I’ve recently spent a week in retreat and a huge insight came up as I was contemplating why I’m struggling to feel I’m of value and to stand in my truth as a nun, not only in polytheist and shamanic groups but in my local community. 

I realised this is firstly because I’m not a cloistered nun and secondly that, although I’ve tried on the role of a lay nun, this doesn’t truly fit either. I’m not naturally a community person. I’m not naturally an active. I’m not smily and sociable. This is not only because I’m autistic and struggle with social anxiety but because my soul has a deep need for solitude and silence – it hurts when that state of being is broken by the social demands for polite conversation and small talk.

One sign that I was forcing myself to do the wrong thing by trying to be a community person was the problems I experienced when I tried running in-person shamanic circles (something I felt I should do but was not told to by my Gods). I had to cancel the first one at Galloways, a lovely venue that was formerly a home for the blind, due to the extremely cold weather in January. After this, the numbers were good for one circle, then dwindled, meaning we couldn’t afford the room. When I tried co-organising another at the Education Hut in Greencroft Valley, where I’ve been conservation volunteering for thirteen years, it was very stressful due to being weather-dependent as based in a woodland and was called off due to a storm. 

Ok, I admitted to the Gods, I’m not meant to be running in-person circles. If I don’t listen next time, you’ll send something worse than cold and ice and a minor storm. In retrospect, I could see they were safeguarding me from the stress of organising people to do things (my main trigger for burnout) along with the discomforts of making small talk at the beginning and end and co-ordinating the group drumming (which really hurt my head!). I realised I’d be able to mask for a certain amount of time, but long term, the attendees would perceive how uncomfortable I am in community.

As I sat with these thoughts, I received the gnosis ‘the truth is I’m a hermit’. It’s risen from within before and has been repeated by the people who really know me. I’ve shrugged it off again and again as I haven’t felt hermit-like enough. I run an online monastery. I’m training to be a shamanic practitioner. I go to the gym. 

When I looked into this, I found there were no rules that prevented a hermit from going to the gym. Most hermits are expected to support themselves by work that fits with leading a prayerful solitary life, and being a shamanic practitioner does. And it is possible for a hermit to found and run a monastery that accommodates an eremitic lifestyle as exemplified by St Romauld and the Camaldolese order.

So, I realised, I can be a hermit nun. This thought made me feel incredibly happy and at peace with myself. It made me think of all the times I’ve drawn the Hooded Man in the Wildwood Tarot, ‘my old friend’, and felt the deepest of kinships. 

Finally, I can stand in my truth when people ask me what I do without feeling I need to put on pretences to be a smily sociable lay nun but can explain I am a hermit nun and that silence and solitude are intrinsic to my role.

For the first time in my life, my nature and vocation are at one.