It is Sunday. Something inside you wakes you up at 6:30 in the morning. You feel tired, broken, and sore but there's still an ember in your gut, there's still something inside of you that urges you to do something you haven't done in almost five years. You decide you will take your mother to church.
You were raised Catholic (yes, you're right, this is where your constant guilt comes from). You remember going to Catholic classes every night with your bible and your plaid shorts. You remember the way the other kids would pick on you. How they would push you down flights of stairs, punch you in the stomach, and tell you that you didn't belong there (later, you realize that they were probably racist).
At the time, you couldn't understand why they would beat up on you. "I don't get it. We all believe the same thing" you would think to yourself. After your Confirmation, you decided to leave your religious childhood behind. You only believed in yourself. You thought that religion/spirituality was stupid and that people who subscribed to it were dumb as well (you realize how close-minded this is now).
But today, you sit inside a Catholic Church. Hands still wet from the holy water you used to make the sign of the cross, knees aching under weight of your past, whispering what you remember from the Our Father under your breath. You look for meaning, peace, and the "light".
Unfortunately, you don't find it.
You leave the church with your mother feeling indifferent but not empty (the way you used to feel after Mass). You walk in the rain silently towards your parked car. Your mother breaks the silence and suggests you two should go to the closest diner and get breakfast and you agree (you never decline a free meal).
She knows you and asks how you're feeling. And like that, words start spilling from your mouth like liquid. You say you are more spiritual now than before. You tell her how you meditate every night before bed and every morning before work. You talk about how it helps your anxiety. You say things like: "lifeplan", "universe", and "cosmic".
You realize something as the sentences leave your lips: you are just as spiritual as your Catholic parents, you say this to your mother and she smiles. You realize you have been doing the same thing they have for the past year. The only difference is that you don't use words like: "God", "Jesus", or "Heaven".
You lift the cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip. You notice your mother smile at you (she's happy you've found a way to be spiritual on your own). You put the cup down on the table and realize you believe in something other than yourself. That peace, the meaning, and that "light" you were looking for an hour ago has finally been found and you feel at ease.
It's okay, you say to yourself. It's okay, you're happy (and that's all that really matters).