40 Days

I awake to the stiff, frigid morning air.

My toes curl under the small sliver of blanket, looking for any sign of warmth.

Diffused light streams through closed windows, reflecting off freshly fallen snow.

It is quiet.

It is peaceful.

Yet, something is different.

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent in the Catholic Church;

The first of 40 days of repentance and self-sacrifice.

40 days to fix all of the problems I have caused myself in the past year.

40 days of complying to certain rules on certain days.

40 days of analyzing my morals and re-teaching myself discipline.

I have found myself questioning my religion a lot lately; too many rules, too many expectations. I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t born and bred in the Catholic Church, I’d be a Buddhist. Maybe even just a spiritualist. Why should it take a set 40 day period each year to get us to sit down and realize that we aren’t perfect. That everyone does stupid s**t and lies and takes advantage of others. We too often rely on people telling us when and how we must live our lives.

However, I find myself caught at a crossroads. Every time I “take a break” from my weekly customs, I feel like something is missing. My faith is a huge part of who I am. I like being Catholic. I like believing in something and feeling like I have a reason to be here, and somewhere to go when my time is up. It is expected weekly mass attendance and keeping up with the set standards of being Catholic, that causes my faith to become an obligation. It is no longer something I love and strive to stay in tune with.

I find myself asking, “What now?”

And to be honest, I have no idea.

I gain the courage to depart from under my warm covers.

I soak under the boiling shower water.

My arms and legs turn red from the heat.

I am washing away my impurities, readying myself for the next 40 days.

I head out, off to receive the ever symbolic ashes.

May the repenting begin.