I wish I believed in something, but I don't.
I feel envious of people who believe in a God or Gods. It must be very comforting to think there is someone looking out for you. It must be a relief to think that someone else is in charge.
I also envy people who belong to a religion. I would like to have that sense of belonging, that community. I also like the pretty bits of religion - the churches and temples and the insense and the ritual and the songs and the history.
The trouble is, I was not brought up being told that there is a God, and at my age I can't just suddenly decide to believe that it's true.
It would be like suddenly believing that my garden is populated with enormous invisible dancing purple hippos. Try as I might, I just can't really believe it's the case.
I look at my children and know that some day they may also feel envious of their Hindu friends and their Jain friends and their Christian friends and their Muslim friends, because all those people are in a club and they can't be.
I'm not completely adverse to believing in things. I am prepared to entertain spirits and ghosts, and maybe even a sort of spiritual energy in nature.
I was accosted by a Christian many years ago in Hereford town centre. She wanted to know if Jesus was in my heart. I said that no, he wasn't. She said he was waiting for an invitation. I said there was nothing stopping him from wandering in, door's open. She said that he couldn't come in unless I invited him in. (A bit like a vampire?).
I find myself coming back to this again and again.
I want the practical side of religion without the hocus pocus I suppose.