A Dying Vocation? November 19, 2008

I recently read a book called How to Be a Monastic and Not Leave Your Day Job. In it, the author notes that as of the time of his writing there were nearly as many Benedictine oblates (lay associates) as there were vowed Benedictine monks and nuns. Evidently monastic life is not the draw it once was, as the number of Catholic nuns and monks is dwindling every year. Most young Catholics simply do not want that vocation, and the number of monasteries is likewise dwindling as their existing members grow old and die but are not replaced with new religious.

I’m not sure if this is likewise the case with Buddhist or other monasteries. Perhaps monastic life still carries a strong attraction for folks in other religious climates. However, it does make me wonder if the decline in interest towards vocational monasticism in larger Western religions means that little interest will be directed towards monasticism in Paganism?

There are so few people in the various Pagan faiths, reconstructionist, eclectic, traditional or otherwise, that I wouldn’t except there to be many who are monastically inclined, since it’s a vocation that seems to truly call only a small minority of people anyway. (I wouldn’t necessarily count the second or third sons, unwanted widows or unmarriageable daughters who were historically sent off to enter religious life as having been “called.”) If there are only a few hundred thousand Pagans in the U.S. and of those, only a small percentage are practicing some kind of Norse-based or Northern Tradition faith, then I suppose I oughtn’t be surprised if I’m the only Lokean nun around, I guess. But it makes me wistful. When all is said and done, I still long for community, even though I’ve struggled to accept my comparative isolation for the foreseeable future.

Perhaps in centuries to come Pagan religion will have the numbers as well as the structure and financial means to build some actual monasteries and convents.  As of now, the Maetreum of Cybele is the only Pagan religious order I know of that has its own central physical headquarters. I hope one day there are more, but if monastic life overall is declining the world over (which it may or may not be) it’s hard to say whether the same things that put people off from becoming mainstream religious are going to factor into the attraction of monastic life for Pagans.

The Future Is Not Yet November 17, 2008

The more I read about monastic life in other faiths, the more I come to see that this is going to be harder than I believed. The more I understand about the way things like the Benedictine Rule work, both on paper and in the real world of fallible humans, the more I realize that I am truly a novice in so many ways. As of now I am in no position to write a Rule for a hypothetical Pagan community because I myself have not been a nun for long enough. There is so much I do not know about the gods, about the Old Norse ancestors that last worshipped Them, about the reality of living as a Lokean priestess-wife and a Pagan anchorite. I have truly been hubristic to believe that my writing of a Norse-based Rule will happen in a few years’ time. I think rather that I will be old when I finally start to write it all down. Perhaps someone else will get there before I will; if so, I would welcome the opportunity to see what kind of ideas their own study and work have brought forth.

I’m 37 now. I’ve only belonged to Loki for a few years, and although much of the past five years has been spent in isolation, living an existence that has become gradually more removed from the concerns of the dominant society I live in, that in no way makes me qualified to write a set of guidelines for a group of fellow monastics. I do not have enough grounding in knowledge of the primary sources. I do not have a good understanding of how a monastic community based on Pagan spiritual values might work, as opposed to a Christian monastery. Most significantly, perhaps self-indulgently as well, I do not know myself well enough, in the sense that the office of priestess and nun is still a relatively new one. I am still figuring out not only what those roles look like, but what they look like when I fill them, if that makes any sense.

So I have decided, after some thought, to focus on deepening my own spirituality and living more fully as a vocational dedicant of my gods, in a fashion based on Norse culture and values as I understand them, translated into modern life. This means a lot more reading and study, a lot more reflection and practice, and a lot more self-discipline and work, including work of the most petty and mundane sort. If I were a beginning music student, I could not hope to one day write a symphony if I didn’t start at the beginning with scales and finger exercises, right? While one day I will be capable and experienced enough to pass down what I know, first I have to know it. And that sort of knowledge can only be acquired through effort and experience, not through secondhand accounts from persons who, while they may share in some of the same experiences, are writing from a fundamentally different point of view than mine. I am, after all, a Pagan and a mystic who sees and speaks to spirits as friends and allies rather than demons or illusions. I am not a Buddhist or a Catholic or a member of some other transcedental faith, and their ultimate goals are not mine.

