When Life Felt Like A Rain Delay
I gotta be honest with you guys, for about six months last year, I was straight-up lost. I mean, totally running on fumes. I was working my tail off, right? Grinding, hitting every deadline, making decent money, but every morning felt like I was dragging a hundred-pound sack of rocks out of bed. The whole thing was just grey. I was chasing what I thought was the ultimate goal—financial stability, external validation—and kept crashing into this wall of pure, joyless exhaustion.
I was watching all you folks online, talking about happiness, talking about finding your path, and I kept thinking, “Easy for them to say.” My life felt like a complicated knot I couldn’t untangle. I wasn’t depressed, exactly, I was just utterly dull. I needed a switch flipped, a serious shove back toward the light. That’s why I finally cracked open my old tarot deck. Not for some mystical prophecy, but because I needed a project, a concrete instruction manual to fix my inner mess.
Pulling The Card, Planning The Campaign
I sat down, shuffled those worn-out cards, and asked the universe (or maybe just my own subconscious), “What simple action do I need to take right now to stop being such a lump?”
I cut the deck. And there it was. Smack in the middle. The Sun.
Now, usually, The Sun means happiness, success, clarity, pure joy. It’s the best card you can get, hands down. But I didn’t want the pretty picture meaning. I wanted the how-to. I looked at that card, the naked child, the huge sunflower, the bright yellow light, and I decided to treat it like a 30-day mission brief. I committed to not just understanding The Sun’s meaning, but physically replicating its energy in my absolutely complicated life.
Executing The Sun’s Daily Protocol
I started documenting everything. I wasn’t looking for instant enlightenment; I was clocking actions and their immediate emotional feedback, just like tracking project metrics. I broke down what The Sun represented and started implementing changes, even when it felt ridiculously stupid.
Here’s the breakdown of what I had to force myself to do:
- I demanded simple clarity. The Sun card is pure and direct. My life was choked with unnecessary tasks and commitments. I went through my calendar and violently deleted anything that didn’t bring a definite “hell yes” or wasn’t critical for paying the bills. I got rid of three complicated volunteer roles that were just draining me. I said ‘No’ more in two weeks than I had the entire previous year. It was awkward, but it instantly freed up hours.
- I chased the actual light. This was a non-negotiable physical requirement. I used to wake up, stare at a screen, and drink coffee in the dark. I swapped that out. I forced myself up 30 minutes earlier, grabbed my coffee, and sat outside, even when it was chilly, and just stared at the actual sky. No phone, no news, no listening to podcasts. Just sun exposure. I did this for 30 straight days.
- I embraced radical transparency. The child on the card is naked and totally unguarded. I realized I was spending so much effort managing other people’s perceptions of me. I started just telling the truth—not rudely, but simply. If someone asked how I was, and I was feeling tired, I stopped saying “Great!” and started saying, “Honestly? I’m beat, but I’m getting there.” This reduction in social performance anxiety felt like dropping a 40-pound backpack.
- I celebrated the smallest win. The Sun is about abundant energy, not just the big payday. I started a dedicated journal entry called “Shining Moments.” It wasn’t about achievements; it was about noticing the small stuff: a good cup of coffee, a genuine laugh, hitting all the green lights. I actively cataloged joy.
The Payoff: Manufacturing My Own Light
The real shift hit me right around Day 18. I was still busy, still had problems, but the mental grey haze had totally lifted. I realized that the card wasn’t waiting for external success to deliver happiness. It was the source. I wasn’t waiting for the universe to give me the pony; I was building the pony myself by focusing on those simple, radiant truths.
The Sun tarot advice isn’t some deep mystical secret. It’s a very practical, almost coarse instruction: Clear the clutter, find the light, and stop making everything so damn complicated.
I found ultimate happiness not by solving all my big life problems, but by generating so much internal light that those problems stopped looking like dark monsters and started looking like manageable shadows. It was hard work forcing those actions at first, but once the momentum picked up, it became self-sustaining. Now, when I pull The Sun, I don’t just feel hopeful; I feel totally in charge. If you’re stuck, stop waiting for the cosmic lottery and just start shining your own light. Trust me, it works.
