Madison Meadows Spiritual Blog: A Journey into Mysticism, Dreams, Twin Flames, & Healing

Creator of All, I am a seeing leaf on your tree, Your wisdom grows in me I contemplate your existence, and the world inside of me I render your name holy,  and give praise to Thee You shelter me- under your tent in my hour of need You light my path- when I am to blind to see You heal my open wounds, and clothe me in purity I sacrifice my heart- on Your alter joyfully to Thee I plant in this world- Your Kingdom's seed May it's trunk grow- into the heavens, and bare Your fruit and leaves Then my seeing eyes- behold! Your beautiful face inside of me

My very first memory is when I was two years old.  I was at the park with my mom, brother, and grandparents.  We are having a picnic.  I go to sit down at the picnic table and I sit on a bee. I scream and cry.  My grandma begins yelling.  The adults all are arguing.  We leave. It's not the bee sting that is of importance here, it is what happens next.  My grandma's negative reaction to the situation.  It would be the beginning of my deep emotional wounds.   My grandmother had a great impact on my pain body.  She was cold, unloving, and manipulated everyone around her. She controlled everything and everyone in my life, so it seemed.  Reflection on my grandmother, now I realize, that her rigidness and maliciousness aided my soul. It was a lack of love and acceptance that led me to seeking love within. From an early age I wanted a way out of suffering. Eckhart Tolle explains it best.  The pain-body is the accumulation of ol...

My words are out of control. I sow them, Weave them, But I have no control over them. They emerge from within me, Take me hostage, Command my hand, And with purpose write. The parts are all connected, But the artist I cannot see with the naked eye. Who is this that takes command over my body? Over my speech? Whomever she is is bound to this body, And her hidden mystery she desperately wants to unveil.

Anger isolates.  The only thing anger can do is destroy.  Anger cannot create anything.  It cannot create peace.  It cannot create understanding.  It cannot create harmony; it can only create conflict, war, discord, separation.  Even if we intellectually know these things, we all have enormous anger, why?  Do we all want peace?  Do we all want to feel connectedness?  We all want to feel love and we all want to love.  Anger is the obstacle, not the anger of others, but our own. Reference~ www.gnosticteachings.org

During the time you are practicing mindfulness, you stop talking- not only the talking outside, but the talking inside.  The talking inside is the thinking, the mental discourse that goes on and on and on inside.  Real silence is the cessation of talking- of both the mouth and of the mind.  This is not the kind of silence that oppresses us.  It is a very elegant kind of silence, a very powerful kind of silence.  It is the silence that heals and nourishes us. Reference~ Your True Home, Thich Nhat Hanh

This ballet of our souls finds expression in these bodies.  What is the fruit of Love's labor?  Is it not the expansion of our very being? Time has kidnapped our souls.  But a slave to love I choose, and willingly!  I will shed this body when all seasons end, and I will seek your face no more.  The fruit of forty thousand years- your love from the other side- calling me home.

A question was asked out of a lack of faith, "How do you know the Beloved's presence?" The Lover responded, "The soul of the wind did visit me. The Beloved disguised himself so He would be invisible to all, but me." Only the eye of spirit can catch the spirit of the wind. "And the soul of the wind did enter me.  And with His divine properties, He changed His form and set fire to my heart." When the Lover pleases her Beloved with supplications, her bondage becomes freedom- her pain turned into joy. "And the soul of the fire did melt my heart, and with His command fire became water. His water became my relief. And in all His forms, He revealed Himself inside of me.  My soul informed of His nature."

I was born in April, the year 1975.  My mother carried two babies in her womb.  I came out first.  My father says that when he held me in his arms for the first time, I was limp and didn't cry.  My brother, on the other hand, came out wailing. My father's trade was a carpenter and a photographer,  my mother a homemaker. Both were of the Christian faith. I was born under the sign of Taurus. The bull's positive qualities are strength of purpose, patience, steadfastness, practical, stable, and conviction. The bull's negative qualities are stubbornness, possessive, and uncompromising.

The holy relationship undoes the unholy relationship. It undoes all past karmas that tie the twin souls together.  When God's mercy is poured out into the twin souls, He reveals Eternity to the lovers - giving clear perception to them.  The lovers embrace the goal of holiness and the old way falls away.