For now, I plan to continue educating myself on the general subject of monastic life, taking what is useful to me and leaving the rest. I intend to re-read the Eddas and start reading the sagas again, as well as other primary and secondary sources concerning ancient Nordic religion, works of archaeology and anthropology, and modern writings on Heathenry and Northern Tradition Paganism. I also want to develop a more stringent daily routine and set some more concrete goals concerning regular rituals for holy days. Whenever I find material that I think will one day be useful in the writing of a useful Rule, I will make a note of it. But I will cease pressuring myself semi-consciously to hurry up and read X many books so that in a couple of years I can write all of this down…because it’s not going to happen that way. I haven’t even managed to master the limited goals I’ve already set for myself, and the recent experiment with wearing habits was a dismal failure. I’m not being self-recriminatory here, but these examples serve to highlight my unreadiness.

I also feel it’s no coincidence that within the last couple of months, my opportunities to leave the house, except for the occasional errand, have been steadily dwindling. I can’t use the excuse of having access to a car and a city full of distractions as a reason why I don’t get things done. This is not to say that I want to isolate myself further, but that I recognize a message from the gods when I see one – and the message here is that I need to really learn what it is to live a 24/7 contemplative life before I earn the right to have a break from it. So I’ll take the hint. I’ll slow down. I’ll endeavor to acquire self-knowledge. I will be mindful of what I learn. I will use discretion in my words. I’ll cultivate the courage to take up the work that is directly at hand rather than in the distant future, and the compassion to do it whether I want to or not. I will persevere and be grateful for the opportunity this life has handed me to experience the awesome and terrible power of the gods and the beauty of the Nine Worlds we inhabit.

Next year I’m going to take a formal vow dedicating myself as a nun. April Fools’ Day was when Loki first came to me in a dream which I have never forgotten, and I think that’s an entirely appropriate day for someone belonging to Himself to make that sort of oath. I have spent the better part of a year already in my current situation, and while there is no doubt in my mind that this life is the one for me, it’d be nice to have a formal acknowledgement of that. And five months is a generous amount of time to develop a more structured schedule for daily devotions and work, to do more reading and thinking about what a Northern Tradition monastic’s ultimate goals ought to be, and maybe to resolve the “what does a Lokean nun wear every day?” question once and for all.

Ethics and Values, Addendum November 16, 2008

I’ve decided that in addition to celebration, contemplation, mindfulness, sacrifice, service and faith, another value expressed in my Northern monastic Rule ought to be hospitality. “Well, duh!” some of you are probably saying now. All I can say is that sometimes I focus too much on my intense inner life and my relative isolation, forgetting that I am supposed to be writing for other people as much as for myself. Not every Pagan nun is going to be doing this for the same reasons I’m doing it, nor within the same context or environment.

There is a great deal of precedence for hospitality as an important value in the primary sources, which is why it is counted among the Nine Noble Virtues of Asatru. Havamal has many words of advice for the host or guest who wishes to behave correctly and avoid making an ass of himself. Being hospitable was probably more than mere politeness in Viking Age Scandinavia, however – it was a necessity in that society. It strengthened existing ties of obligation, kinship and friendship, allowed new alliances to form, and ensured that one would likewise be welcome in the halls of those whom one had previously made welcome. Hospitality was a way of ensuring one’s social capital as well as preserving the well-being of the community as a whole.

How this is relevant to monastic life ought to be fairly obvious. Being hospitable to guests, whether they are fellow nuns or monks or simply visitors to one’s household, shows that the monastic, far from being aloof from the world and its problems, is ready when necessary to help those who may be in need of assistance, food and shelter. Removing oneself from the worldly concerns of lay folk is not the same thing as turning one’s back on them entirely. Indeed, to do the latter is a bad idea. Remember what I said about community and social capital? None of us lives in a vacuum, not even the most isolated nun or monk, Hospitable treatment of guests is a tacit assertion of one’s willingness to partake in the greater concerns of the world, even if one’s goals are not the same as those of others in the community.

