Finding My Religion

Hiking and brunch.

View from Wachusett Mountain, MA. Photo by author (who was exhausted at this point)

The only times I remember being in church was for funerals.

I was baptized as a baby so I obviously have no recollection of that.

I had first communion when I was…um…clearly, I have no memory of that either.

Maybe there was a wedding ceremony or two?

I only remember the wedding receptions.

There was the time I went to some universal, inclusive, new-age church, but that was because I was in love in hoping to get laid.

The point is that I have never been a religious person.

But I realized that was because I didn’t find my religion.

I didn’t find the thing that gave me a greater purpose.

For me, that’s being in the outdoors and drinking.

Every Sunday, I venture out in the morning for a hike at either a familiar place or to explore a new park.

I’ll be out there for hours listening to music, or a podcast, or an audio book that I’ll never finish.

I sometimes try and be alone with my thoughts.

But oh boy…that can take a turn to the dark side.

Should I give up on dating aps and try speed dating or something?