A Poustinik in Training

(The Poustinik Epistles #1) My Vision (with a little backstory)

January 17th, Feast of St. Anthony the Great - First Desert Father, and Father of Monasticism.

On this Feast Day, it actually does seem “fitting” to share this vision with you all. I didn’t plan on a post this morning, but here we are!

I had a dream in March 2025.

Avery Tillmon

In it, I was talking to my friend Derek and Fr. Jason Charron after having eaten a regular meal. They were explaining to me “the importance of Poustinia after eating meals.” About the “importance of rest after eating meals.” It was a short but poignant dream.

Of course, I know Poustinia is not typically connected to meals in such a way; typically it refers to a spiritual retreat. Poustinia is simply Russian for “Desert.”

I brought up the dream to said Derek, and he shared a neat insight: in a sense, it is true that we do need Poustinia… after The Meal.

The Eucharistic Meal. (And of course, Sabbath is a day of Rest.)

After this, I googled “Poustinia” for any readings on the topic, having been inspired by the dream and our conversation, and

lo and behold! I came across this book:

At the time I didn’t know anything about Catherine, didn’t know anything about the book.

But it was the only book by that title, and the cover art and description called to me.

(For anyone following me for any length of time, you will know a big part of my conversion is related to these desert (really, Christian) concepts of Silence, Solitude, Contemplation.)

I’d heard before the word “poustinia” from Mother Natalia (Byzantine Catholic Nun), and other Eastern Catholic literature. But I hadn’t heard much about the life of a “poustinik.” Or the heritage of “poustinia.”

Well, not only is Catherine of Russian heritage… she converted to Catholicism: which spiritually mirrors my own path; I was brought into the ancient faith traditions through Russian Orthodoxy via St. Theophan the Recluse, was discerning Russian Orthodoxy before Catholicism, but ultimately by God’s Providence fell into the bosom of Mother Church.

Essentially, her book dives into the heritage of the poustinik - one who have poustinia as their lifetime vocation - and how it can and does translate into contemporary Christian life.

“In Russia poustiniks were called staretz (or staritza for a woman), meaning the “old one” or the “wise one,” even though they had gone into the poustinia around the age of 30 or 35, and were not necessarily old in age. Some were older, and were people who had been married, had reared their children, and then felt the attraction of the desert. But the majority seemed to have entered poustinia when they were around 30 to 40 years old.” Page 16

I turned 34 this January 4th.

I had given the hope and attempt of marriage one last try, last year.

I genuinely felt he was placed in my life for this purpose; there were countless intricate synchronicities that arose. However, there were also many signs that pointed he was Providentially placed in my life for other reasons, for which I am grateful. Of course, I pray for him daily including prayers that he actively seek the Peace of Christ in his life. And thank him and Christ for the spiritual growth I underwent throughout our relationship. And ask his forgiveness for the unintended harms I caused him. God knows his prayers for me, too.

Yes, I am still young and have a few years remaining for childbearing.

But I came to the realize that Christ has been pursuing me early, and patiently seeing me through my sinful decisions. I have gradually and finally come to trust my innermost call to live singly for Him and in service to His Kingdom.

Almost everything (if not everything) about Poustinia feels like my “song.”

Passages such as this, spoke directly to me:

“There was some kind of difference [between a poustinik and a hermit]. The poustinik seemed to be more available. There was a gracious hospitality about him, as if he were never disturbed by anyone who came to visit him… He seemed to be a listening person. A person of few words, but his listening was deep, and there was a feeling that he understood… he didn’t demand anything from anyone for himself.

He was available in other ways. If someone from the village was in need… [the person in need] rushed over to the poustinik and asked his help. The poustinik immediately dropped everything and went with the farmer. He was always available.” Page 15, 16

This encompasses exactly the type of woman I desire to become.

I am far from this yet.

I sometimes feel inconvenienced when called upon to help.