Hospitality shown by the community as a whole towards outsiders increases the well-wishes of the outside world towards the monastic community, even in areas where said community is a religious minority. This works for non-monastic groups as well. “They may be a bit strange, but they’re good people” is an ideal attitude for non-Pagans to have towards the Pagans living among them, even if it’s just a lone family or a small kindred or group. Being hospitable (and neighborly, when it’s called for) goes a long way toward fostering that attitude. Even when differences of belief exist, generosity and graciousness are pretty universally understood.

Hospitality increases frith both with the outside world and within one’s own monastic community or household. Being hospitable, generous and gracious to each other as well as to guests and visitors is something that a group of monks and nuns might do well to strive for. Human nature being what it is, friction and problems are likely to arise even in the most harmonious monastery, and striving towards a spirit of hospitable treatment of each other can go a long way towards soothing ill feelings. When hospitality is a conscious goal, along with the other six values I’ve already outlined, things become easier for both the community at large and for the individual in his/her quest for spiritual understanding and greater closeness to the Holy Ones.

I realize I’ve gone into rather more detail here for this value than I did for the other six, but as I’ve said, I’m feeling my way along this road, and in future I might write a more expanded version of the Ethics and Values, Part Three post.

Acedia November 14, 2008

In all honesty and despite my efforts to keep this blog moving along with explorations of Pagan monastic life, things have been rather difficult for me lately and my peace of mind has suffered. Last night was a nadir; I became very depressed and upset about a number of matters, some of which were related to living the life I have. A friend sent me two links about acedia, a state of spiritual torpor to which monastics are often prone:

Acedia, Bane of Solitaries
Acedia and the Good Friend

Before I got a chance to read these, however, I was suddenly reminded that only a few days ago in an entirely unrelated conversation, my housemate Joshua was telling me about a book by Kathleen Norris called Acedia & Me: A Marriage, Monks and a Writer’s Life. (Norris is also the author of The Cloister Walk.) I’d put Acedia on my Amazon wish list, thinking that it might be a useful resource at some point in the future when I really needed it.

I want to slap myself for being too blind and silly to have seen this before. Give me a sign that I’m on the right track, I’d said a few days ago after praying to my gods for help. Well, I got my sign, for within a few days, two different people pointed it out to me. Knowing that I’m not just a lazy slacker, that acedia is something commonplace, makes me feel better and also more determined to overcome it. Knowing that my feelings have been shared by monks and nuns and religious folk of various faiths makes me feel far less alone as well.

Something to Think About November 11, 2008

From the blog A Nun’s Life:

Loneliness for me has to do with that part of me that only God can fill. Sometimes I try to fill it with things that are not God – other relationships, my work, various distractions, etc. These things in themselves are not bad or wrong, but when I put them in the place that God alone can fill, then I’m the one who suffers that feeling of loneliness because I’ve placed things in between God and myself.

I enjoy reading this blog because of sentiments like these that ring true in my own experience, despite the fact that she’s a Catholic and I’m a Pagan. The sentiment expressed here is one wholly familiar, although it’s not necessarily so simple as that for me – nor for Sister Julie either, I suspect, though I wouldn’t presume to say why. I’m going to try to explain myself here.

There is a part of me that constantly hungers for my gods – and no matter how close my personal relationships with other people become, or how full a life I’ve got otherwise, that part can only be made happy by feeling Their presence. I venerate and give thanks to my ancestors. I have cared for the spirits of the dead. I make an effort to acknowledge and befriend the wights and spirits of my home, the land I live on and the places I go. I’m aware that there are other beings in the Nine Worlds besides the gods, and that many of them likewise deserve to be honored. But the Holy Ones, especially Loki and His family, hold a special place in my heart and to Them I will give my faith, loyalty and trust before I give it to anyone or anything else.

