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

  So many people get judged when they refuse to put their pain away. They get judged for showing it, for speaking it, for insisting on sharing their memories of abuse with those they know. I am not talking about those overwhelming strangers with their stuff—I am talking about legitimate sharings with those they are connected with in daily life. All too often, they are fed one repressive message or another: “Don’t look back,” "What’s done is done,” “Don’t be a victim,” “Your feelings are an illusion,” “Be strong.” What is ironic about this is that those who insist on embodying and expressing their feelings are actually the courageous ones—unwilling and unable to live a false life. Their stuff is breaking through their defenses because they yare tired of carrying the weight of buried truths. They want a healthier and more authentic life. Those who seek to shame their revealings are actually less courageous, turning to repressive mantras in an effort to bypass their own unresolved fe...

there   are words dying in my throat  to say to you that i need you to know five days may not be enough time to tell you what's been lodged between my heart and mouth for what feels like a lifetime  if i get them all out (and i don't want to rush the moments i have with you) but i feel if i don't tell you that an opportunity may be missed and those words that cause heat in my body and burning on my heart will choke me

The urge to die is the urge to disappear as a separate self, to vanish into the vastness of Being, to rest deeply, as we have never rested before.  The urge to die is the wave’s urge to return to the ocean... forgetting that it was never divided from the ocean in the first place. The urge to die is not negative, sick, dark or sinful, but a deeply, deeply misunderstood aspect of our being. We ignore this urge, push it away, hide it, medicate it, keep it a secret, try to numb ourselves to it or even philosophize it away. But when acknowledged, honoured, brought out of the darkness and into the light, even the “suicidal” urge, the urge to shed our false skin, contains infinite intelligence. All feelings do.  (I’m not talking about acting it out. I’m talking about facing it, understanding it, hearing its deeper call of transformation.) The urge to die is the urge to awaken, to come alive again, to restart life, to stop identifying as a separate body-mind, to remember our original ...

  she feels nervous pleasure surging through her body  anticipating  what his touch will feel like there's a flame of desire that burns for him and just the notion of his hands on her body sets the flame ablaze  she knows her bones may burn and her heart consumed  but she also knows he is the oxygen that she desperately  wants to inhale

  Have you ever met a man who takes his time? A man so in tune with your energy, your mood, your expression that he knows what you need without an explanation? A man who doesn't push you away when you're upset or frustrated. A man who knows how to stand with firmness and calm in his masculine while your feminine works it out. He's taken time to get to know your mind and your body. He sees you, he listens to the little things, even when you don't know he's listening. He learned how to connect with your mind and he's learned how to touch your body. He's able to slow things down and read your body's response to his touch. He doesn't rush, he's not pleasing you for his own release. It's for you with no expectation, no pressure, no manipulation, no games. You can let go because he's created a space of absolute respect and trust. He knows when to kiss you softly, when to hold you gently or when to consume your mind and body with masculine power...

At the heart of all trauma, a terrible sense of isolation, disconnection, loneliness. Follow your trauma to its devastating core, friend, to its heart of darkness, and you will inevitably meet the abandonment wound, the pain of all pains. Abandoned by mother, father. Forgotten and misunderstood by the world. Cast out of heaven and separated from the Godhead. Divided from life. Of course, it’s an illusion. You were never separate from the mountains, the forests, the diamond drops of morning dew. You were never broken, never rotten at your core, never separate from the One. You were always loved. The terrible heart of darkness was always your own exquisitely beautiful heart of light, so fragile, so powerful, so loveable, so real. Ultimately others cannot save us. Each of us are called to confront our aloneness, dive into the heart of our trauma, and find solace and sanctuary there. Others can hold our trembling hands but they cannot travel for us.  There is no external saviour, and t...

she imagines him carrying her away and losing track of time her safely in his arms letting go of all the years of pain of brokenness  she imagines he is the answer to her dreams and like her he has longed for a love that feels safe and timeless

there’s a knot of anger that lives inside of her she feels its heaviness  but can't untangle it because all her thoughts of him are knotted in it she's holding on to it to remind herself how love can betray you she doesn't react to it instead her body goes numb at the sound of his name as she refuses  to feel anything  for a man who did not choose her