confession1: a beginning

Journal entry on August 18, 2013.

I have not written in a week or so, being caught up in working too much. I am now sitting at the compline service at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Capitol Hill, pretty close to EL actually. The last time I sat on this stone floor, listening to these beautiful songs, I was a Christian. The last time was the summer entering sophomore year. It was with B and we were both heartbroken over people that didn’t matter, but sitting in the service, I felt as if whatever broken thing within me was in the process of mending itself, if only for one half of an hour.

But I don’t believe in the god being glorified in these beautiful voices, anymore. Yet, I still feel some connection- spiritual or emotional or maybe even physical, who knows; although I no longer believe the story being told, I am still carried by the rise and fall of harmonies, by the organized sounds and silences.

When I first began intentionally transitioning out of Christianity and exploring new ideas, I was scared. I had a lifelong comfortability in the religion. I thought I was outside of my comfort zone. However, going to church this morning and compline tonight again affirmed that I am the same as I have always been, even if I no longer define myself a certain way. I feel freedom. I am still uncomfortable or find beauty in the same things as I did before- like this song. This song is so beautiful it has moved me to tears, and I sigh and feel peace settle into my bones, my very being, just as I felt that summer two years past.

My prayer, or hope, or desire, for this fleeting life of mine is to never be too comfortable, to find peace in the chaos and freedom in the unknown- like the warmth and comfort I have found while sitting on this cold, hard stone floor.


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