One thing that may or may not be held in common between me and monastics of other religions is that it is a joy to experience my gods intimately, but it can also be frightening to draw nearer to Them. The Norse deities in particular are not exactly concerned with peace and turning the other cheek. They can be fearsome, coming to us wrapped in death and destruction, strife, madness and the rage of battle. All these things are a part of existence, but they’re harder to celebrate when you’ve grown up in a relatively prosperous, safe and privileged society like modern America, which does not prepare us well for the very real awe and terror of the gods.

Also, I can’t forget that I’m sworn and married to a trickster who, despite His humorous, playful side, is also a thief, a liar, a killer and a stirrer of shit for His friends as well as His enemies. These are sides to Loki that are difficult for me to acknowledge even though I love Him very much. I have struggled with the knowledge that He has some less-than-admirable characteristics which cannot be rationalized or explained away by a creative interpretation of the primary sources or wishful thinking. I have been the victim of some of those unadmirable characteristics, too – rarely, but often enough to leave a lasting impact. But I believe that if you truly love someone, god or mortal, you will accept them as they really are, and my love for Loki never wavers even if my anguish about Him sometimes comes between us.

There have been times in the past few years when, overcome by a sense of panic, I’ve sought to protect myself from fear of the gods by turning to other things – temporary distractions that never provided that sense of wholeness or satisfaction. Eventually, I realized that the thing I was trying to avoid would and did always come to stand squarely in front of me, where I’d have to face it rather than running away. The thing about worshiping deities that are conscious entities with wills of Their own is that They might let us get away with our bullshit for only so long. Sooner or later They can force us to confront the nasty thing we’d rather not confront, if They have a mind to – and if you’re a monastic dedicated to Their service, They’ve usually got a mind to. This is why I cannot really fault Heathens who are determined to have as little to do with the gods as possible, much as I might dislike their sometimes arrogant rationalizations for so doing. I know what kind of wreckage can ensue in your life as a result of sustained contact with meddling beings who are more powerful and far-seeing than you, and I don’t blame anybody for wanting to avoid that.

I no longer distract myself with things like eccentric, far-fetched hobbies or obsessing over collecting some comic book’s entire run instead of spending that time and energy giving the Holy Ones, and my Beloved, what is Their rightful due. But like Sister Julie, I still experience occasional twinges of longing for a “normal” life, and it isn’t always out of fear. Sometimes it’s just wondering what might have been. Fortunately, that grows easier to ignore the harder I strive and the more time passes. However, I would be very surprised if, when I am old and experienced, I cease to wonder what my life might’ve been like had things happened otherwise. I think that’s only natural, to consider where other roads might have led. The trick is not to let those roads not taken fill your vision so that you can’t see the one you’re really on.

I did not come to being a Pagan nun because I was unable to cope with “real” life – I have held positions of responsibility and had relationships before all this began. I came to it because it is what I was meant to be in this lifetime. I may not have a dedicated monastic community like most Christian or Buddhist monks and nuns, but I do have community – friends and family who understand and sympathize with my outlook even if they do not share my vocation. The feeling of loneliness I sometimes have mostly come from human frailty, which is the biggest obstacle that prevents me from letting the gods fill Their rightful place in my heart. Fortunately, it is an obstacle that can be overcome, given enough time and effort.

A Look at Daily Devotions November 9, 2008

I feel that doing daily acts of devotion is something that ought to be part and parcel of my life as a Pagan nun. It’s good to have reasons for doing things rather than just assuming “that’s just what monastics do.” Here they are:

Devotional activities re-emphasize monastic values. Prayer, making offerings and so forth are a celebratory and contemplative expression of faith, even when performed alone. They cause one to remain mindful, and they require the sacrifice of time and resources that might otherwise be spent on different pursuits. They are an act of service to the gods as one directs attention and energy to Them. I can’t easily forget the bedrock of values on which is built the Rule I aspire to create, not when I’m doing things every day that are a continual reminder of those values.

Doing set activities every day teaches self-discipline. This is particularly difficult since I have no community with which to, say, rise at dawn and utter praise to Sunna, or to join in a prayer of thanksgiving to Frey and Nerthus when the garden yields up a ton of tomatoes. Some of my housemates would happily join me in these activities…but not every day, and it isn’t the same as having other dedicated monastics around. It’s far easier to stick to a daily schedule of prayer, work and ritual when there are thirty of you doing it all at once, rather than one of you doing it amidst the clutter and chaos of a household shared with five other adults with their own pursuits.

