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.

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