Many times I turn to writing to help seek out answers to what troubles me. I’ve found that seeing what’s in my head appear on the screen before me allows me to organize my thoughts and help me find what’s missing. The problem I’ve been having for a while is that there is something I’ve lost that I can’t seem to find. It’s something I’ve lost a little at a time over the years. I’m finding that part of me doesn’t want to search for it, but the other part of me seeks the comfort it brought to me in my youth. What I’m missing is my faith.
I was raised Jewish, and tonight marks the beginning of the Passover holiday. Of all the holidays in the Jewish faith, this one is very much rooted in tradition. There are traditions with rituals, with food, with song, with prayers and storytelling, and, mostly, with being surrounded by family and friends. While I appreciate the traditions, I’ve found it harder and harder over the years to blindly follow any religion that has failed to answer many of the questions I have, as my mind is very science-based in its logical thinking. I’ve also gone through a lot in trying and failing to have a family, being married and divorced, and don’t even get me started on the shenanigans of the dating world. So where does that leave me? Lost.
I’m going to take some time to figure out who I really am. Most times, I go days without a second thought about religion or faith just as I go without thinking about having a child. There are other days that those thoughts can be consuming. I find myself jealous of those who are strong in their faith and use it as a means of empowerment, while other times I feel like they’re just deluding themselves in regards to it all. Most times though, I feel like I’ve ripped out my mom’s heart when she mentions something about religion knowing that I’ve basically given up my own…and what she gave to me.
How did I get to this point? How did I become so cynical? Why can’t I find the comfort I so greatly seek? Why do I feel like I need it? I have too many questions. That’s always been my problem with religion in general, as I’m more the type who feels that seeing is believing.
I really hoped that writing would provide me some sort of epiphany. Maybe it’ll just come to me later. Maybe that epiphany is lost just like my faith is, and it will just take some time to finally figure out how to find it. As my dad always says when I’m looking for something I’ve lost, “It’s always in the last place you look.”