In The Beginning

The journey began years ago. I really don't know when.  It just came on slowly.

I've been searching for my place in this world for a long time.  Maybe not so much my place but for that peace that you only know from a certain spiritualness.

I was raised Catholic.  We went to church every Sunday, kneeling, praying, singing, and being faithful.  I will always remember the day that I became disillusioned.

My parents had recently separated, but that didn't shake our ways.  After all, we knew nothing but how to be good Catholics.  You always went to church.  It was just what you did.  Everyone you knew went to church, and if they didn't you didn't know it.  You just assumed that if they didn't go to your church that they went to some other church.

As we listened to the priest's sermon on this particular Sunday, he spoke of marriage.  He spoke of how it was the woman's duty to keep the family together, and if the family didn't stay together it was her fault.

I remember thinking of my parents, my mom and my dad.  I loved them both.  I couldn't fathom what my mother could have done so horribly that she made my father leave us.

That day, as a young 14 year old, I knew it wasn't right.  I knew I had to find out the truth.

The first thing I learned was it wasn't my mother's fault, nor was it my father's fault.  I learned the truth lay somewhere in between.

Since that day, somewhere around 30 years ago, I have been on this journey.

I know I love God.  I have no doubts about that.  I love Him with all my heart and soul.

This is about my continuing journey in search of that inner peace.  Or, perhaps, more precisely, finding the outside for what I already know is inside of me.