Being conscious has its setbacks.

My Catholic Epiphanic Vision Quest in Copperopolis

First off, I'm not sure if it took place in Copperopolis, CA but I'm pretty sure it was in that region. 

When I was 14 years old, my Mother was persistent as ever to get me to become more involved in our parish. St. Anthony's to be exact. She somehow convinced me to go on a teen retreat into the mountains in order to solidify my mushy, unreliable faith. Normally I'd flat out refuse and lock myself in a closet and swallow the key, but since my cousin of the same age was going, I thought, "Fine. Let's get it over with." 

On a Friday morning in the summer (I think), the kids signed up for the teen retreat gather with their families in the parking lot of the church. Our bags are packed and we're ready to roll. I remember participating in a group prayer before we hit the road. 

Once we get to the campground, my memories get hazy. I remember sleeping on the top bunk, eating eggs for Saturday morning's breakfast, and being discouraged when the girl I decided was the prettiest and most attainable decided to cling to the handsome, athletic Hispanic guy with the infatuation with FUBU and golf visors. 

One night at the retreat, we were brought into a dimly lit room where noise was permitted. One by one, we participated in a mass hypnotism of some sort. i remember it being my turn and being surrounded by three women. One behind me, one in front and one on the side. The lady in front recited a prayer (chant) while the palm of her hand pressed against my forehead. Eventually, she would gently press my head back and the two other women would safely guide me to the ground. Now normally when this kind of thing happens, the victims involved are so overwhelmed with emotion and God knows what else, that they really do pass out for a few seconds. I, however did not pass out and decided to act like I did (years later I did the same exact thing when participating in a hypnotism show at the County Fair). 

The next day at camp we were split into groups of 5 or 6 and had a conversation with one of the counselors. One of the objectives was to get every teen to admit something they feel bad about at the moment. It was basically a communal confession. When it got to me, I reached for something bad. Honestly, I wasn't that bad of a kid at the time. I didn't do anything too crazy. I mean, I had tried pot and alcohol but that was something I wasn't willing to share with a bunch of goody goodies. I ended up discussing a girl named Missy I briefly dated for three days but ended up deciding to just be friends with. I felt bad about the way I treated her and the situation but chalked it up to, "This is what a high school relationship is." 

Fast forward to Sunday when we returned to St. Anthony's, just in time for evening mass. It's a bit embarrassing to admit but I was "awakened". Whatever it was that those spellcasters did to me, it worked (albeit briefly). I embraced my Mother and cried into her shoulder. I had seen the light. Finally, my Mother got the good ol' religious boy she always dreamed of.

After church, my Mother and I, along with my Aunt, Uncle, and cousins went out to eat at Foster Freeze (A restaurant we never go to). Sure enough, who do I see at the joint? Missy. I remember being very disoriented when this happened. How could it be possible that the one person I mention on a religious retreat is now standing in front of me. Also, making it more than a coincidence was the fact that she and I both lived in the town over from where we were eating. I took this as a definitive sign from God that not only was he real, he was watching over me. I took this unprecedented moment as an opportunity to apologize to Missy for being such a bonehead. My conscious was clear and I felt lighter than I ever had before.

How amazing, right? I naively mistook synchronicity for God. But maybe there's more of a connection between the two than previously thought. Synchronicity is a reminder from the ethereal realm that there is something at work that is greater than you, I, and everyone else combined. It was truly a momentous occasion.

Anyways, Catholicism did not stick and I eventually went back to my normal ways of thinking. I have my older brothers to thank for that. They wasted no time in explaining to me logically how the religion doesn't quite work for certain minds.

Either way, what a gas!

-Dom