At this point in time, I’m unsure whether or not I’m ever going to actually write a Rule. Perhaps that is going to be a job for someone else — someone who doesn’t serve a trickster god. Someone whose luck runs straight and evenly, not in feast-or-famine jolts and spurts. Someone whose fulltrui are more steadfast and less…well, tricksterish. Someone who doesn’t have to budget for candy and sex toy purchases as devotional offerings.
That doesn’t mean I’m off the hook as far as my vocation goes. I’m still a nun, even if I’m just a lone religious toiling away washing dishes and counseling folks over the phone and doing trancework for clients in my little room at the top of the stairs. I still have my duty to my gods, a large part of which duty is giving Loki whatever devotion, attention, love and (let’s face it) entertainment a mortal can provide for one such as Him. But I have begun to wonder if, considering the directions in which I’ve recently been pushed, becoming some sort of Nordic Pagan equivalent of St. Benedict is what the gods truly want of me.
One of the things that came with being Loki’s wife and priestess is that in some way, I am always an exception to the rule. That’s not nearly as fun or exciting as it sounds. What people don’t understand about archetypal roles like Trickster is that you don’t get to choose how or when that manifests. You have no control over how others react to you or treat you for your inability to fit in. You cannot just stop being “different” when it’s convenient or when you’ve grown tired of it and want to do something else. And you do not get to escape consequence. You pay for your deeds just as everybody else does. It is a lot less about being a unique and beautiful snowflake and a lot more about being constantly pushed and pulled in various directions than many people would like to think.
Honestly, every time I hear some self-proclaimed Lokean CHILDE OV KAOS bragging about how s/he exists to “show other people their limitations” or “destroy their illusions” (never in the most common way, which is by being a fool and a bad example to others) I want to choke ‘em. Living somewhere between innengard and utgard at all times isn’t all about getting away with mischief, trickery or plain old shit-stirring whenever you want. It’s about never quite belonging, never quite fitting in, and never quite having a place that you can truly call home. And that, as a day to day reality rather than an adolescent conceit, is a harsh thing to face for those who actually live that life.
I learned this from one who knows about it better than others in His pantheon do, because Loki’s own liminality is both His strength and His weakness. Being sworn and bonded to Him has meant that I have, inadvertently, taken on some of His wyrd, and because of that, I find myself to be a liminal figure in many ways.
I’m the sole non-transgendered person in a household of transgendered people. I’m constantly being mistaken for a male and being called “sir” despite the fact that I do not present as male. I am pansexual, but gay people usually assume I’m straight, while straight people often assume I’m gay. While I am proud of my diverse ethnic heritage, I was not raised with the traditions of either my Southeast Asian or Native American ancestors, which sometimes makes me sad. Ironically, although I have an ancestral claim to Heathenry through my English and German ancestors, if you care about such things, I’ve encountered hostility from some folks because apparently I’m not quite European enough. I’m not a Heathen, for that matter, but neither do I consider myself a Neo-Pagan, whatever other people’s definitions may be, and am not strongly allied to either community. I’m married to one whose presence permeates my life, my heart and soul, my thoughts and dreams, to an extent that many lovers can only dream of…yet I’ve only physically held Him in my arms once in the nearly six years that I have been His. And I am a nun without a community, an anchorite and an eremetic in a religious milieu that lacks proof of historical precedent for folks like me.
I draw a great deal of strength from the lack of absolutes in my life. I can adapt to almost any environment and get along with a wide variety of people. I am not xenophobic or neophobic. However, I’m a mortal just like everyone else, and there are things that come with living in a human body, like a sense of belonging, or wanting to share things in common, which I am often denied. I am never quite an outcast, never wholly in the utgard, but neither am I really a part of the family or tribe, a full member of the innegard. It is hard, and often lonely.
The point I’m trying to make here is not that people should pity me, or fear dealing with liminality at all. There is a great deal of power to be had in being neither one thing nor another. I’m not complaining about my life — it’s no better or worse than most people’s lives, even if it is stranger. But because I am Loki’s, not the servant of some other deity, and because I am who I am, I do wonder if writing a document which should serve as a firm and steady foundation for a monastic tradition-to-be is really the job of a trickster’s consort, or best left to someone else.
Perhaps it’s too soon to tell. I’m a novice, as these things go, and even people like St. Benedict had to begin somewhere, after all. Perhaps in a few decades I will be eminently suited for that task. Or maybe someone else will have beaten me to it by then, and my wonderings now are unnecessary. However, if there is one thing that I’ve learned from being a Lokean, it’s that you cannot look to the future while ignoring what is right before you, here and now. So I will continue as I am — working at the tasks He and Hela have given me to do now, and trying to make the best of what I have. Whether or not I ever produce the foundation for a Nordic monastic tradition, I can make sure that my own life has a solid one…even if it looks nothing like what the lives of other nuns and monks look like.
Blessings to all of you for a safe, prosperous and happy 2009.