It’s my job. While I don’t believe that Loki or any of the other gods needs my worship or faith in order to survive, neither do I believe that giving these things to Them is a wasted, unwelcome effort. Just as the job of a shaman is to cross between worlds on behalf of others, the job of a magician is to use sorcery to accomplish certain goals, and the job of a priest is to open a door and point the way through for the congregation, so the job of a monastic is to provide a continuous supply of devotion and love for the gods s/he serves. While I’m a priestess and a spirit-worker as well, the former roles only happen on specific occasions. Most of the time, I’m a nun, albeit a sloppy and undisciplined one.

So what kind of daily devotions am I doing…or ought to be doing? Well, prayer is first on my list. As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I have a beautiful set of beads and a series of prayers that go with them. It is my goal to say those prayers at least once a day, preferably in the morning after awakening, since I’ve found to my dismay that I’ll often fall asleep in the middle of them if I wait until too late at night. I append the regular series of prayers with petitions on behalf of others, expressions of joy and gratitude, and special prayers addressed to my Beloved. Although my relationship with Loki is shockingly familiar and very close, I don’t see that as any reason not to address Him formally and with the respect I show the other gods, when it seems right to do so.

Second is yoga. I can just imagine the shudders of horror from strict recons! No, it’s not Norse or Germanic. Yes, calling it part of my allegedly Northern European-based monastic practice probably smacks of eclecticism and “cultural misappropriation.” But I want and need a daily activity that not only helps me center and focus myself, since I tend to be scatterbrained, but something that will reinforce my physical awareness, which varies from middling to low. Yoga works really well for both of these. Trying to do each successive pose perfectly and transition gracefully between them is a never-ending challenge. Generally I’ve done Sun Salutations or Great Saluations every day, although I’m going to give Astanga yoga another try despite a somewhat inauspicious initial attempt. I attend a yoga/Pilates combo class twice a week, but that’s more for the sake of getting a workout than as a meditative activity, since it involves sweating, mild cursing and loud pop music in a gymnasium. Another activity I sometimes use for the same purpose as yoga is traditional-style field archery, which likewise depends on form, economy of movement, focus and awareness. Any sort of martial art would probably provide the same effect.

Third, there are the mundane daily chores. I live in a shared household with five other people, all of whom are grown adults but most of whom are too busy, lazy or distracted to attend to things like cleaning up after themselves. I’m responsible for the general cleanliness of the kitchen and I do about half the cooking that goes on, mostly at dinnertime. My original share of the household chores was merely to wash the dishes, so the rest is completely voluntary. I try very hard not to be self-righteous nor to get too irritable when I have to sweep crumbs off the table for the hundredth time, because nobody’s forcing me to do any of this (although my housemates have expressed their gratitude many times). I do it because service is an important monastic value of mine, and I have few other means to express that in a community setting. If nothing else, washing up, sweeping the floor and putting a myriad of small items away every day teaches me to be more mindful and instills self-discipline I might not otherwise have. (Ironically, I’m much more conscientious about this than I am about praying, which is very sad.)

And that’s mostly it. Doing these few things actually takes more time than you’d think. I suppose it doesn’t sound like a whole lot when you’ve heard of monks from other traditions chanting all night then rising at dawn to walk the streets so that the faithful can give them food, or hermits going off to live in isolated huts and spend hours at a time on their knees praying, fasting and beating themselves with whips. But I’m comparatively new at this, solitary, and without much of a social or cultural context to draw from, so this is where I’m starting.

There are other activities that don’t necessarily happen every single day. I make offerings to ancestors and to the land-wight and other spirits. I have a small harrow (altar) for Loki in my room which I keep clean, dust-free and supplied with fresh candles, incense and offerings such as He requires. There are also many god-poles, shrines and altars in the house and around the property where I live. Some of these are to foreign deities I do not know, but there are many dedicated to Norse gods and wights, and these I consider it my duty to make sure are clean, free of debris or trash, and in good repair, with no dried-up, stinky old offerings laying around, unless that’s what They want, of course.

