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

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.