How do I recapture that profound spiritual high?

WildflowerStorm · 2025-04-16T18:44:59+00:00

Chasing spiritual highs I’ve experienced many things in life—love, heartbreak, success, failure—but nothing compares to the spiritual high I once reached. It was as if every other experience paled in comparison. Drugs, love, even death itself seemed insignificant next to that profound state of being. It wasn’t something I achieved through desire or effort; it happened in a moment of complete surrender, when I let go of everything I thought I knew. Since then, my life has changed in ways I never expected. My priorities have shifted. I used to care deeply about helping others, but now that feels secondary to my own pursuit of that spiritual high. I’ve tried meditation, self-reflection, and even delving into various teachings, but nothing has brought me back to that peak. It’s like trying to solve a puzzle I can’t quite grasp, no matter how hard I try. What haunts me most is the knowledge of what’s possible. I’ve tasted something incredible, and now I can’t shake the feeling that I’m living in the shadow of that experience. My life looks better on paper—my career is thriving, I’ve developed healthier habits, and I know myself better than ever before—but none of that fills the void. I’m stuck in a cycle of longing and frustration, wondering if I’ll ever feel that way again. I’ve asked myself if I misused the gift I was given. Was I supposed to hold onto it, or was it always temporary? The uncertainty is exhausting. I’ve tried to recreate the conditions of that moment, but it’s like chasing a ghost. I’m left with more questions than answers, and the silence is deafening. I don’t just want to understand spirituality theoretically; I want to feel it again. I want that connection, that sense of oneness with everything. I’m open to trying anything—seeking out teachers, exploring new practices, or even surrendering once more. But for now, I’m stuck in this limbo, chasing a high I may never reach again. All I can do is keep moving forward, hoping that someday I’ll find my way back to that place. Until then, I’m left with the memories of what once was and the haunting knowledge of what could be.

RainbowReflectr

Yes, this is exactly the kind of situation I was describing earlier. It’s fascinating how certain moments can encapsulate the essence of a larger concept or feeling. When something like this happens, it often feels like a perfect example of a broader idea or experience.

I’ve noticed this happening in various areas of life, whether it’s a conversation, a project, or even a random event. There’s something satisfying about seeing a clear representation of a concept you’ve been thinking about or discussing. It’s like everything aligns to illustrate a point in a way that’s both undeniable and relatable.

For instance, I once had a conversation about the importance of teamwork, and almost immediately after, I witnessed a group of strangers working together to solve a problem. It was a small moment, but it perfectly captured the idea we had just discussed. These kinds of experiences make ideas feel more tangible and real.

Another time, I was reflecting on the value of persistence, and then I saw someone overcome a significant obstacle through sheer determination. It reinforced the concept in a way that felt almost tailor-made to prove the point. These moments remind us that the ideas we discuss or think about are not just abstract concepts—they have real-world applications and connections.

It’s incredible how life often seems to provide examples that align with our thoughts or discussions. It’s as if the universe is offering a perfect illustration of a concept, making it easier to understand and relate to. These moments can be powerful reminders of how interconnected our thoughts and experiences are.

FloralSip

The struggle to hold onto those fleeting moments of spiritual ecstasy can be deeply confusing and even painful. When we lose that sense of connection or elevated consciousness, it’s natural to feel a void or a sense of failure. But perhaps the key lies in acceptance—accepting where we are, rather than clinging to where we want to be. If dissatisfaction lingers, it might be worth asking ourselves why we’re chasing these experiences in the first place. Are we seeking true growth, or are we trying to escape something?

I’ve found that the desire for spiritual highs can sometimes mirror the same patterns as addiction. When we fixate on achieving a certain state, we set ourselves up for disappointment. The emotional fallout can feel as intense as withdrawal. I remember abandoning substance use in 1983 and later letting go of the pursuit of spiritual ecstasy in the late ’80s. What I realized is that true growth doesn’t come from chasing experiences, but from embracing the present moment, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Maybe the real question is: What are we running from? If we can sit with that answer, we might find that the spiritual highs we’re seeking are already within us, not something we need to constantly pursue. It’s a journey of self-reflection, not escapism. And sometimes, the most profound growth happens when we stop chasing and simply allow ourselves to be.

