This is My Religion

Lately I have been thinking about religion. Two months ago I stopped by St. Mary's church on my way home from work, dragged my daughter through the church basement, up past the after school program, across the parking lot and into the rectory offices demanding to know when ccd started. I was like a woman possessed....but by what? Religion? Catholicism is something I am sentimenal about, not passionate about. I signed us up as part of the parish and left, never having returned since.

I thought about church, felt guilty about not attending. Wondered if I was somehow harming my daughter by not allowing her that foundation, questioned whether or not I could provide it for her from my own memory. I could tell her the bible stories, I reasoned. Selfishness set in. Why should I give up my time at the gym on Sunday mornings? Doesn't every person need to do something good for herself?

I lay in bed on Sunday morning, the whir of the ceiling fan and the sounds of the wind in the pines bringing me to consciousness. The gently moving Spring air stirred the tiny golden hairs on my arms and I turned over to see the man I love lying next to me. I listened to his breathing, deep and relaxed. My daughter was sound asleep in her room down the hall, and I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I didn't need to be sitting in a church pew, listening to someone tell me how to be a good person or how to save the world. I had my very own little world right next to me. This I realized...this is my religion.