It is late and I am tired, so this is somewhat rambly. Here’s hoping the point is made anyway.
This week I’m going to attend a small gathering where I have volunteered to do some of the cooking for the entire camp. Specifically, I am making breakfast for everyone and lunch and dinner for the vegetarian/vegan attendees. This is the first time I’ve been to this gathering and I am largely unfamiliar with the sponsoring group as well, so I’m a bit wary. I’m also not exactly a member of what you’d call the target demographic; the event is primarily aimed at transmasculine people, whereas I am somewhat female of center. Nevertheless, this was something I chose to do because I felt it’d be a good experience, and it was a good excuse to go camping in the mountains and spend my non-cooking hours doing nothing. (These days if I get to leave the house for an extended period it’s probably connected with my work in some way.)
It is hard to be a monastic and not have a community of like-minded individuals — many solitaries have teachers and even the early desert fathers and mothers of Chrisitian tradition had elders to advise them whether or not they lived in isolated huts in the desert. I personally do not know any other Pagan monks or nuns, although I know they exist. Sometimes I even wish I were Catholic or Buddhist, not because I want to give up my religion and my relationship with Himself, but because of the fellowship and support to be found in a community of fellow monastics all devoted to the same religious calling. If I want a sense of community I need to look elsewhere. Fortunately, as I mentioned, I don’t have to look very far.
Some of the same people I’ve seen at spiritwork events, Pagan events and kink events are going to be at this one. Others who were in attendance at one or the other of those wouldn’t be caught dead at this particular gathering, or are at best totally uninterested. I suppose from one standpoint, the fact that I don’t move in the same circles with the same people is a liability — perhaps even more of a liability for a nun than for a lay person. However, rather than feeling deprived because my community is so fragmented, with such varying interests, I feel that my life is enriched by having so many friends and colleagues whose interests may or may not overlap.
Admittedly I am not always consistent or gracious about it, but I can’t use the excuse that opportunities don’t exist right here at home and that in order to be of service to other people I need to travel all the way to West Virginia, as I’m doing later this week. There’s my household, which currently consists of me, three housemates and a plethora of animals, including a highly energetic dog who needs lots of attention and exercise. There’s my geographic community — the semi-rural neighborhood and the town where I live. There’s the aforementioned Neo-Pagan church, and also the exclusively Norse/Germanic kindred I helped found. There are the friends and colleagues I know who are shamans, diviners, magicians and other technicians of the occult from various traditions. There’s the kink community, of which I am but a peripheral member — but hey, I get a kick out of hearing stories from my friends. There are other god-spouses and other Lokeans, many of whom have been kind enough to say nice things about Trickster, My Beloved. I can’t say that I serve one or another of these groups than I serve the rest, or that the lines between them are neatly drawn, or that the service is all the same. Most of the time it’s something They have requested that I do, and how it might help other people isn’t clear to me until it’s long finished.
Would I be as involved in “worldly” things if I was part of an established Pagan monastic tradition? Probably not. But as one of my other jobs is to act as a priestess when called to do so (which happens more often than you’d think) retreating entirely from the rest of the world isn’t an option for me. I have to be available to a certain extent, and I have to be just as willing to be of service as I am when it’s all my idea, or when I can clearly see how beneficial my service is to others. I have a harder time seeing that as a priest, and often the things I do in that capacity take longer to come to fruition.
And, of course, my primary obligation of service is to Loki and Hela. In fact, many times when I do service to others I serve Them as well, often unwittingly. (Little did I know that Loki would later use my devotional to woo other consorts to His side, for instance.) Knowing that, however, often makes hard tasks easier and takes the sting off of the unhappy but inevitable lack of acknowledgement or thanks that happens from time to time. I know it isn’t all about me, but it’s natural to want to have one’s efforts recognized, and when they aren’t, I have to remember that ultimately I am working for Her Ladyship, or doing something to please Himself. And in that light, it hardly matters whether or not I am part of a community of fellow religious, because They often send me where I am most needed and useful…even if it’s not necessarily what I might have chosen to do myself.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that, since I’m not part of a monastic community and do have to do priestly duties from time to time, my focus has to be on service. At the same time, I have to be a part of various communities without prioritizing any of them over my religious calling. That can be really difficult to pull off all the time. But then, I expect that I wouldn’t have found myself in this situation if it wasn’t good for me in some way to learn to grapple with it, and it’s not my gods’ responsibility to make sure I can do my job correctly. It’s mine. And if that means taking a 14 hour drive to make pancakes for a bunch of strangers next a weekend, I suppose it’ll be what they call a “learning experience” no matter which way it falls out.
