When it Benefits you to be a Complete Fool

So you’re at a point in life where you’re supposed to have “figured it out” by now, right? And the idea of looking like a fool is mortifying. Getting older came with a promise of mastery and knowing. Self-assuredness. Wisdom. All the things that were supposed to have arrived by now.

But instead, you find yourself wondering: Does anyone actually take me seriously? Do they see how childlike I still feel inside? The more you learn, the less you think you truly know.

You are right, and wrong, all at once.

Yes, the journey of developing knowledge is indeed humbling. When we are young, or trying something new for the first time, it’s like expanding the mind from the concept of nothing to the idea of everything. It’s a massive, mind-blowing leap into awareness. But the more knowledge we gain about a subject, the less novel each next nugget of knowing feels.

As we age, truly new experiences begin to dwindle. The shininess of what’s next grows duller, not because life is smaller, but because you have already experienced so much. With knowledge across many domains, it becomes rare to encounter something that feels awe-inspiringly new. And this is why, in our 30s, 40s, and 50s, we often find ourselves thinking: Wait, is this it?

Fear not, we’ve pulled The Fool card this week to help you step out of fear and get back into living…

• A Gem: Clear Quartz
  Pure Energy, Power, Limitlessness
  Consider this stone a clean slate with which to work your magic. It’s the magic eraser of all of your old negative thoughts.

• A Song: “Dog Days are Over” by Florence and the Machine
  ”Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back.” Ok, this lyric is pretty violent, but it embodies the shock of joy that you can and will feel when you embrace the silly little Fool in you whose joy is so present, shame cannot enter.

• Scent: Freshly Cut Grass and New Books
  Crisp and bright, smells that invigorate and liven your spirits

• Numerology: 0
  Infinity, Wholeness, Limitless Potential, Mystery
  The beginning of everything and all that is to come.

The Fool is the initiator of the new. The bouncing bunny, fertile with life and energy, visits us many times across a lifetime. But as we grow older, the idea of appearing to be a Fool becomes far more frightening, even threatening, than it was when we were wide-eyed teenagers encountering new challenges every day.

Very few people in positions of leadership, power, and prestige are comfortable with appearing foolish. Yet it is often our reaction to the fear of looking stupid that leads us into immature behavior. I’ll briefly stray from my vow to never talk politics here: Trump’s choice to spew expletives and flip off a Ford factory worker after being challenged about protecting pedophiles is one of many ways he embodies a person in power who is terrified of being seen as a Fool.

Anyone stepping into the role of “President of the United States” is by definition, a fool, be it the first time, or second. Checks and balances are necessary so that anyone with that amount of power cannot wreak havoc with their own impulses. To be new to something and be called a Fool is one thing. To lash out at those with less power because of your own fear of appearing foolish is another entirely.

However you may feel insecure in your abilities or knowledge this week, know you’re at least a little wiser than our current sitting president.

The Fool card has called your attention this week. It is not asking you to relinquish power through humiliation like someone else we know. It is asking you to own the power you hold without becoming trapped by other people’s perceptions, which are so often mirrors of our own insecurities.

You are not a Fool in the negative sense. You are the Fool in the truest sense: someone whose life will feel richer and more fulfilling if you allow yourself to remain a beginner, even while carrying all the wisdom and knowledge you have already earned.

I’ll admit it: I have been stumbling through a serious season of rebirth for the last five years. Prompted by the “show yourself in 2016” trend blowing up on Instagram, I’ve been reflecting on who I was back then. The self-destructive side of my Gemini spirit has been fixating on what I lack now compared to then. And yes, I’ve been feeling like a fool in the worst sense.

I’ve been holding a lot of shame about abandoning certain parts of my career, while also recognizing that the person I am now, the more embodied version of me, could never betray herself the way I once did in pursuit of external validation. 2016 was a meteoric year of success for me and my career. I achieved things that most people will never even have access to. But that success was fueled by survival mode, something I fully woke up to in 2020.

The five years since stepping out of survival have been freeing in so many ways. And yet, there is a part of the Fool I need to meet again now, one that can help me understand what thriving outside of survival truly looks like, feels like, and is.

By that point, I had been in small business for six years, three of them running a storefront with my name on it, Moorea Seal, in Seattle, Washington. Our online sales were booming. My first guided list-making journal, The 52 Lists Project, had come out the fall before and was an instant success. It led to a two-book deal for a home décor book and a follow-up journal, 52 Lists for Happiness, both of which I wrote within a single year.

That fall, when I attended the largest trade show in the U.S., I discovered that my publisher, Penguin Random House, had devoted an entire end-cap of their booth to 52 Lists for Happiness. In their eyes, I was a money-making star. And they were right. The following year, 52 Lists for Happiness became one of Random House’s top five best-selling books across their entire catalog and hit #2 on Amazon’s bestseller charts, beating the Bible.

I was featured in a beautiful full-page spread in the LA Times about me and my first book. We hosted our first anniversary party at my storefront, and there was a line down the block before we even opened. I was honored as “Young Alumni of the Year” at my alma mater, the first art student ever to receive the award and the first woman honored in many years. Emma Watson, Joan Cusack, and a few other notable celebrities were spotted wearing handmade products from my store.

