You run on depth pressure. Small talk physically costs you; the real subject — power, grief, desire, the thing under the thing — is where you finally relax. People tell you what they've never said out loud, and you keep it like it's yours.
The cost is intensity management. You test people without announcing the test, hold the map of everyone's undercurrents, and can mistake control for safety. Not every room needs excavating. Some things are shallow and fine.
Pluto was demoted and kept every bit of its gravity — status was never the source of the power. The practice is trusting transformation without forcing it. You've already died a few times and walked out reorganized. That's the skill. Let others keep their surfaces until they're ready.