Spoiler alert: The Fool is me.
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I learned too late that The Stanley Hotel, which I came upon quite by accident, is famous. I found the property on a dreary day while looking for a place to fuel up my car outside of the Rockies. I later learned that a visit to the Stanley in 1974 inspired Stephen King to write the horror classic The Shining. And that The Shining miniseries and some scenes from the movie Dumb and Dumber were filmed there. Also that The Stanley offered a tour explaining all of this in person. It simply wasn’t as satisfying reading about this history online.
The lobby was low-lit and trimmed in dark mahogany. It had a mysterious, whodunit feel such that I expected someone to suddenly and whimsically drop dead. That didn’t happen, but I did find a ghoulish-looking woman (costume, I think) selling tickets to a magic show later that night. I love me a good magic show (real or fake) as much as I love me a haunted property (real or fake) so, naturally, I went.
The illusionist, Aiden Sinclair, performed a fortune telling and mind reading show like those performed at The Stanley over one hundred years ago. I first glimpsed the Fool when Sinclair unveiled an old set of tarot cards that he presented to the audience. Note: You don’t have to believe in tarot as a legitimate divination tool in order to enjoy this post. This story is about archetypes as Swiss psychologist, Carl Jung, understood them which is what the images on the tarot cards represent. This isn’t a mystical post; it’s a psychological post. Surprise twist!
Jung posited that our minds consist of three unequal parts: one part conscious (the smallest) and two parts unconscious (the largest). Relevant here is the collective unconscious, the part that contains an ancestral blueprint that instills universal predispositions from our collective past—like being afraid of the dark. This is also where the archetypes reside: symbols and images representing universal human patterns that pop up in people’s minds all over the world. Archetypes are important because they influence our behavior and structure the narratives we tell about ourselves.
The Fool card depicts a care-free man staring up into the sky as he is unknowingly just steps away from walking off a cliff. The card is numbered zero and can either be at the start or end of the tarot deck. This is because the Fool is not interested in beginnings or endings; he simply exists right now, in the present. The Fool also doesn’t concern himself with outcomes or goals; his interest and focus is solely on the journey.
This archetype represents new beginnings, taking leaps of faith, and following one’s gut. You may be unwittingly in the grip of the Fool during your most daring moments. People around the Fool think he is naive or crazy because he defies cultural norms. But he doesn’t care—or possibly doesn’t know—because the Fool has blind faith that the universe will always take care of him and that everything will always work out.
I instantly recognized myself in the Fool narrative. At first I felt shocked and then I felt relieved. Having a profoundly human explanation for why I quit my job on the east coast to chase a dream on the west coast made me feel less peculiar. Although this cross-country move appears impulsive, I’ve actually wanted to move to Los Angeles for years. I didn’t before because I could not tolerate the foolish thought, much less form an actual plan and execute it. Perhaps back then I was under the influence of the responsible Ruler archetype who seeks to impose order through rigid structure.
I’m grateful to the Fool for taking hold of my mind and giving me the swift kick in the ass that I needed to embark on this adventure. When I feel fear, his presence in my psyche reminds me that time is precious, life is short, and that the only way to really live is to live boldly. I also realize that I can’t live in the Fool’s skin forever since he never reaches an actual destination. His purpose is getting me to LA, but once I’m there, I’ll need him to take his leave and recede into the background.
I’m also comforted by a truth that took me too long to recognize: that I am a direct descendant of a fool. I wouldn’t be here at all if my father had not emigrated from South America nearly fifty years ago. Surely someone at that time questioned his sanity, too.