One of the things I like best about being Catholic is, ironically enough, confession. At first, it was a problematic concept for me. The idea of telling someone where you’ve fallen short is always an uncomfortable exercise, and for someone who grew up thinking, like many Protestants, that if it’s Catholic, it must be wrong (of the devil, even), my first time in confession was initially a little awkward. But having such a conversation — and any good confession involves conversation — left me feeling lighter, more alert.

It’s not just the confession that helps, though. The preparation for it, the examination of one’s conscience, forces me to look at my own actions with a critical eye, and critical examination of one’s life is always beneficial.

I find, though, that I tend to focus more on sins of commission than sins omission. I suppose it’s easier to remember things I did than to recall about the things I didn’t do. If I didn’t do them, I likely didn’t think about them, making it tricky to recall them.