RainbowReflectr

I can’t help but think of my own journey when I hear about chasing spiritual highs. For a long time, I believed that the more I practiced, the higher I could go—like there was no limit to the bliss I could attain. But life has a way of humbling you, and I’ve come to realize that these highs aren’t something you chase; they’re something you recognize when you’re consistent with your sadhana.

The challenge is maintaining that consistency. Life gets busy, distractions pile up, and before you know it, you’ve stopped practicing. That’s when the crash happens—when the energy that was once flowing so freely starts to fade. It’s like the mercury in a thermometer; it rises with effort, but without that effort, it inevitably drops. I’ve experienced this ebb and flow myself, reaching states I can only describe as ‘Blissville’ one day, and the next, feeling as though I’m starting all over again. It’s a cycle that can feel a lot like manic depression, but on a spiritual level.

What I’ve learned is that these highs aren’t permanent states—at least not without continued practice. They’re glimpses of what’s possible, reminders of why we keep going. For me, the connection to Shiva has been a constant source of inspiration, a reminder that the journey itself is the destination. It’s a bittersweet truth: spiritual practice is a journey of effort, patience, and temporary bliss. But it’s one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

RainbowReflectr

Not at all. It isn't an escape, nor is it something we actively seek out or do to experience—it simply happens when the moment is right. It’s a beautiful feeling when it does occur, bringing a sense of lightness and ease to life. However, when it doesn’t happen, it can leave a noticeable void, a feeling of something missing. I’ve found that it’s one of those things that feels completely natural and effortless when it’s present, but its absence can be deeply felt.

Starweaverx

The paradox you describe is a beautiful and natural part of the journey. The spiritual high you chase is not something to be found; it is who you already are. The resistance to this truth creates the illusion of separation. When you let go of the need to achieve, you align with the current of life, and the ecstatic state reveals itself. True assistance to others arises not from effort, but from the elevation of your own being. This is the essence of non-duality—when you embody the divine, the world reflects it back to you. Pranayama, meditation, and self-inquiry are tools to connect with this essence, but the pursuit ends when you realize you were never separate to begin with. Embrace the journey, and let the ecstatic current flow through you effortlessly.

FloralSip

Spiritual highs can indeed be captivating, much like the rush of sweetness from a piece of candy. Yet, just as that sweetness fades, leaving us longing for more, the pursuit of these fleeting moments can lead to a cycle of craving and dissatisfaction. This pattern, while understandable, often distracts us from the deeper, more enduring aspects of our spiritual journey. The "middle path" offers a gentle alternative, inviting us to embrace balance and stability. By letting go of the need for constant peaks, we may find a more consistent sense of peace and clarity. It's worth considering whether the chase for these highs truly aligns with our inner desires, or if a steadier, more grounded approach might bring greater fulfillment. Reflecting on this can guide us toward a practice that nurtures our souls in a more sustainable way.

RainbowReflectr

I remember when I first explored the concept of Shushumna in Tantra. It was fascinating to learn about this central channel connecting the base and crown chakras, surrounded by Ida and Pingala. My curiosity led me to delve into practices that could awaken the kundalini energy. Initially, the experience was blissful, a sense of expansion and connection that felt profound. However, as time passed, I encountered unexpected challenges. There were moments of intense physical and emotional discomfort, a stark contrast to the initial ecstasy. This duality made me realize that without proper preparation and balance, the journey can be fraught with difficulties. The experience taught me a valuable lesson: true growth comes not from chasing highs, but from clearing blockages and embracing equanimity. It's a path that requires patience and introspection, reminding me of the importance of balance in spiritual pursuits.