I know that I talk too much when I’m with others. And interrupt. And make assumptions more than adopt curiosity.

And I make a terrible hostess. I know, practice makes perfect. But I think hospitality has more to do with the heart than “practices” or “amenities.” And I recognize my heart needs much training. I suspect and hope that my time as a women’s advocate at my local pregnancy center will assist me in this.

But I also know that the Holy Spirit delights in perfecting us, if we are willing to listen to Him and obey. (Obedience means “to listen deeply.”)

I daily pray for Christ to:

“make me ‘dumb’: that I may listen deeply, and learn well.”

Perhaps such a prayer is severe to some, but it is what I need. And I have been experiencing according divine assistance.

And so while I have a long way to go on this Poustinik’s path; I also know that God is mercifully patient and kind. He gives me (and you) a walking staff for the Way.

All this is to say: I have a vision for my call as Poustinik.

I have a “huge” vision. A “big” vision. A “sizeable” vision. A “tomorrow” vision. And a “today” vision.

My “today” vision - meaning: what I can begin sooner than later - is simple:

Begin camping this upcoming year!

Camping as another Poustinia Training Grounds

a local campground

“The person who follows the call to the poustinia and who leaves everything behind relies on the help of his fellowmen. He becomes in reality a beggar. In Russia, when a village knew that a hermit was going to dwell in some abandoned hut or one that he would come to beg them to help build, they were glad. It means that there was someone praying for them. So the poustinik usually selected a spot in a clearing in the woods. He sought the really hidden places of his world - mountains, forests, woods - places where he was really alone with God.” Page 26

I know being a poustinik is more than just about “going off into the literal desert” (or woods). It is a frame of mind and heart. As Catherine explains, some have a “poustinia” set apart in their home. (When I was a child, when I was far before becoming Catholic or even knowing about monk/nun “cells,” I made a “poustinia” in my closet. And today, have a prayer altar at the center of my living room, which is my home poustinia.

I also see my time at the local pregnancy center as a key training grounds for my spiritual (really, my holistic) maturation.

But it simply gives me joy to think about taking a “poustinia” trip to the woods every so often this summer. Gives life in my bones.

I remember a couple camping trips growing up. We caught more turtles than fish in the lake by our usual campsite.

My “Tomorrow” vision is to eventually have a camper, or utility trailer (eventually converted to a camper). I have my eyes out, but I am not in a rush for this. (My current vehicle is paid off, so I don’t like the idea of willingly jumping into debt again.)

My “Today” vision includes me simply taking my car and camping supplies to whatever campground or location in the National Forest … and taking the time for silence, solitude, and prayer.

• Reading Scripture.

• Praying, including hopefully from pages of prayer requests collected from you all here.

• Walking. Lots of walking!

• Biking.

• Maybe fishing.

• Maybe some rudimentary whittling; and crafting of rosaries.

• Making freeze-dried meals, cooking up fish, and brewing French press coffee (it’s like Cowboy coffee… without the grounds).

• Maybe eventually, even meeting other campers and having wholesome conversations around the campfire.

• Coming home smelling like a campfire.

• Making late-morning Sunday Mass after doing my best removing said campfire smells. :)

I need to begin preparing!

The first location I have in mind is a campground (as opposed to what we call around here, “the Barrens” which is essentially the National Forest).

I figured it is best for me to begin on “SUPER EASY MODE”: campground camping. And not only campground camping… the campground my family usually used. The Campground I’m most familiar with.

It opens in May!

It is January, but May will be here in no time.

I wasn’t going to share this vision until I started it… but I think writing about it and sharing about it will help keep my mind forward-thinking, lighten the long “winter blahs” (I don’t usually get the blues, but I do get the “blahs”), and maybe even help some of you consider doing the same.

Maybe you can say a prayer for me?

Shepherding the Holy Spirit your way in prayer ~

~ a shepherdess in the Fray

Vicki Shuck