0. In the end, the beginning
The Fool’s Leap and the Edge of Becoming. Writing letters to myself and you can perhaps peep over my shoulder and read too
‘What we call the beginning is often the end.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.’
- TS Eliot
Hey you!
And so we start where we are, as we are. I’ve been doddering and tottering, wondering whether to ring a bell and announce my arrival like the first cry of a newborn unto the world. Then again, if no one’s there to hear it, did the bell really toll?
The first time I ventured into writing on the internet—back in 2002 on that peculiar thing called LiveJournal—I christened my fledgling blog “Here, There and Everywhere.” Two decades on, it still holds true. I’m everywhere and nowhere, rooted and unmoored, teetering on the edge of understanding and accepting that this is who I am. It’s not about unpicking the why anymore—it’s about reveling in the inescapable glee of being here, as I am.
On the edge.
Zero. 0. Sifr. Sifar.
In Urdu, Sifar means zero - nothingness, but also the potential for infinity. The edge of a beginning, an ending, or both. It’s the space between, neither here nor there, like a flickering light caught between dawn and dusk. Symbolic of the precipice of something meaningful or nothing, even.
I could have chosen the archetypal Hero’s Journey - Joseph Campbell’s map of adventure and return. Or maybe the Heroine’s Journey as charted by Maureen Murdock - a descent into the underworld to reclaim the lost self. Instead, I find myself drawn to The Fool’s Journey as depicted in the Tarot, by Arthur Edward Waite and Pamela Colman Smith.
Ah, Tarot - the mere mention has people raising eyebrows. “Are you the woo-woo type? Do you really believe in it?” Curiosity laced with contempt, a subtle nudge to tether the mystical to something respectable. Mention Jung or Campbell, and they nod along, enlightened. The Fool? They frown, unconvinced.
The Fool, the very first card in the Waite-Smith deck, strides with naïve grace. There’s an innocence - perhaps a reckless thrill - in the way she moves forward, sun at her back, eyes fixed on the sky. One more step and she might plunge off the cliff, and yet she walks on, guided by a deep, inexplicable pull.
At her side is a loyal white dog (or maybe a fox?), yapping for attention, as if to remind her of the danger. But The Fool pays no mind - her heart is too full of possibility. A small sack swings from her staff - everything she needs carried lightly, both within and with her. It’s not lost on me that she’s dressed as if for a royal court but walks as a wanderer, unburdened, open to whatever comes next.
It reminds me of the moment I found myself at Khardung-La, 18,000 feet above sea level. I took a breath - sharp, cold, unfamiliar - like a newborn gulping air for the first time. The world was new again, and anything felt possible.
Waite himself once wrote:
“The Fool is also that sudden and unexpected urge in all of us to begin anew, to leave behind the past with its stagnant and outworn attitudes, circumstances, and relationships, to take the great gamble and voyage into the unknown with only hope, instinct, and intuition to guide us…”
It’s that quiet nudge, that compulsion to step into the uncertain, propelled by nothing but faith. To risk being the Holy Fool—reborn not through knowledge, but through willingness to unlearn and be unmade.
The Waite-Smith Fool card has a cheerful young woman standing right at the edge of a cliff with the warm sun shining brightly on her back. She’s dressed in a colorful tunic and pantyhose that suggests Renaissance Europe. The person looks incredibly carefree, maybe even a bit oblivious to the fact that one more step could send her hurtling down a cliff. At her side is a loyal white dog (or is that a fox?), seemingly trying to catch her attention, perhaps to alert her to the looming danger. But the young woman remains focused on the sky above.
A small sack dangles from the staff she carries over her shoulder: everything she needs on this journey and adventure is both within her and with her. She might be dressed for a royal court, but there's a sense that she's a wanderer at heart, someone who prefers the open road and the freedom it brings. The card is a moment of rebirth: full of potential and uncertainty.
It’s that quiet nudge, that compulsion to step into the uncertain, propelled by nothing but faith. To risk being the Holy Fool—reborn not through knowledge, but through willingness to unlearn and be unmade.
Much like what Arthur Edward Waite wrote as he described The Fool:
The Fool is also that sudden and unexpected urge in all of us to begin anew, to leave behind the past with its stagnant and outworn attitudes, circumstances and relationships, to take the great gamble and voyage into the unknown with only hope, instinct and intuition to guide us…
Following this ambiguous but perhaps divinely inspired instinct to move forward, we may truly become the Holy Fool of legend, wise through faith in the future and newborn through a willingness to let go of what we have outgrown.
Zero. Sifar. The Fool.
It’s not just a number, but the root of cipher - codes and secrets, deciphered and mysterious. We’re all playing out stories, some known, some unknowable. The mythical, the mystical, the in-between.
And here we are, full circle.
If you’ve just stumbled into my little spinning world for the first time, welcome. I make no promises. Only that we’ll explore, risk, and maybe—just maybe—leap.
Finding joy in no promises,
Joy
Joy- I like the connective tissues in the way you make everything come full-circle, pun intended. Hope you're well this week. Cheers, -Thalia