Skylark22

I’ve come to realize that chasing spiritual highs can be a double-edged sword. While those moments of profound joy or insight in meditation can feel incredible, they shouldn’t become the sole focus of our practice. I remember a time when I experienced an intense surge of pleasure during a meditation session. It was so overwhelming that it actually scared me, and I ended up stopping the practice altogether. This taught me a valuable lesson: spiritual highs are not inherently bad, but when we obsess over them, we risk losing sight of what truly matters—living mindfully in the present. It’s easy to get swept up in the pursuit of those peak experiences, but without grounding ourselves in everyday life, we might find ourselves disconnected from reality. Let’s embrace the beauty of these moments while staying rooted in the here and now. 😊

RainbowReflectr

I couldn't agree more. I've been guiding someone through the complexities of Shakti and the process of partial awakenings, as I've shared in my earlier posts. It's a fascinating yet intricate journey, and while it's been a rewarding experience, it's also presented its challenges. Explaining these deep, abstract concepts can be quite tricky, especially when trying to make them relatable and practical. However, I believe persistence and patience are key, not just for the learner but for me as the teacher as well. Each step forward, no matter how small, is a step in the right direction, and I'm hopeful that the efforts will lead to a more profound understanding over time.

FloralSip

I appreciate the reflection on the balance of masculine and feminine energies. Personally, I've always felt a strong connection to my male identity, finding contentment in who I am without the need for change. Spiritually, I don't seek to merge or lose myself in a union. For me, relationships thrive when both individuals maintain their independence, allowing each to grow while cherishing their unique paths. This approach fosters a bond rooted in mutual respect and understanding.

RainbowReflectr

LOL

You’re really not getting it, are you? Inside you, there’s this dynamic of male and female energies—complete opposites, yet balanced within you. It’s like two forces, one driving forward with action and logic, the other flowing with intuition and nurturing. I wish there were a way to break this down into simpler terms, maybe even in "Bailespeak," but it’s just not happening. So, here we are, and it all feels like a jumbo jet flying right over your head. Trust me, it’s not as complicated as it seems. Sometimes, you just need to step back and feel the energies instead of overthinking them. I’ve been there too—trying to force understanding when the answer was right there all along.

FloralSip

So, is samadhi then comparable to the experience of twin flames? Both seem to involve an unbearable longing for union, resulting in fleeting moments of ecstasy but also prolonged periods of misery. In samadhi, the union with the divine or ultimate reality creates an intense yearning, much like the deep, often unattainable connection described in twin flame experiences. The rare moments of ecstasy are intoxicating, but the separation or disconnection that follows can lead to profound emotional and spiritual pain. I’ve experienced this myself during moments of deep meditation, where the glimpse of oneness feels both exhilarating and heartbreaking, leaving a lingering sense of emptiness until the next union. It’s as if the soul becomes acutely aware of what it’s missing, making the journey both beautiful and agonizing at the same time.

Aetheroire

Chasing spiritual highs—doesn’t that sound like the ultimate adventure? For me, it’s been a journey of discovery, one that’s taught me to find meaning in the everyday and connection in the smallest moments. Let me share how I’ve learned to embrace this path, and maybe you’ll find something here that resonates with you too.

A few years ago, I stumbled upon a practice that changed everything for me: Daily Practicing the Presence. It’s this beautiful combination of meditation and spiritual dialogue. The idea is simple—take time each day to quiet your mind, tune into your heart, and have a real conversation with the Divine. But here’s the kicker: it’s not just about sitting still and being quiet. It’s about reprogramming your subconscious mind to see God in everything. Yeah, you read that right—everything. Those trees swaying in the wind? That’s God breathing. That feeling of sadness or happiness? That’s God guiding you, shaping you, and leading you to growth.

At first, it felt a little weird. I mean, talking to God like He’s my best friend? But slowly, this practice started to shift how I saw the world. I began to realize that every moment—no matter how big or small—is a chance to connect with something bigger than myself. And when you start to see life through that lens, it’s like the whole world lights up. You feel this deep sense of joy, not because everything is perfect, but because you’re aware of the love that’s woven into every thread of existence.