“Nobody can deny the fact that there are different social levels. There are churchgoing people, people in brothels, farmers, businessmen, etc. “In a like manner, there are different Levels of Being. Whatever we are internally, munificent or mean, generous or miserly, violent or peaceful, chaste or lustful, attracts the various circumstances of life. “The lustful person will always attract scenes, dramas and even lascivious tragedies in which he will become involved. “A drunkard will always attract drunkards and will always be seen in bars or taverns; this is obvious... “What will the usurer attract? The selfish one? How many problems? Jail? Misfortunes? “Nonetheless, frustrated people, tired of suffering, want to change, to turn the page of their history... “Wretched people! They want to change and they do not know how; they do not know the methods; they are stuck in a blind alley. “What happened to them yesterday happens to them today, and will happen to them...

In my sleep- I am keeper of time, I am a crow searching for food, I am a slave to One master, I am particles of light And sunlight itself, I am a woman conversing with God, I am a child running through An open field, I am a man getting married  to my soulmate,  I am a sleeping tree. I am busy with my work, discovering new places as I criss-cross through time and space.  My memory of myself is scattered everywhere.  This world too small to contain me.

Upon taking a dear friend's advice, I am going to share with you, my reader, my life, from the very beginning to now.  As I am sharing my life, it will also be a time of reflection for me.  This will be painful at times, I believe that I am in a place now in my spiritual journey to explore deeper parts of my being that have remained buried. I'm calling this process- Remembering, Reliving, and Releasing. With every memory I will ask myself, Who is thinking? Who is feeling? Who is acting? I hope a new perspective will emerge out of my observation of self .  As this happens, I then hope to view all of my past experiences in a new light and release them. I want to go beyond the barriers that my adolescent mind has built, and tear them down completely. I hope through my vulnerability and courage, that you to will gain the courage to reflect on your own self and heal your wounds.  "...birth is suffering, old age is suffering, illness is suffering, death is suffer...

Beloved, I write to cope with my emotional pain. My tales help relieve some of my suffering. The scars on my heart are deep. My dedication is a reflection of my greater love for you. You have left me in a state of grieving your absence and hoping for your return. Does not a petal on the rose stretch to meet the sun in hopes of some meeting?  Don't her thorns fashion her troubles of his absence eloquently? What does a lover do, but use art to dress up the heart and reveal Eternity at the same time. My grief is the landscape of my soul and is expanding me as a writer.  Tell me Darling, do I write it natural? Your Darling, Sapphire

A little girl born to dream dreamed lovely, dreamy dreams She galloped the Milky Way on her black stallion On the backs of eagles she went flying Dressing up the stars in glitter and gold the little girl was courageous and bold She battled dragons that guarded heaven snakes and monsters and beasts- with heads of seven Her adventures didn't stop there she  was seen in Leo's lair Nothing scared her so it seemed Aphrodite took notice with pride and gleemed She trained the girl- perfected her skills Gave her a little red wagon with her weapons to fill In it she carried her sword of truth- sharpened by warriors old and new It also held her shield of purity- it was the whitest white sculpted out of ivory Her armor was made of gold- it was more than any enemy could behold  The little girl grew up into a woman- ready to meet her King Solomon With her little red wagon hitched to a star- she vowed to find him and follow her heart Prepared now to tak...

From journal entry 6/10/15 During meditation my consciousness separated from myself.  I observed myself from above.  My consciousness sees me crying on the floor, it sees me suffering. There was no thought of I or any identification with emotion.  My consciousness withdrew itself from my personality.   Reflecting on the experience, I got a glimpse of how I unnecessarily suffer, and recognized a greater awareness that allowed me to conclude, time is an illusion and suffering causes us to feel trapped in it. Samael Weor states that we do need to divide attention between observer and observed and yet there really is no observer.  When you look into that observer you simply see the act of observation, the pure energy of consciousness, which has no self.  It has no center, no beginning, no ending.  This is something you have to experience.  The intellect will fail to grasp it. Reference~ gnosticteachings.org  

There is a True, above, between, beyond the One or Two. Both One and Two, They are the Three within Whose Love They sing you into being and becoming. It is there I rest from death's demands, from works that turn my face away, and in this ease I breathe in life and, re-turning, hear the Voice I trust, and I am known, am freed, to now and evermore participating  in seeing. Reference~ Eve by WM. Paul Young

