street-performer, the true self can be seen. And as the Hermit’s advanced age shows, that’s a lifelong lesson.
Now we’ll turn to the three other earthy cards, the Empress (Venus), the Devil (Capricorn), and the Hierophant (Taurus). The connections here are less exciting to me, and I think it’s because Virgo as the mutable sign of earth explores the transition away from earthly matters. That’s fitting for the Hermit, and it’s in strong contrast to the Empress and the Devil, as well as the Hierophant.
The Empress and the Devil are very much of the world. The Empress is a complex figure representing love and creativity, but as Mother Nature, the Empress is the source of everything we can touch with our hands. The Devil, also a creator of the material world in some esoteric traditions, helps us enjoy all of the stuff we have here on earth. Sometimes, we enjoy it too much. The Hermit eschews all of this worldliness, these earthly concerns, at least for a time. In some ways, the Empress and Devil represent what the Hermit is specifically turning away from in going up the mountain or into the cave in the first place. They are the material distractions from which the Hermit escapes to better contemplate the spirit.
And that’s where it’s interesting to bring in the Hierophant. The Hermit is also turning away from the organization of knowledge and belief represented by the Hierophant. The religious or educational or organizational leader represented by the Hierophant only has relevance within the context of their community. The Hermit is a source of knowledge and belief, but it comes through direct experience, not mediated by the experts who hold the consensus. Both the Hierophant and the Hermit are valuable teachers, and one isn’t better than the other, but they do function in drastically different ways. The Hermit can explore—must explore—what can’t be taught in the classroom or from the pulpit. That may be the foundation on which the Hermit builds, but individual experience will refine that information into something much more profound and personal.
I should note that since the Hierophant can also represent family and ancestors, there’s an interesting connection to the psychopomp aspect of the Hermit, but it’s sort of like the edge of two circles touching. They don’t really share a lot of territory on that front.
With the astrology out of the way, let’s shift gears and look at the role that sequence and numbering play with the Hermit, numbered 9.
Along the Fool’s Journey, the Hermit comes after Strength or Adjustment/la Justice, depending on the tradition of deck you prefer to use. In either case, there has been some event that catapults a drastic shift in trajectory that may flavor your Hermit’s journey.
With Strength, there’s a personal trial that demonstrates individual power and inner resilience over obstacles. I like to think of it as the checkpoint after which the Hermit knows they are ready to embark on something more challenging. Along this trajectory, you might want to consider what inner passion has been released through Strength that can now be refined in the Hermit. There’s a focus and willingness to make significant sacrifice in order to achieve the next level of whatever passion has been uncovered through the trials of Strength. There’s a certainty and willingness to take charge in Strength that is necessary in order to embark upon the Hermit’s separation. It’s a quiet kind of leadership that isn’t as visible. It may only have an audience of one, but it’s inspiring nonetheless.
With Adjustment or la Justice, there’s a realignment that forces the distancing of the Hermit (or the Fool who seeks them out). As a card of human justice and institution, much like the Hierophant but with a different purpose. To me, I imagine this as a moment of personal decision or judgment handed down that reminds the Hermit that human laws are not as important as universal or natural laws, which is then met with the Wheel of Fortune. Society has spoken, and the Hermit has chosen silence instead.
In that silence and away from the clatter of everyday life, there’s a more direct connection with reality of nature and with the nature of reality, and that’s where the Wheel of Fortune offers the Hermit some surprising lessons. There’s a cyclical nature to the Wheel that feels very distant from the Hermit. Change is probably not great when you’re trying to live as efficiently and minimally as possible. A sudden storm may be majestic when you’re watching from the safety of your porch, but it’s not great when you don’t have a warm shelter with another set of clothes to change into if you get wet. That said, such close connection to the highs and lows of experience inspire wonder in the miracles of life, and that’s certainly an area in which the Hermit shines. It’s all the more fitting that the Hermit would leave the cave and re-enter society with that experience in hand.
That return to society is an important turning point for the Hermit, not unlike the death and rebirth seen with the connection to the World/Universe. And that comes through the numerology of the 9, which is the final single digit and gives way to 10, which is the next phase but simultaneously a transition back to 1 (1 + 0).
In the Pythagorean system of single-digit numerology, the 9 of the Hermit finds its mirror in the 18 (1 + 8 = 9) of the Moon. And if you’re curious about Hermit’s Mirror as my business name, know that it comes from the numerology of 9 (my life path number) and the beautiful symbolism of the Hermit and the Moon.
Both the Hermit and the Moon shed light in the darkness, exposing what would otherwise be hidden. The Hermit seeks to understand the mysteries that the wilderness and their inner world have to offer. As the card of mysteries, the inner world, and our wild natures, the Moon is a fitting mirror. As a result, both arcana can be associated with shadow work and psychological analysis. The Moon is the world of mystery, and the Hermit is the one who explores the psychic landscape. That’s because the Moon shines light in the dark through reflection (an object), while the Hermit actively carries a lantern with its own source of light, shining intentionally here and there.
