Ego Suspension

Been powerful sick the last couple of days. Something I ate wreaked havoc in my digestive system, shutting it down except for sheer physical processes. Not fun. It has hindered my writing because I couldn’t leave the house.
Most of my endless blather here arises from bumping into an experience or something I read, maybe several of them together, which triggers a response outside my conscious mind. Usually that includes some time spent praying over the issue to make sure I know my own heart.
I should clarify I don’t often pray on my knees physically because they are messed up and can’t take the pressure from the front most of the time. The cartilage behind the knee caps is all chewed up. The only space large enough for prostration of my substantial form is a high traffic area, and my yard grass just isn’t that nice. So I often go off and on a walk, bike ride, or just get off alone to myself. Then I talk out-loud to God. You can decide for yourself whether or not He pays me any mind, but it seems to me He surely does.
The issue here is not shutting off the intellect. It’s shutting off the ego. Without nit picking over the vocabulary choice here, the point is to suspend my overt volition by distracting it with some other simple task. For whatever reason, that’s when I get a sense of peace about things one way or the other. I don’t get that peace when I struggle too much with direct logic, because the issue does not arise from direct logic.
Sometimes all I can tell is I have some nameless itch, some sense of burden, something that I have to chase down in my spirit. I’ve got one or two such things right now that don’t seem to have any perceptible answers just yet. So I keep bringing them up in prayer. Then there are some things I know I can’t write about, whether I get peace or not about the thing itself. I also need peace about what to say.
I claim to be a prophet of God. At least once of twice since coming to that conclusion, I’ve wanted very much to keep something inside. Didn’t want to write about it. Drove me nuts. Shutting up is not an option unless I do something to destroy the last shred of credibility I have in that claim. I don’t consider it giving advice, just having my say, doing my job. After that, it’s between God and whomever reads it.
There are times I get such a charge out of it, I don’t have words. It’s one of the few things I really wish I could write, but I’m not sure it would make that much difference in the long run. Still, I’m just yammering to clear my own conscience, to seek my own peace. Madness it may all be, but it’s the best I know.