Still waiting to trust? Maybe your 9th lord’s just napping

When the 9th lord sleeps, belief fades. Not all at once—but slowly, like a soft dimming. You used to trust easily. Now you hesitate. You ask the sky for signs, but the sky stays quiet. You try to hold onto meaning, but it slips through your fingers. This isn’t anger. It’s absence. Not loud disbelief, just a quiet ache where faith used to live.

You want to believe. You read the words. You light the incense. You close your eyes and whisper hopes into the dark. But nothing stirs. It’s not that you’ve stopped caring. It’s that you’ve stopped expecting anything in return. Somewhere along the way, trust became too costly. Every time you believed, something broke. So now, you wait. Silently. Suspiciously. Maybe it’s better not to expect.

The 9th house carries the soul’s questions. Why am I here? What does this mean? When its ruler hides, answers feel far. People talk about purpose like it’s simple. Like it’s something you can just decide to believe in. But belief doesn’t work that way—not with this placement. It needs time. Space. It needs a reason to return. You’re not lost—you’re just walking without a guide. For now.

But there’s something beautiful here, too. Belief that is rebuilt is stronger. Trust that returns after silence is sacred. You may take longer to believe, but when you do—it will be real. Not borrowed. Not faked. Not handed down. Yours. Fully. Quietly. Completely. Maybe your 9th lord is just resting. Maybe it’s not gone, just waiting for you to stop pretending. To stop rushing. To stop looking outside for what’s always been inside.

Until then, it’s okay to drift. To not know. To question every step. You don’t have to be sure to keep going. You don’t have to see the path to walk it. One day, belief will rise again. Soft. Steady. Honest. And you’ll feel it—not as a loud answer, but as a quiet peace. Like an old friend returning. Not because you demanded it, but because you were finally ready to trust again.