I traveled every other month to trade shows and events to speak about my books, my rising career, and my creative work. For a brief moment in time, I was an “it girl.”

I designed a fine jewelry line and launched it to wholesalers worldwide. I created a desktop product line that was also placed in stores globally. Ten years later, I still have inventory of both, which you can shop on mooreaseal.com. I did photoshoot after photoshoot, hiding behind a cookie-cutter, femme, straight-girl façade, and attended countless influencer events. I traveled across the U.S. to photograph homes and interview inspiring women for my home décor book.

My staff and I began searching for a new storefront to expand into, and we signed a ten-year lease on a 4,000-square-foot space in downtown Seattle with an $8,000-a-month rent. It was a massive year, one that could only be surpassed by the career success of 2017.

But behind the shiny façade, I was struggling.

I was experiencing an overwhelming amount of newness all at once. The power of the Fool card was too much for my Cancer rising spirit. The rapid expansion of every part of my career, writing, retail, product design, was simply too much. I had no time for friends or family. I did manage to take a honeymoon with my ex-husband that year, but it was also the last year we were truly aligned. He was jealous of my success and felt emasculated, while I was beginning to wake up to the deep queerness I had repressed in my efforts to please others and be a “good girl.” I was terrified.

That same year, my great-uncle Toby passed away at 94. He had been openly gay since before World War II and continues to be my hero. I was able to tell him that I had left Christianity, a revelation he celebrated, but I was still a year away from speaking my own queerness out loud. I desperately needed his guidance while feeling trapped inside a religious family that believed a woman couldn’t be a lesbian and that no gay people entered heaven. And that year, the guide and ally I needed was gone, back to dirt as he would say.

That same year, a young family member had an unexpected pregnancy with someone who deeply frightened me. Two months after the baby was born, we learned the baby had cancer. It feels nothing short of miraculous that both parent and child, now nine years old, are alive today. At the same time, I was enduring major trauma with a family member I called my brother, though he was not. Fueled by my old desire to rescue, I tolerated a great deal of his abuse, abuse that tragically reinforced the unworthiness of love and acceptance I already felt inside.

Personally, 2016 was devastating. While professionally, it was amazing. Unspeakable things happened that left me deeply traumatized. And yet, those very hardships became the catalyst for writing 52 Lists for Happiness. I realized that no amount of career success or professional acclaim can counterbalance personal trauma and heartbreak. Happiness doesn’t come from what happens to you. It’s something you must seek out, hold onto, and share.

The Fool doesn’t ask us to forget what we’ve survived. It doesn’t demand optimism or blind leaps. It does invite us to loosen our grip on who we think we’re supposed to be and to make room for curiosity again.

For me, this card is a reminder that thriving after survival is its own initiation. It requires a different kind of courage than hustling or proving or enduring. It asks me to trust that I don’t need to recreate the version of myself who succeeded under pressure. I get to meet life again with softness, discernment, and play, without abandoning my wisdom or my boundaries.

And if you’re reading this and recognizing yourself anywhere in these words, here’s what I want you to know: feeling unsure, beginner-minded, or tender amidst a history of achievements, it does not mean you’ve failed. It means you’re alive, paying attention, and standing at the edge of something new.

You don’t have to know what comes next to take the next step. You just have to be willing to walk with yourself as you are now.

If you want a few gentle ways to integrate this energy, here are some options. Take what resonates. Leave the rest.

Reflect

try journaling as you contemplate these questions:

• Where in your life are you craving certainty, when curiosity might serve you better?

• What would it look like to be a beginner again, without self-judgment?

• What part of you feels ready to play, explore, or experiment, even in small ways?

Practice

• Try something you’re bad at on purpose. Low stakes. High kindness.

• Take a walk without a destination or productivity goal.

• Say yes to a spark of interest you’ve been dismissing as impractical.

Support

• Listen to Lisa Congdon’s podcast to hear a late blooming woman’s story of embracing the Fool in the second half of her life.

• If you’re moving out of survival mode, therapy, somatic work, or trauma-informed coaching can be powerful allies.

• Journaling, especially list-making, can help clarify what truly brings you joy now, not what once did.

• Community matters. Even one safe, curious, non-performative relationship can change everything.

May you let yourself begin again, not because you forgot who you were, but because you honor who you’ve become.
May you release the need to look wise, impressive, or finished.
May you trust that joy is allowed to surprise you.

The Fool is not here to embarrass you.
The Fool is here to walk with you into what’s next.

And that, truly, is where life opens back up.

(She/they) is an artist, designer, and writer based on an island outside of Seattle, WA. Her latest published work is the Every Little Thing You Do is Magic tarot deck and guided workbook, created in collaboration with Callie Little. Her best-selling list-making journal series, The 52 Lists Project, includes six guided journals for mental and emotional well-being for adults and children. She is also known for her home decor book, Make Yourself at Home. Her books have been published in several languages and have sold over half a million copies worldwide. Find her everywhere @ Moorea Seal , and shop her fine art, home goods, and more at mooreaseal.com.