The 24 Rhythms of Hearth & Hinterland: The Way of Anamchara

Rhythm 1: A Relational Chord of Three Strands to Strengthen Your Spiritual Life

None of us can hope, with any confidence, to be reunited with the heart of the Creator on our own. It is a dangerous path, and one that very few have undertaken successfully.

It is tempting to romanticize the solitary mystic, journeying alone into the wilderness in search of the Divine. I’d even go so far as to say that it’s the prevailing image that has captured the imagination of those drawn to a monastic path. But that romantic vision is not the reality of the experience for any who attempt it, even those who are successful.

It is very often difficult, if not impossible, to be wholly and objectively honest with ourselves about ourselves. This is especially true when our minds, bodies, and spirits are at their weakest. There is far too much room for the shadowed accusers within us to either sooth us when we should be prescribed discipline or shame us when God’s mercy would set us free.

It is wiser to walk with others and more wiser still to find someone further along in their journey to act as a guide in our own advancement if we wish to grow, to be formed, and to find wholeness without too many avoidable missteps along the way.

“A person without a soul friend is like a body without a head.” - St. Brigid of Kildare

The tradition of the anamchara—the "soul friend"—has its roots in Celtic monasticism where it was used to describe a monk’s teacher, companion, or spiritual guide. This relationship was not one of mere acquaintance or casual mentorship. It was a deep, intentional companionship rooted in spiritual affection and mutual commitment.

The anamchara was someone who truly saw you, who deeply loved you, and who knew the condition of your soul. A spiritual partner willing to walk with you through the darkest nights and its brightest dawns.

St. Aelred of Rievaulx beautifully described this bond, saying, "Friendship is that virtue by which spirits are bound by ties of love and sweetness, and out of many are made one. To you I appeal, you who are my soul’s friend and partner in my pursuit of God."

The Way of Hearth & Hinterland teaches that each of us should have three anamchara, three soul friends, who shape and steady our spiritual lives.

The first should be a mentor, a more mature brother or sister who has walked the road ahead and can offer counsel, direction, and correction when needed.

Their wisdom is a safeguard against the folly of spiritual pride, the pitfalls of self-deception, and the isolation that often leads to despair. They give us more experienced steps on the path ahead to watch and to mirror. They remind us of the depth and breadth of spiritual life, calling us forward when we are stagnant and cautioning us when we rush ahead too quickly (Proverbs 27:17). This companion, in the ancient church, was referred to as a spiritual mother or father, and they were given some grace from their spiritual son or daughter to exercise spiritual authority in their life.

For many who have been hurt by those in spiritual authority, that could be a hard pill to swallow. And, surely, that authority should never be given lightly and only to the degree that you are comfortable–there is continued grace to those who are healing, and you should feel no pressure. Trust should be earned, not given lightly. But as you are able to trust, you should, knowing that if you can find this guide, you have found the ultimate treasure.

This guiding anamchara should be all the things you wish for a parent or older sibling while still holding space for them to be human. They should be loving, gentle, self-sacrificial, but bold enough to speak truth into your life when they see you headed down unprofitable paths. They should be someone who is aligned with your core values and beliefs, and most importantly, they should be someone who you want to emulate spiritually–someone in whom the grace of God plainly works through and is easily seen in the way they live their life daily (Matthew 7:15-20).

The second anamchara should be a spiritual companion, someone of similar age and spiritual maturity—one who walks beside us.

This friendship is one of mutual encouragement and shared struggle (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10). This anamchara is a mirror, revealing the parts of ourselves we might otherwise ignore, and a tether, keeping us grounded when the path ahead feels uncertain. This is the friend who reminds us to laugh, to breathe, to return to the simple joys of faith, and to weep when the weight of the world presses heavy upon us (1 Samuel 18:1-5). They might share the same spiritual father or mother, or not, but it is helpful if they are because you share the same experience and teachings.

While this soul friend may not offer us the wisdom of a spiritual father or mother (or even big brother or big sister), they do offer us a companionship that is equally necessary as we seek to live an embodied faith. They are a place to turn when the hearth changes to hinterland and the new wilderness seems too big to handle alone.

They sit with us in our grief and failing. They serve alongside us as we work to repair our communities. They are someone to have coffee with and bear your soul to without risk of judgment because they are often going through similar stages of life and learning.

And finally, when we are sufficiently mature, a third anamchara often appears or is assigned if you are in an intentional community—a spiritual son or daughter to guide, to offer counsel to, and to walk with from a place of earned experience. This relationship is a natural outpouring of a life well-formed in faith. As we are shaped, we become shapers. As we are guided, we become guides. As the nature writer Gary Snyder wrote, “In making the handle of an axe, by cutting wood with an axe, the model is indeed near at hand.”And in doing so, we do not merely serve another, but we ourselves are transformed by the fulfillment of Christ’s teachings (Galatians 6:2).

The act of this teaching, of discipling, of offering spiritual direction, refines and humbles us, preventing us from slipping into complacency or false security.

We do not guide from a place of completion, but from an ever-deepening understanding of our own need for grace. I have often found that the spiritual pre-requisite for being a spiritual guide for the first time is feeling completely inadequate to the task. Those who are eager for this role should be held in suspicion.

These three relationships—mentor, companion, and disciple—form a cord of three strands that strengthens the spiritual life, preventing it from fraying under the pressures of isolation, self-reliance, or spiritual stagnation (Ecclesiastes 4:12).

To live within the rhythm of anamchara is to reject the illusion of solitary sanctity. It is to choose, again and again, to walk together—to be vulnerable, accountable, and deeply known. It is to enter into the sacred work of mutual formation, knowing that, in the end, our paths are not just our own. They weave together into something greater, a tapestry of lives intertwined, bound together by love and the pursuit of the Creator.