Ego is the most tiring thing I know of. The heaviness of having to prove your awesomeness, of needing to be better than everybody else, is too much for me to bear. I want the simple times when my heart was a bowl filled with clear water. Light could pass right through me then. I was full not of substance, but of emptiness (the one true substance). You were more to me then, Lord, than now, when I am weighed down with the ponderous fear of failure. How can I fail, unless I empty myself of you and replace you with myself?

How can I succeed, unless I empty my bowl of myself and fill it with you?