I come from a family where religion wasn't really a thing. We would say grace before Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving... sometimes. And I went to a Christian summer camp with my friends a few times (to stay in cabins, run around in the woods, and hang out around a lake, not for Christianity). That was about it. I didn't have much of an idea of what religion was.

I figured religion was all about believing some guy up in the sky was playing a metaphorical game of marbles (or chess, or checkers, or Monopoly, or any other game) with all of our lives. If you went to church, said the right things before dinner, and wore a cross around your neck, he would play your piece with a little more care than the rest. Of course, there was also this idea that when you died you got to go kick it in a paradise in the clouds with free food and lots of other dead people. It didn't seem like such a bad deal.

But I was scared and embarrassed. I didn't know anything about religion, my parents weren't religious, and I had no idea in the world of what happened at church services. How was on Earth was a kid like me going to get more details on this thing called religion?

The answer presented itself, or at least started to, a little over three years ago in a place where nobody would expect to find religion, a public high school. I was pretty good friends with my AP Government teacher, Mr. Reichenbach, and I needed advice on which schools to apply to. The only things I knew were that I didn't want to go to school in-state and I couldn't afford to go to school out-of-state. He told me about Santa Clara University, one of the only California schools to offer financial aid based on merit. Perfect. I had an option.

Fast forward to spring. I had always planned on going to the University of Washington like the rest of my family, but after a visit to Santa Clara I knew it was the right choice. I enrolled the next fall and saying it was easy for me to adjust would be like saying it's easy for a rock to swim. It wasn't. Regardless, I did decently that first quarter. The second one was an entirely different story.

A few weeks into Winter quarter I began to miss. I missed my friends, I missed my home, I missed the trees, I missed the ocean, more than anything, I missed my family, but that wasn't all I missed. I missed my goals, I missed homework deadlines, I missed class, I missed workouts, you name it, I probably missed it. I've never been as stressed out in my life as I was then.

I began to come across lots of information about meditation. A Facebook post here, a scientific study there. Supposedly it was great for dealing with stress and improving focus, so I figured "why the hell not?" I found some resources online about how to start practicing and did just that. I sat for ten minutes a day, focusing on my breath. I don't know if you've ever tried sitting still and doing nothing for 10 minutes or not, but it's harder than you'd likely imagine. Don't believe me? Try it.

Ten minutes turned into 15, 15 turned into 20, and eventually I reached a point where I could sit for 30 minutes and just be. The practice helped me find peace. It helped me begin to sort things out and it helped open my mind to new ideas. I remember thinking "if meditation works, maybe there's some truth behind this spirituality thing after all."

I dove in. I began referring to myself as "spiritual but not religious" and I began reading and learning about world religions and spiritual practices. Eventually, I made a connection. Even though the words were different, every religion was basically saying the same thing, which I understood as "If you are good, you will receive goodness. If you are bad, you're f***ed."

But who gets to decide what's good and what's bad? It seems a little unfair that I should be held to the same standard as Mother Theresa and Martin Luther King, Jr. and Jesus Christ! How could I be expected to live up to the same standards as these people when I'm a college student with problems of the 21st century to deal with?

Life went on for the next year or so. There were good times, there were bad times. I continued to read, write, and learn as students are supposed to, struggling with the same problems that I had come to accept as part of college life. I had dealt with shit before, though, so I figured an answer would present itself eventually.

It wasn't until a few weeks ago that it did. Nobody decides good and bad, its something we know instinctively. I had become aware of many aspects of my experience (how I was feeling, what kind of thoughts I was having, etc.) through my time with meditation and realized that deep down inside, I always knew if I was doing right or wrong. That's what the conscience is for. It serves to guide us towards good, but like any other guide, it can be ignored.

It made sense now why I wasn't on par with the individuals I mentioned above. Because I have the power to choose. Just because I knew what the right thing to do was didn't mean I did it. Choosing the right thing makes all the difference. Imagine hiking in mountains you've never seen before and even though your trail guide tells you to take a left at a fork, you take a right. The chances you wind up in some unfavorable conditions are pretty steep.

I decided to trust my conscience and make the right choices more often. I didn't always succeed, but I felt good about what I was doing. And I started to realize something else happening. It wasn't anything major, but little coincidences kept happening in my favor. As Paulo Coelho writes in The Alchemist, "coincidence is the language of the stars."

That's why I began with the story of how I wound up at Santa Clara. I would be living a very different life right now if I hadn't come to California. It was coincidence that I happened to stay late in Mr. Reichenbach's class that day. It was coincidence that I found information about meditation that sparked my interest.

And that's why I chose to become religious. I religiously trust what my conscience has to say. I religiously do the things that I believe make me a better human being (exercise, mediation, writing, etc.). Most of all, I religiously care for and about others. It may not always show, I may make mistakes, but I do care. I am choosing to believe that if I do good, the universe will have my back, that wisdom can come from unexpected sources, that people are usually better than they may seem. And to be entirely honest, I find the idea that there is a deeper meaning behind my life both comforting and exciting. Put whatever labels you want on it. Call it God, Allah, Elohim, Christ, Jehovah, or whatever you want. It doesn't matter to me.

I chose to become religious because I would rather choose something to believe in, only to find out later that I was wrong, than to wait my entire life for "proof" only to find out that I had been missing the truth all along.

Thank you for reading.