Dear Pastor (Part I):

Through a windowless portal I stare. Life has become grim and uninteresting. Nothing inspires, nothing is required, my brain has become mush. Routines give some form of meaning to life. That I wake up, go to work, go to church, go to places, go to the end of myself daily, and then do the same thing over and over again seems to be a good enough reason to stay alive. Better than the frightening alternative at least.

Why am I so numb? Religion, they said, is my answer. But as I sit listening to the animated pastor and scan the amused audience, I feel both alien and inconvenienced. To act like I care, to act like it all means something to me seems pretentious. But the fear that if I don’t try something, if I don’t follow the cues, the preacher’s instructions, I will be lost forever is too much of a gamble. Not just lost in the theological sense, but in the sense that I may never feel anything but this. Are these the emotions that religion stirs? The primal instinct to be part of the group and survive or be alone and be ravaged? Afraid to die and tired of living, I wish to be left alone yet also embraced and reassured. In this paradox I sit, preacher, can you say something true? Can you help?