I am a seeker. I am not a leader. I am not a follower. I am not a group joiner, nor someone drawn to hierarchy, titles, or authority. For 33 years I have walked my Norse Pagan path alone, not because I feel rejected or isolated—but because that is the way I like it. It is where the voices of the gods, goddesses, ancestors, and spirits speak clearest to me—beneath trees, beside fire, under the stars, and within my own spirit.

I am not here to teach anyone, at least not in the traditional sense. I am not looking for students. I do not charge for spiritual knowledge. I do not offer courses, mentorship, or magickal services. I do not belong to any Norse Pagan organization, nor do I wish to. I have no interest in becoming a recognized figure within the community, and I avoid every kind of spiritual celebrity, priesthood, or gatekeeping.

What I do is share. I speak my own truths, not because I think they are the only truths, but because they are mine. If they inspire you, then I am honored. But I am not your guide. The gods are your guide. The ancestors, the spirits, the land—they will whisper to you as they whisper to me. Your path is your own, just as mine is mine.

I do not disclose my email. I do not offer chat features. I do not run a Discord, a Facebook group, or a community forum. I used to offer tarot card readings, but that was many years ago, mostly only in person, rarely online, but that is not my path in my current life. I do not reply to comments on my blog, and I rarely even approve them. I don’t want conversation in the digital noise. I want connection in the quiet depths of the unseen world. On occasion, I may share an article by someone else, but only if I resonate with it fully, not to argue or criticize. I don’t generally leave comments elsewhere, because I don’t seek to debate, only to witness.

The way I walk is not lonely—it is solitary. I walk with the gods. I walk with the ancestors. I walk with the unseen folk of the forests and streams. I walk with a few rare kindred spirits I’ve met over the years—those who, like me, do not seek to organize or define the path of others, but who simply live it, quietly and reverently.

I do not think Norse Paganism should be a business. I do not think it should be a popularity contest. It should not be a war of words, or a race for prestige. It is a living mystery—raw, wild, and sacred. It belongs to no one. It is not found in clout, credentials, or influence, but in the whisper of a god in the stillness of the night. It is found in the feeling that something ancient is watching you with love and power as you pour mead to the earth. It is found in the goosebumps when you hear the wind speak your name.

So no, I do not lead. I do not follow. I do not gather crowds. I do not offer roles or responsibilities. I do not seek to be someone in the “community.” I am simply myself. A seeker. A mystic. A silent companion to the divine, walking alone on the wild, rune-marked path I was born to walk.

And to those who feel the same calling: I see you. From afar. And I raise my horn in quiet respect.

Hail the gods. Hail the spirits. Hail the ancestors.
And hail to those who walk in solitude.