That said, the Moon as an archetype and not just an object in space offers inspiration for where the Hermit can grow. After the certainty developed through Strength, the Moon challenges the Hermit to see beyond what can be seen with material eyes. It’s an uncomfortable position and creates new uncertainties that are critical to understanding why the Hermit stays apart from normal society with its conventions of what constitutes reality.
As a shift from Pythagorean numerology, I want to highlight that in the Septenary system (sets of 7 instead of 9), the Hermit is mirrored by the High Priestess and the Tower. I’ve previously discussed the intriguing connection of divine connection between these three cards, so I won’t repeat that here. But it’s worth reading if you’re curious to play with numbers.
After all that structure, it’s useful to remember that individual cards and the imagery on them will greatly affect how you interpret a card in a reading. So let’s see what emerges from a specific image of the Hermit.
Visuals
It should be no surprise that I like the Hermit. But I don’t love the image of the bearded old man. For a few years, I actually feared seeing the Hermit in the mirror (another reason for Hermit’s Mirror). Since then, I’ve realized that the old man is a useful reminder that life experience takes time to accumulate and that the Hermit is not so different from the Hierophant—similar figures, different worlds. But it’s also a limiting image. Instead of examining an old man, let’s look at a younger woman with the Hermit of the Light Seer’s Tarot by Chris-Anne, published by Hay House.
And because I also absolutely love it, I’m going to share a little about the Hermit from the Mary-El Tarot by Marie White, published by Schiffer. There are some shared symbols that are pertinent to my concept of the Hermit and to a recent pastime of mine.
In the Light Seer’s Tarot, the Hermit sits atop a cliff looking out over the water, shining light for all to see, like a lighthouse. There is a lantern in the image, but it’s been left on a rock lower down the cliff. The beacon light that guides travelers (and warns them away from danger) comes from within the Hermit herself.
Despite the wind that blows the Hermit’s hair and the craffy rocks underneath the Hermit’s bare feet, the woman seems perfectly at ease in these surroundings. She doesn’t have much with her, and she doesn’t need much. She is content in and of herself, confident and radiating but not centerstage. She is a point of calm and serenity to which others might aspire. In this way, she is the Star on the ground, one of my favorite metaphors for the Hermit.
In the Mary-El Tarot, the Hermit rises from stormy waves. This Hermit is part of the wildness of the waters: the Hermit’s blue robe and white beard seem to merge with the blue waves and white crests, but they are distinct as well, floating along the waves like a wraith. With their langern dangling by a finger, the Hermit is a less certain lighthouse. Perhaps they offer protection from dangerous waters, but they also are those waters, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a scenario in which this ghost-like Hermit tempts lost seafarers with that light of hope.
Overall, the Mary-El Tarot’s Hermit is a much more untamed figure, perhaps they’re not so stable or integrated—a far cry from the Light Seer’s serenity. This Hermit is more moon-touched. Despite being a suspect guide, the Hermit is undoubtedly unafraid of the elements. They’ve ridden these waves before, and they are in harmony with the stars and surf. They might have plenty to teach, but they will not be easy to reach, and you might not like their methods once you find them. The Mary-El Tarot reminds us that there’s a reason more tarot readers resonate with the High Priestess than the Hermit. The Hermit is most definitely not for everyone.
As another point of comparison for the Hermit in the Light Seer’s Tarot that can help build upon this idea of the lighthouse and a source of wisdom in the dark wilderness, it’s useful to think about the rest of the Light Seer’s Tarot and its sister deck, the Muse Tarot. In these two decks, there are interesting ties to the Hierophant card that further illuminate this beacon of safety in the darkness as a figure of divine inner wisdom.
Behind the Hierophant seen in the Light Seer’s Tarot, a staircase rises up into the heavens. It’s a direct path to spiritual wholeness beyond the joyful, down-to-earth priest. In the Hermit card, stairs rise up from the roaring waters to offer a winding path to the top of the cliff where the Hermit has climbed. The Hermit has walked the path opened by the Hierophant, but she has taken her own detours rather than the direct path.
In the Muse Tarot’s Hierophant, a cloaked figure walks up a gentle rocky incline beside water toward an enormous, veiled Muse seated atop an outcropping. Lanterns light the way forward, but there is no obvious path up to the Muse. Instead, She is observed from below, possibly in reverence and possibly with disillusionment. It’s another reminder that the Hermit has a difficult road ahead toward the promise of spiritual enlightenment. But interestingly, the Hermit of the Muse Tarot is in a completely different terrain: this Hermit shines her light during the day in a desert—hot, dry, and bright rather than cold, wet, and dark. She too has found her own path after encountering conventional wisdom.
Did you learn something?
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