Many years went by before Arion dissolved his stubbornness and fears and returned home. Empty now he was like a lute, finely and delicately crafted, open and receptive.  The music his soul would play at the touch of Sapphire's hands would stir the music inside of Arion.  He longed to be played, whimmed, full of sound.  This longing to feel vibrant and alive saturated his heart. Arion knew the symphony and had memorized all the notes.  He realized now it was his masterpiece that he needed to finish. All of Arion's desires desired an opening.  It was Sapphire that had opened him, exposing all his wounds.  It was her greatest gift to him.  Inflicting Arion with the wounds of love healed him of all his other wounds. Now Arion understood that the same cause was also the cure. Arion longed to return home to Sapphire as an open lute- empty with the only desire to be played.

Why must I constantly guess what's on your mind?  Why do you not speak?  Even the lightning speaks to the sky her fury, the rain her pain, the clouds their confusion, the sun his peaceful mind. You are hidden from view, far away from my sight.  Veiled are your words- no form, no sound.  Is this your mystery? Is this the place where I leave my knowingness to find you? The heart knows the way to the Beloved and flies there without feet.  His beauty is my guesswork.

I, the private poet, my audience small but my honor great, I do not seek popularity, fame.  Recognition of my craft would be great, but even that will not satisfy my unsatisfied desire.   Life and death dance in my rhymes.  I articulate this play I have with both. Which is superior: life or death?  In which do I live? Darkness swallows the light of my days and greets me as a lamp- revealing both are fused together. When I part ways with this world into death's grave, will my little lamp surpass the sun?  Will my poetic words have their meaning unraveled?  Will the world then embrace this private poet?

I now understand that as wide as you are, there was no getting around you. And as thick as you are, there was no way through you. Because I trusted you, you penetrated me and I was transformed.  How marvelous! - this field of energy, love, so vast and spacious that I don't know where I begin and you end. You, my teacher, are the means of expansion and my gateway to Eternity.

Quote from an NDE survivor, who struggled to cope with feelings of loss and disappointment that came along with the return to the body: "I have just returned from a pleasant, slow, mile and-a-half jog.  I am sitting in our garden.  Overhead a tree moves gently in a mild, southerly breeze.  Two small children, holding hands, walk down the street absorbed in their own world.  I am glad I am here.  But I know that this marvelous place of evil, pain, and ugliness, is only one of the many realities through which I must travel to distant and unknown destinations." Reference~ The Modern Book of the Dead, Jakob Bohme "We are all prisoners of the outer man." ~Jakob Bohme

Death is nothing to be feared but should be instead embraced, harnessed, utilized as a gateway to a better life.  This is the ultimate point of spirituality: how to harness life and death in order to elevate life and death, in order to project our mind stream to a higher level of living and a higher level of dying, in order to ascend into greater knowledge. Reference~ www.gnosticteachings.org

From Journal Entry: August 10, 1998 I feel myself ascending upward through the stars. I feel a presence and am scared.  I have no control of what is happening to me. In space, is the presence of a man, dressed like a cowboy. He shows me his hand and touches mine. He says he needs my heart. He removed my heart from my chest, and I could perceive a holographic image of my heart, beating. I asked him questions about the afterlife and my relationship I was in.  He said, the afterlife isn't all it's cracked up to be, because when your incarnated again, you end up anywhere on the time line. He said, the guy I was with will go out of my life, that I deserve better. He also said that he would be back to visit me and give me more Class 3 information. I had the feeling he did not want to leave me.  I could feel myself descending downwards, back into my body. Following this experience, my roommate at the time, now my husband, came home. I had such a rush from the encounte...