I also sing in the choir and attend rituals for Asphodel, an eclectic Neo-Pagan church founded by my housemates, and I participate in rituals and plan events for Iron Wood Kindred, of which I am the gydja. There have been a number of occasions on which I was forced to act as a priest without any warning, usually when counseling someone in a crisis. I give also readings and do trancework for folks from time to time, and I spend a certain amount of time writing about religious stuff, mostly nonfiction essays or devotional poetry. (I’m not sure if writing pornography exactly counts as a devotional act even when it’s based on Himself, but hey, at least it’s not contrary to my faith or my vocation, and it pays reasonably well.) The rest of my time is spent looking after personal matters (laundry, doctor’s visits), other household matters (shopping for food) or doing something recreational (watching movies, reading, surfing the Internet).

I think a well-balanced life is important even if you are a nun and spend most of your working hours in religious pursuits, so in writing the Rule, I’m going to stipulate that there ought to be times for physical exercise and recreational activities as well as devotional activities, rituals, work, eating and sleeping. Also, since Pagan monastics are not necessarily celibate or unattached, there should also be time allotted for being with lovers, though this could come under the aegis of “recreational” or general free time, I guess. For a god-consort like me, it isn’t an issue since spending time with my significant Other is in itself a devotional practice. I should hope, however, that if one decides to become a monastic, one’s significant other(s) are copacetic with having to take second place to their lover’s new vocation (ask any shaman you meet about the dubious joys of this situation.) And I wouldn’t expect someone with young children to embark upon this life, as those children need to come first at all times until they are grown and independent. Being a monk or nun requires a full-time dedication that a parent is not at liberty to offer.

But these last are topics I can address at another time. Now, I need to go downstairs and start washing dishes.

Why? November 5, 2008

I haven’t updated in a couple of weeks because I’ve been sick, but also wrestling with a few personal issues that all came to the forefront of my awareness at the same time, as these things generally happen. So I’ve not been feeling exactly devoted or motivated lately. Rather than go into that (and this really isn’t an appropriate venue), I’m going to indulge myself by making a list of all the reasons why I believe my life is better than it was five and a half years ago, before Loki and the other gods came into it, and why I continue with my vocation in spite of everything. I’d be surprised if I don’t end up coming back to this list in future when I need to be reminded of certain things.

Why do I do this? Why am I a nun, or at least striving to be one? Why do I continue even though I often feel as if I’m groping blindly in the dark with no clear idea of where to go from here?

1. I believe that there is a place for this kind of practice within Norse-based Paganism despite the lack of precedent in the primary written records or archaeological data for a pre-Christian monastic tradition.
2. I am, so far as I know, the only person who is currently attempting to develop a monastic Rule and accompanying contextual “tradition” grounded in a Norse/Germanic pagan faith. (If there are others out there, I’d love to hear from you. It is often a lonely path, this Lokean nun business.)
3. This is how my gods have decreed I will live my life.
4. Being public and open about this process is something They also require of me.
5. Doing this may inspire others to take up this vocation and add their work and insights to the development of the same or a similar way.
6. My role as Loki’s priestess and consort is at the center of my life, and being a nun provides endless opportunities to give Him the love, honor and respect He deserves.
7. I need to develop a devotional lifestyle that will allow me to serve my gods and my community as I have been called to do, and to learn to better understand Them, the other forces that affect the universe, and my place within it all.
8. Even if I’m the only Northern Tradition nun of my generation and I die a solitary monastic because no one else is interested in this sort of life, the work I’ve done will (I hope) still exist for the benefit of those who come after me.
9. The more I work on spiritual discipline, the better I understand why it’s necessary, and the more I actively engage (as opposed to passively doing as I’m Told) in a devotional life, the more relevant and useful the practices become. This is the right way for me.
10. I’ve always had a thing for cassocks. Heh.