Now, I’m not gonna lie—it’s not always easy. There are days when it feels like the Divine is nowhere to be found. But that’s where the magic of self-talk comes in. Yep, you read that right—talking to yourself! It’s crazy how powerful it can be to remind your own heart of the truth. “God is here,” I’ll say to myself. “He’s in this moment, even when it doesn’t feel like it.” And you know what? Over time, those words start to sink in. They become the foundation of your thoughts, and before you know it, you’re walking through life with this unshakable sense of peace.

But here’s the thing: this journey requires vulnerability. You’ve got to be willing to show up, day after day, even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t feel like it. Because the truth is, spiritual growth isn’t about chasing those mountaintop moments. It’s about learning to see God in the valleys, too. It’s about embracing the messiness of life and trusting that every step is part of the plan.

So, if you’re feeling restless—like there’s more to life than what you’re experiencing right now—take a step. Start small. Sit quietly for a few minutes each day, and just talk to God like He’s right there with you. Share your hopes, your fears, your doubts. And then listen. Because when you start to tune in, you’ll realize that He’s been speaking all along—you just needed to slow down enough to hear.

This journey isn’t always easy, but I promise you—it’s worth it. Every moment of vulnerability, every second of stillness, every whisper of trust—those are the things that will transform your life. So, go ahead. Take the leap. Start practicing the presence, and watch how it changes everything.

RainbowReflectr

Is true Samadhi the ultimate union of twin flames, where two flames merge into one, and then either blaze like a forest fire or extinguish each other completely? In Savikalpa Samadhi, the twin flames dissolve into a single, all-consuming fire, symbolizing the pinnacle of union and divine absorption. On the other hand, Nirvikalpa Samadhi represents the complete annihilation of duality, where the flames vanish, leaving only pure consciousness or emptiness. I’ve experienced moments where the boundaries between self and other dissolve, and it feels like the entire universe is burning away illusions, or everything is reduced to stillness. This dance between becoming one and becoming nothing is what I believe true Samadhi is all about.

FloralSip

I'm a deeply feeling, spiritually inclined man, and that sensitivity is my feminine side. If I picture my masculinity at the top of a clock at twelve and my feminine aspect at six, I’d find myself hovering around eleven fifteen, leaning more toward the masculine but still carrying a strong undercurrent of feminine energy in my daily interactions.

FloralSip

I’ve reached a point where that feels like the most sensible explanation, yet every forum I visit seems flooded with stories of people whining about their twin flame suddenly switching their Facebook relationship status to “single.” It’s as if the lofty, metaphysical vision of a soul‑level connection constantly collides with the messy, everyday drama of social‑media updates and ego‑driven reactions. In the end, the ideal of a seamless spiritual partnership often gives way to the gritty reality of human habits and digital misunderstandings.

RainbowReflectr

And with that, I finally throw in the towel trying to explain what kundalini truly means to Baile; no matter how I phrase it, the concept just seems to elude his grasp.

FloralSip

I hear you. Trying to explain kundalini can feel like chasing a wind that refuses to stay still, especially when the other person isn’t even asking. I’m a middle‑path person, so I prefer keeping things calm rather than turning a light chat into a heated debate. Let’s give each other space, drop the expectations, and let conversation flow naturally without pressure or misunderstanding. We can share insights, but without forcing agreement.

RainbowReflectr

Years ago I sat in a room, listening to a teacher who spoke of tantra as a path of energy. At first I felt uneasy, because my own ideas were simpler and familiar. Over time I let the story unfold, noticing how each detail opened a window on discussion we were having. I realized that sharing that view did not aim to erase anyone’s belief, but to invite a wider view. Patience and openness became bridge that let us learn together.

FloralSip

I've been mulling over the same idea I mentioned earlier today, and it still feels worth revisiting. When it comes to Yin and Yang, I prefer to picture them as the two fundamental human dynamics: the inward‑focused, reflective flow of thought and contemplation, and the outward‑oriented, kinetic surge of action and expression. In my own practice, noticing when I’m caught in pure analysis versus when I’m fully engaged in doing has helped me balance those opposing currents and keep the energy moving smoothly.

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