He carried me away To unknown places - deep He led the way Inside of me  He knew me not Yet, knew me well His heart - I knew not Yet, I could not tell To the Sun - is where He carried me And left me there Inside His dream

God is good, I pray that in his good time we once more meet each other, but if this life holds not another meeting for us, remember also, that it has no parting more, wherever the hour finds us, for which we have hoped so long, we shall not be separated, neither death, nor the grave can part us, so that we only love! Reference~ Emily Dickinson

Heavy is my load- I carry I bare Grievances for my Beloved- He carries He shares I showed Him my heart I put it on display He showed up not And went on His way Lighten my load I beg, I plea! Still He distances Himself from hopeless me Tender is my heart- And faith the rope It ties me to Him- And I can't let go My secrets long For His longing ear- To give providence To my Love- So far, so dear

As I write these words on paper, think of them as a letter, I the sender, am sending to you, the receiver.  May my words be addressed to the One whom knows my intimate thoughts, and may he pluck them from my imagination and imprint them on his heart. Hold these words in your hands to close the gap between you and I.  Time for a brief moment collapses and distance doesn't separate us.

Follow link to a free Ebook download of Our Day of Passing !!   https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/563817           When a person encounters their twin soul, it is as if eternity has opened up and on a deeper level there is the recognition of belonging to the other.   The Lovers are in love with the other’s true self.   This mirroring back to each other is essential for cultivating the seed necessary for union; through the death of the ego. A connection is first established in the instant of the eyes meeting the other’s eyes.   Through this intense magnetism a tunnel is created from the heart of one to the heart of the other.   They can live thousands of miles apart and still maintain the nourishment of the energy between them.   One knows the tunnel is activated by words that are felt.   For example, a song can play on the radio and all of a sudden your hair stands up on end and the...

Oh my darling one, how long you wander from me, how weary I grow of waiting and looking, and calling for you...I try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you'll never go away. Reference~ Emily Dickinson

Do you have a macabre fascination with death and the afterlife? If so, then this anthology is definitely for you and best of all it is FREE.   Whilst some see the subject of death as too morbid to contemplate, others such as the skilled writers that have contributed to this anthology, view it as the perfect subject to stimulate creative thinking.   Much like ‘love’ and ‘war’, the topic of death has the ability to draw out some of the most thought-provoking pieces ever to fill a blank sheet of paper. Our Day of Passing is formed from an eclectic and diverse mix of short stories, poems, fictions and essays. Contributions have been assembled from over 30 talented writers across the globe, each with their own fascinating interpretation of an event that comes to us all…eventually. Written by Ingrid Hall, Franco Esposito, Dennis Higgins, Virginia Wright, Candida Spillard, Valeri Beers, Dada Vedaprajinananda, Strider Marcus Jones, Adam E. Morrison, Allyson L...

Private I have intended to write you Emily today but the quiet has not been mine I send you this, lest I should seem to have turned away from a kiss- if you have suffered this past summer I am sorry I Emily bear a sorrow that I never uncover- if a nightingale  sings with her breast against a thorn, why not we! When I can, I shall write- Sue

Emily’s first letter to Susan is dated 1850.   It is not certain how Emily and Susan met.   Emily’s brother, Austin marries Susan, and the two women become sister-in-laws. The letters from Emily to Susan indicate that Susan is the object of passionate attachment.   Susan saved the letters from Emily which shows how much she valued them. Susan is independent, outspoken, deeply engaged with spiritual concerns, and like Emily, she is committed to pursuing intellectual growth. The intellectual intimacy between Susan and Emily begins in the early years of their relationship.   In her letters to Susan, Emily frequently refers to the novels she is reading and uses various characters as metaphors or codes to relate feelings about herself and Susan. In the letters that follow, Emily and Susan are in their early twenties.   Though Emily’s feelings of love, desire, and longing for Susan have often been dismissed as a “school-girl cru...

Dearest Layla, A woman who suspects her husband of any foul play will quietly, secretly keep him under watch.  She will keenly lay traps for her husband and his lover in hopes of catching them in the act. But what fault have I committed against you or God? None. You will not find any because I only possess noble virtues. All your traps you set, I have bystepped them all.  I will not fall into a jealousy love trap of yours! I assure you that I hold myself in high esteem and desire more than anything to be in the high esteem of all others. So lay as many traps as you wish.  I will not succumb to any weakness brought on by fear, doubt, anger, or even desire! My eyes are set on Eternity and I will not risk losing Eternity for a fleeing moment of humanly desire. Surely by now I have won your sympathy.  Do you not see how I suffer?  Yet, you deny me any compassion or repose.  I have been treated unjustly, while the close keeping of your husband has onl...