Disarm

Disarm me.  May my thoughts not be aggressive towards anyone, or myself.  May I not hate reality.  May I not push against the subtle tide and nuances.  May I not fight myself and others.  I am not meant for battle, but for celebration.  Yet I find myself divided, and possibly competing ideals battling within me.  Disarm me.  May I go with what the Ground of Being says.  May my fighting give way to a greater good.  May I find my home.

Home, a place where my mind won't feels conflicted anymore.  Home, a place where my vision of scarcity will erupt with the explosion of love.  Home, where I am included, where every part of me, is included.  Home, where confusion gives way to peace.  Home, a place where my thoughts and ideas won't feel like or be isolated islands vying for a limited attention.  Home, where all flows from the Source.  Home, where my wrestlings, my ancient binding, gets put to rest.  Home, where abounding life is the norm, not the exception.

May I find home.  Where, with God's help, I can finally lay down my rusty weapons, and in the arms of grace, let every chain be broken.