Turning On The Light — The Sun & Imposter Syndrome, Part 2

The value of doubt and solar generosity

If you’re interested in a Rays of Light reading or any of my other offerings, my books are open now for August and September. Come see me!

Solar Clarity: The Value of Doubt 

As I outlined in Part 1, imposter syndrome is an elaborate kind of self-doubt. Self-doubt can stow away gifts, hoarding them until they are “perfect.” Self-doubt can feel like humility but it is as likely to be a warped hubris, where the fear of being rejected matters more than the desire to share. This is a Sun that never rises because it will only do so if it fits a standard of Sun-ness it would ask of no other star. Such exceptional standards aren’t admirable. They are miserly. I see little value in this kind of doubt or humility.

However, I’m not ready to throw out all doubt in favor of unyielding certainty. Having more confidence is great. I’m for it. But I find it useful to slow down and consider whether imposter syndrome makes a point or two before trying to “overcome” it with self-assurance.

When you ask yourself, “Can I really do this?” it could be a good question. As an astrologer and herbalist, I need ask myself this question. “Can I really do this?” may mean you care. It may mean you’re aware that what you do impacts others. If it feels like something is at stake, maybe it’s because it is. This is a part of imposter syndrome I’d like to keep as long as — and this is the trick — the person is really asking the question and not just using it as a stop sign. So often, it’s just do not pass go. 

When imposter syndrome simplifies my myriad of professional fears down to a pinpoint, it sounds like, “I’m a fraud because I don’t know enough” (which is absolutely expressed in my chart, which we’ll get to later). If I scratch the surface of that simplified fear, I get “I don’t know enough and that means I will make a mistake and hurt someone.” Imposter syndrome encourages perfectionism so it wants me to guarantee that I definitely, absolutely will never cause harm and if I can’t know that for certain, then I shouldn’t go forward at all. That perspective does not see clearly.

I could just stop there but if I allow for a little doubt, it doesn’t have to be I will or I will not cause harm. It can be “I care about not hurting anyone and I cannot be sure that I won’t.” If I stay with that, new questions surface.

If I’m afraid that I’ll cause harm and I can’t be sure I won’t, is there a way for me to reduce this risk? Could I get clear on what I think I can help with versus what it is out of my depth? This helps me set expectations and stay in my lane. If I cause harm, how might I learn that I did? Will I be defensive and panicked or will I be able to hear it? What will I do next in repair? Am I willing to take a step back and learn something new? These are useful questions when beginning and they are worth revisiting often. This is the sort of humility I’m interested in. Ironically, this little bit of doubt makes me more confident. I feel more responsive in the face of my fears.

Some of the fears that imposter syndrome stirs are valid fears. It takes solar courage to go looking for them and then sit with them. Solar courage is the strength to withstand what makes you unsure of yourself, to feel around in your own heart instead of closing it up or turning aside from it. In my Rays of Light reading, we go looking for these valid fears. When we find them, people visibly relax — not because they are safe from what they fear but because they are actually looking at it. They are being present with their own hearts. Nothing is as solar as presence. 

Turning On The Light

The AMA question that kicked off this project asked if I had imposter feelings about reading for strangers. I don’t remember having imposter syndrome about that. That happened very slowly. By the time I was reading for strangers I almost didn’t even realize it was a milestone. It helped that I started giving readings with no intention of professionalizing. I wanted to do well but I wasn’t as worried about it as I would have been if I had thought I’d be doing it for a living.

Imposter syndrome kicked into gear for me, and hard, when I switched to doing this work full time. Suddenly, it was like I was announcing I was a “real astrologer and a real herbalist” (whatever that means) and that I was betting on my own skills enough to expect to live off of them. It also meant publicly talking about and selling my work all the time. Which really meant selling people on me, as a practitioner. Terrible. Very scary. Probably for a lot of people, but it hits my chart in a particular way.