Community

I've always been an introvert, a homebody, a loner. So community has never been something at the forefront of my mind. When I got interested in heathenry, however, community was a focal point of the religion. As I spent more time thinking about it, I realized that community is a crucial part of my life, even if I'm not a social butterfly.

The barn where I ride is a key community for me. Having been there close to 20 years at this point, they've known me since I was a kid. My role in that community has changed as I've grown up. I started out where my only job was to open and close the aisle doors for wheelbarrows to go in an out when they mucked stalls in the morning. I was about six or seven, and too short to be of much use for anything else. I remember the first time I could reach the hook to get my own reins. Later on, I bedded stalls, swept aisles, and was allowed to ride on my own. Those humble beginnings graduated into going to A-rated shows and being a head groom, working and showing others' horses, and coaching clients on the rail. My barn community is a second family, and one of the spaces that truly allowed me to become who I am today.

In less secular realms, I have been mostly limited to online communities. This is partially by choice and partially by circumstance. I wouldn't mind being involved with a live group, but my personality and schedule suits solitary practice just fine. Meanwhile, online communities give me a place to stay connected, share ideas, and challenge myself. Let's face it, without the internet, I'd probably still be agnostic.

I am part of different communities, and my roles are different in each of them. But heathenry has brought me a new appreciation for my dependence on others for support and affirmation. And despite my fierce independent streak, that is not a bad thing.