Leaning Into My Birth Card
I am fascinated by Tarot. I’ve spoken a bit about my love affair with oracle cards and how I use them in my daily journaling practice, but I haven’t spent much time talking about the Tarot. Why? Because it’s such a layered, complex, historically rich topic. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to the world of Tarot. I have chosen the “intuitive” approach to learn the Tarot which means spending lots of time and practice with the cards rather than “rote memorization” of the meanings. Early on, one tarot reader that I follow suggested looking at the cards through the lens of Jungian Archetypes and then “assigning” those cards a character/story. As a writer, I found this enticing and delicious.
Later on, I also found advice on paying attention to when your “birth card” comes up in a reading. Birth Card? What?
After doing my research (because that’s what I do), I learned that determining your birth card is essentially the numerological reduction of your birthdate which gives you the number associated with a specific pair of tarot cards. These are your “birth cards.” So what’s so special about them, then, if it’s just a number?
Well, in a way, it levels the playing field. Because every single card has a “light” and “shadow” archetype to it — that means every single person represented by those cards also has a “light” and “shadow” side. It puts all of us at the same starting point because we’re able to acknowledge that no matter which card you were born associated with, everyone has to deal with their light and shadow sides. I found this quote by Psychologist and Tarot Reader, Elinor Greenburg Ph.D. to be an excellent summation of why birth cards can be helpful:
One of the major benefits of illustrating one’s life issues with Birth Cards is that it decreases the sense of shame that many people feel about their perceived “flaws.” The underlying assumption of Tarot Psychology is that everyone is struggling with the issues of their Birth Cards and that everyone is equal in this respect.
It reminds me of personality tests, actually. Because we’ve all had those moments where we take a personality test, clench when we see the similarities, and exhale when we don’t identify with what’s being said about “us.” And at the end of the day, we know that whatever “type” of personality we’re associated with — we’re more than that as a whole. Those tests don’t determine the core of who you are, what you do with your life, or where you will go. Neither will your birth cards.
The point of birth cards is NOT to say that you are your cards and they are you. It’s a jumping-off point to start to understand and question who you are, where you’re at, and how you relate (or don’t) with the archetypes associated with the card and within yourself.
If you want to discover your own Tarot Birth Cards — there’s a great little calculator available online along with more information about the relevance and importance of birth cards.
The ironic (or is it?) thing is that I was naturally drawn to my birth card before I knew it was my birth card. Since I’ve been learning/studying Tarot, I’ve always been drawn to The Hermit card. When it comes up in a reading, I’ve always felt that it was the most accurate and honest representation of the situation and my feelings (whether that’s highlighting positive or negative things). It’s just a card that I’ve felt connected with on a deep intuitive level.
I was not surprised one bit when I discovered that The Hermit was my birth card. In fact, I felt a bit relieved knowing that there may have been some cosmic reason why I felt drawn to it. What’s more — I felt like the lessons and takeaways I’d been gleaning from The Hermit made so much more sense now that we had this “official” connection.
So what have I learned?
Silence is golden — The Hermit is a seeker of truth and inner knowing. He/She does so in a solitary way — leaving behind the external world to go deep within. I have found more often than not that to get the answers to the things I seek, I have to do so without the external voices of family, friends, social media, etc. There’s so much noise that unplugging to have a moment of silence to think is imperative. I see the value in The Hermit’s expectation that sitting in silence is an important way to get to the truth.
There’s danger in solitude — The Hermit is used to wandering paths alone. He/She is not bothered by their solitary nature, which makes it more difficult to recognize healthy solitude versus isolation. We are not meant to be in the world as isolated individuals, even those of us who are solitary creatures. I have found there’s a time for introspection, asking questions of myself and the world around me. But I’ve also found that if I stay there too long, I run the risk of sinking into a black hole of unanswered questions about life. It’s also easy to get stuck/stay in solitude when you don’t want to face the real world.
Integration is essential — Because The Hermit is constantly searching for answers, he/she is also always learning. The danger in that is when The Hermit forgets to integrate what he/she has learned. As a perpetual student, I have found this aspect of The Hermit to be one of my weaknesses. I enjoy learning so much that I often forget or overlook that the point of learning is to integrate it. I find this happens a lot with online courses that I take — I’m so concerned with taking in the information for potential benefits, that I end up moving on quickly afterward and never doing anything with that information again.
Realignment is difficult — The Hermit spends very little time in the “outside” or “external” world because there is so much noise, chatter, and expectation that he/she finds it difficult to be truly in alignment with their true selves. This is why they so often retreat within to gain that alignment back. As an introvert, I have struggled so much with the ways in which the external world affects my mental health, my capacity, creativity, values, etc. I often have to retreat inward for quite a while after “people’ing” because I feel as if I’ve lost my way. This is especially difficult when you have responsibilities, obligations, and duties in the “external world” that prevent you from going inward. Realignment then becomes a very difficult but necessary thing.
Independence can look like selfishness — The Hermit wants for very little in his/her life outside of the truth. Materialism, relationships, financial security, status — none of that really matters to The Hermit. He/She is more focused on spending time with their thoughts, pondering life’s deepest questions. From the outside, this can look like The Hermit doesn’t care about anyone or anything, but that is far from the truth. It’s not that he/she doesn’t care — it’s that they do not need those things to thrive as other archetypes do. This has been a hard lesson to learn in my life. I am an empath and have a big heart full of compassion. I love with fierce intensity and will protect those I love with ferociousness. That being said, I do not get my inner needs met by being with other people or having “experiences.” My needs are met most often when I’m alone with my thoughts. When I’m able to make meaning and patterns from the things I’ve learned. This has often resulted in friends, family, and others feeling as if I don’t care about them and I only care about myself. Complete independence can be a hard concept for people in this codependent world to understand!
Seeking and having knowledge is exhausting — The Hermit is always on the search for the truth. Whether that truth is something personal, political, spiritual, technical, practical, etc. Because of this, it can be quite exhausting to be The Hermit. He/She holds so many realms of knowledge in their head, it can be tiring to retain all that he/she has learned, plus continue to search on. I’ve been labeled a “Jane of all trades” in my life because of the knowledge I have about a lot of things. At first, this was an attractive quality — I was the person everyone would come to for advice/suggestions/help. Over the years though, I realized the cost of obtaining, having, and talking about all that knowledge. It comes with a certain level of expectations. That you may “know it all.” That you should be willing to help anyone and everyone because you possess that knowledge. Or that simply because you know a thing or two about a topic, you should then, inherently, be an expert. It is draining! I completely understand why The Hermit’s greatest strengths are also his/her greatest weaknesses.
At the end of the day, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have found these revelations without Tarot — I may have come across them via other methods or through alternative forms of introspection — but I can say that discovering them through the Tarot has made me a better card reader. It has introduced a new way of connecting to the archetypes of the deck. And it has infinitely enhanced my journaling when I happen to pull my birth card in a reading.
Maybe you think this is a bunch of nonsense (you do you, boo!) or maybe you’re intrigued. Either way, the discovery is all yours for the taking if you dare to take the challenge. Maybe you will find that your birth card is more or less the confirmation you needed about who you are on the inside.
Want to work with your birth card in a deeper way? Check out my Card Reading Journal Template to bring further introspection and thoughts into your journaling practice.
