[[Sister Laurel, is it possible to be a hermit in the Catholic Church and not be subject to any institutionalization or any canon law? Would this be a greater degree of freedom than canonical status allows for?]]
Thanks for the question. If you are speaking of canons which directly refer to eremitical life, yes one can be a non-canonical or lay hermit, that is, a person embracing eremitical life in the lay state. However, to the extent one is a baptized Catholic and in the lay state, one is still subject to canon law and there are still requirements which apply to every person in the Church by virtue of their baptism. That means every person belonging to the Church will be subject to some degree of "institutionalization" if by this you mean the responsibilities and praxis which are part and parcel of belonging to an institution. If one wants no part of this one would need to leave the Church.
The question regarding the degree of freedom of one state vs the other one seems naïve to me. It is also misleading and gets one off immediately on the wrong foot. Again, freedom in Catholic theology is the power to become and be the persons we are called to be. Thus, if one is called by God to achieve authentic humanity in the eremitical life one will need to discern whether one is called to do this in the lay or the consecrated state. In other words one will discern which one is the way of greater authentic freedom. For those called to consecrated eremitical life the greater number of canonical rights and obligations will not result in less but in greater freedom. For those called to eremitical life in the lay state, the canonical obligations of the consecrated state might be onerous.
If you have read earlier posts you will remember the example I gave of learning to play violin. Training the hands, fingers, wrists and arms, as well as the ear and heart and mind to function in all the ways needed to play real music and to transcend the printed page (while one honors that at the same time) takes a lot of work and involves a tremendous number of constraints. For the beginner these seem onerous, but as time goes on more and more one will begin to experience a kind of freedom to make music beyond what one could have even imagined was possible. The constraints remain precisely because they are the vehicle through which one is enabled to transcend one's own inabilities and limitations and release the potentiality one has for tapping into the music which sings through oneself and the universe. At this point they no longer feel like constraints; they are the wings with which we fly. In mastering (and thus, honoring) these constraints, one and one's violin become a single instrument attuned to and capable of mediating the miracle we call music, but also, therefore, the realities we identify as God, love, beauty, truth, order, harmony, disharmony, meaning, humanity, pain, joy, grief, and so many associated emotions and sensations. Constraints or limitations are necessary for transcendence to be realized; they are an intrinsic part of authentic freedom.
When I was discerning between lay eremitical and consecrated eremitical life, lay eremitical life seemed to me to represent less authentic freedom than canonical eremitical life. This was partly because of the way the world at large militated against the eremitical life. A context within which eremitical life could be lived fully and where it was truly valued seemed necessary if I was to live it as I felt called to do in the face of the world's enmity or lack of understanding --- and also in the face of the common stereotypes and caricatures of hermits we find everywhere --- including in the church. Remember that to some extent this is what the desert Abbas and Ammas also sought in their attempt to live a radical Christianity. They sought a more stringent and (in its own way) supportive environment for their "white martyrdom" than the "anything goes" world in which Christianity had come to belong "all too well".
I was also sure that I was called to live this life as a gift of the Holy Spirit to the Church for the sake of others, and I felt less free to live that in a non-canonical state. Fortunately, the Church agreed with this discernment and admitted me to profession and consecration --- something which continues to serve as a significant element of genuine freedom to explore the depths and breadth of this life --- especially when there are difficulties which lead to some degree of self-doubt. Others will, quite validly, make a very different discernments and decisions. The bottom line here is that authentic freedom is related to what one is called to by God; it cannot be determined merely by measuring the number or type of norms to which one will be subject. To proceed in that way is merely to ensure one never even takes the violin out of the case, much less risks discovering and slowly coming to the incredible freedom God offers in learning to negotiate the constraints which eventuate in the transcendent realm of union with Godself.